Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“Starborn?” Grady murmured, and I looked over at him. He rocked forward. “Wait. I’ve heard that before. Heard you say that.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, fiddling with the collar of the robe.
“The Prioress of Mercy— the one you were given to,” he said. “You told me when we were younger that she used to say that you were born of the stars.”
“Holy shit.” My hand fell to my lap. “You’re right.”
He gave me a cheeky grin. “I know. Probably just a weird coincidence.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, except I didn’t believe in coincidences. Neither did he.
Starborn.
I knew that meant something.
My intuition, usually silent on all things dealing with me, was telling me that it did.
That it was important.
Claude was still with Hymel, so speaking with him wasn’t an option at the moment, and since this could be something only a caelestia knew, the only other person I could think of who might know what starborn meant was Maven.
That was if Naomi was right about her, and she was Claude’s grandmother, on his father’s side.
The thing was, I’d have to get her to talk or . . . I would have to get the information from her another way, without her permission.
That didn’t sit well with me, but it also didn’t stop me. I was a hypocrite and fully aware of it.
Bathed and dressed in the lightweight tunic and leggings often favored by the staff, my hair braided back from my face, I could still catch that woodsy, soft scent of Thorne on me. At this point, I was beginning to think it was my imagination, because how was that even possible?
I stepped into the alcove Maven’s chamber door was set in, and knocked. There was no answer, but after a few moments the rounded, wooden door cracked open.
Hesitating, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open enough for me to get past, stepping into the chamber, which was lit by dozens of candles stacked on shelves along the stone walls and piled on nearly every flat surface. There had to be electricity in this chamber to heat the water, but Maven seemed to prefer the ambience of the candlelight.
Or the creepiness.
Closing the door behind me, I almost missed her. Shrouded in black, she was seated on one of the many stools, near the wardrobe, her head bowed as she stitched a piece of garment in her lap. The room smelled of laundry soap and faintly of mothballs.
Throat strangely dry, I inched forward. “Maven?” I winced at the hoarse sound of my voice. “I brought back the headpiece. I forgot to do it last night.”
She jerked her head toward one of the shelves holding other elaborate pieces.
Nibbling on my lip, I walked the headpiece to the shelf and found an empty hook to hang it from. Anxiety settled in the center of my chest as I glanced over at her. Limp, dull gray strands of hair fell from the cowl, shielding her face.
“I . . . wanted to ask you something.” I draped the chain over the hook and carefully placed the chains of rubies on the shelf below it.
There was no response as her gnarled fingers drew the needle and thread through the thin red garment.
“Are you Claude’s grandmother?” I asked.
Still, she was silent.
I stared at her hunched shoulders. Like the other night, a shivery pressure settled in between my shoulder blades. The tingling spread throughout my arms and seeped into my muscles, guiding me toward her. Fingers twitching, I made no sound as I approached the woman, lifting my hand—
Faster than I would’ve thought her capable, Maven wheeled around on her stool.
I gasped, jerking back a step.
“You think to force an answer outta me, girl?” she demanded in a voice as thin as parchment and as brittle as her bones. “After all this time?”
“I . . .” I didn’t know what to say as I drew my hand back.
She laughed, the sound more of a dry wheeze that shook her entire body. “You never spoke to me before. Never asked me about my kin before. Why now?”
“That’s not true. I’ve spoken to you before, when I first started being brought to you,” I told her, but that was neither here nor there. “Is Claude your grandson?”
The lines in her face were deep gouges. Watery, shadowed eyes met mine, but they were alert and full of curiosity. “What’s it matter to you?”
“Can you just answer the question?”
Stringy silver hair slipped back as she lifted her chin. “Or?”
“Or . . .” My fingers tingled. “I will just get the answer the hard way.” My stomach twisted; the hypocrisy still didn’t sit well with me, especially after my lecture to Thorne about consent. Granted, gaining answers from Maven was nothing like demanding my time and my body, but it felt a lot like splitting hairs. It felt a lot like what I did every time I used my abilities for Claude. Maybe that was why I had such a problem with Thorne’s demands. And maybe that was why I was able to accept them. Heart thudding, I took a step toward her. “You won’t be able to stop me.”