Chapter Twenty One
For
a moment, none of us moved. The silence was thick, heavy with
unspoken questions. Raaf's gaze darted between us, landing briefly
on the envelope in my hand. He didn't say anything at first, but I
could see the curiosity in his pale eyes.
"That
looks important," he said finally, his voice smooth as glass. He
inclined his head slightly towards the envelope. "I could take it
to her, if you like, I'm heading that way."
The
edge of the envelope dug into my palm as I tightened my grip.
"Thanks, but we've just wrapped up here," I said evenly. "We'll
take it ourselves."
MacTire
shifted behind me, his initial movements so subtle I barely caught
them as he deliberately put himself between Raaf & me. His
stance was loose, but I could feel the tension radiating from him.
If Raaf noticed he didn't give any indication.
"If
you're heading there now, we can walk together," Raaf said,
smiling faintly.
I
forced a polite smile in return. "We need to discuss a few things
first," I replied, my tone firm but not unfriendly.
Raaf
hesitated, his gaze flickering briefly between us before he gave a
short, graceful nod. "Of course. I'll leave you to it then."
He
stepped aside slowly, his gaze lingering on my hands for an
uncomfortable moment before he lifted his eyes to mine. "Don't
keep her waiting too long," he said lightly, before finally walking
off down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the distance.
MacTire
moved past me, pausing at the doorframe to press his palm flat
against the wood. The wards shimmered faintly, a ripple of what I
now recognised as magic brushing over my skin like static electricity
as the seal snapped back into place.
MacTire
waited a beat, his hand still resting on the doorframe, before
turning to me. "We need to keep an eye on him," he muttered.
"Agreed,"
I said, slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of my coat. I
glanced down the corridor to make sure Raaf was truly gone, then
nodded. "Let's go."
***
Raven's
door was closer than I'd realised--not really a surprise, we were
in the family wing after all. Still, the short distance between her
chambers and Lily's unsettled me for some reason. It wasn't just
the proximity; it was the way it made me rethink their relationship.
Whatever had passed between them, they'd chosen--or been forced--to
keep close.
Raaf
was already waiting, leaning casually against the doorframe with his
arms folded. As we approached, his gaze sharpened, though his
expression remained friendly.
"What
took you so long?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Get
lost on your way here?"
MacTire
gave him a brief, unreadable glance but didn't slow his pace. "We
had a few things to sort first."
"Well,
we're here now," I said, keeping my voice calm, even as doubts
about him churned in my mind. Passing, he'd said earlier, when
he'd shown up at Lily's room, if he was heading here that was
certainly feasible but... had he have overheard something, or was
something more sinister going on? I'd have to ask MacTire, but not
with Raaf standing right there.
Raaf's
gaze turned to MacTire, and his grin widened--softening just enough
to appear personable. "You're quiet today, Mac. Everything all
right?"
MacTire
gave a faint shrug, his eyes fixed on Raaf. "Everything's
fine," he said evenly but, for an instant, I could have sworn
his eyes changed colour--a predator's yellow gleam that vanished
so quickly I wasn't sure it had happened at all--giving the lie to
his apparent calmness.
Raaf's
answering smile looked forced, but it lasted only a moment until he
turned and knocked lightly on the door. The knock wasn't loud--just
loud enough to carry through the wood. Everything about Raaf seemed
to be that way: calculated, deliberate. He was a shadow that never
quite faded into the background, lingering just enough to remind you
he was there. Watching.
I
couldn't help my niggling doubt. Was just doing his job, or was
this his way of keeping track of us, making sure we weren't
stepping too far out of line? A beat later, the door opened to
reveal a maid, her expression polite but neutral.
"Yes,
sir?" she asked, glancing between Raaf and us.
Raaf
stepped aside, his tone smooth and unhurried. "They're here to
see Lady Raven. You can let her know they've arrived."
The
maid hesitated for a moment, then nodded and stepped inside,
disappearing from view. We waited in silence, the faint sound of
quiet murmurs from within the room barely reaching us.
A
moment later, the maid returned, holding the door open. "M'lady
will see you now."
Raaf's
grin returned as he turned to me, this time more genuine. "Go
right in. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see you," he said,
gesturing toward the door.
***
The
maid dipped a quick curtsy and retreated deeper into the chambers,
presumably to fetch Raven. Raaf remained in the doorway, his posture
casual but there was a coiled energy in the set of his shoulders and
the way his weight shifted subtly from foot to foot--a readiness
that spoke of someone prepared to spring into action at a moment's
notice.
MacTire
moved slowly, his hand sliding onto the door. For a moment, his
fingers pressed against the wood, and then he was pushing the door
closed with a finality that seemed to slice through Raaf's lingering
presence.
Raaf's
expression flattened, remaining impassive until he finally stepped
back, the door clicking shut in the space he'd just vacated.
I
turned to MacTire, my patience worn thin. "Alright," I
said, my voice low but sharp, "want to tell me what the hell is
actually going on between you two? I mean, there's obviously
something more than..." I waved a hand vaguely, deliberately
keeping my words ambiguous--not wanting to spell out our suspicions
where sensitive ears might catch every word through a couple of
inches of wood.
MacTire
didn't answer immediately, instead moving silently away from the door
to begin a methodical sweep of the room. His movements were slow and
deliberate, each pause punctuated by subtle inhalations as he scented
various items. The tension in his shoulders spoke volumes, though his
face remained carefully neutral.
A
soft chuckle from the doorway leading to the inner chambers drew my
attention. Raven stood there, leant back against the doorframe, arms
folded across her stomach as she watched MacTire's careful inspection
of her chambers. Her amusement evident in her eyes.
"Long
time no see" she said turning to me, her lips quirking into a
smile. "Miss me already?"
Before
I could respond, her eyes had darted to MacTire, who had paused in
his inspection of the carriage clock he'd just picked up, and on to
the main door. Her brow furrowed slightly, though she kept her voice
casual. "Careful, Mac. Family heirloom," she said lightly, but
her gaze lingered as if trying to understand his actions.
"Let
me guess," she said, turning back to me, "Raaf was playing
sentinel again and they got into a pissing contest? Though this,"
she waved in MacTire's general direction, "is strange even for
him."
"It's
not strange when--" MacTire's words cut off abruptly as his
gaze darted to the door. He met my eyes with a look that spoke
volumes before turning back to his methodical search, his nostrils
flaring slightly as he moved to examine the next section of the room.
Something
in Raven's expression shifted though the playful smile didn't
falter. She was covering well, but I could tell she wasn't as
oblivious to MacTire's behaviour as she appeared. "Well,"
she said, clapping her hands lightly, "why don't we take this
somewhere more comfortable? The lounge has nicer chairs, and Mac can
tell us about his interest in antiques... I never knew he was so
cultured!"
She
gestured towards an archway, pausing just long enough to ensure we
followed her into a smaller room dominated by deep leather armchairs.
As soon as we'd crossed the threshold, she pressed her palm flat
against the doorframe. That now familiar electric tingle washed over
my skin as magic rippled through the air, which suddenly felt
denser--like a summer storm had just rolled in, thick and
oppressive, as if the very air itself was holding its breath.
"There,"
she said, dropping the breezy tone as she turned to face us. "We're
in a nice, cozy soundproof bubble... So why don't you tell me
whatever it is you obviously didn't want Raaf to overhear?"
***
I
exchanged a glance with MacTire, who nodded slightly, as if to say he
was ready. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the envelope
in my pocket. "We found some things in Lily's room," I began,
my voice low but firm. "There's a letter..."
For
a moment, doubt crept in. Was I doing the right thing? I
hesitated, tendrils of phantom pain echoing through my head.
Tentatively, I pulled the letter from my coat, hoping it wouldn't
react violently this time, and offered it to Raven.
Raven's
brows furrowed, and she stepped closer, her curiosity piqued. "A
letter? From Lily?"
I
nodded, and her eyes widened slightly as she took it from me.
"There's
more," MacTire interjected sombrely. "We found some hidden
documents, a map marked with the locations where the Coven Killer's
victims were found, and evidence someone had been spying on her--a
camera..."
"Raaf
was there too," I continued, convinced her wide-eyed surprise was
genuine. "He seemed off, too interested in what we were doing,
what we'd found. We need to be careful, if he's involved in--"
"Stop," her voice was
quiet, but the conviction was unmistakable as she cut me off. Her
eyes flicked to the door as if she could sense Raaf lurking there.
"Raaf's been nothing but loyal, to me and to this family. Do you
expect me to believe he's capable of... of whatever it is you're
suggesting?"
"No,
there's no way..." Raven's voice cracked, genuine hurt flashing
across her face. "Raaf's been my guardian since I was six years
old. He stayed with me through... through everything. Everything
that happened with Peredur, when everyone else turned their backs--"
She cut herself off, swallowing hard. "He's spent years
protecting me, one constant I could always trust. When I had nowhere
else to go, he was..." Her hands clenched into fists at her
sides, then slowly relaxed as something shifted behind her eyes. The
warmth drained from her expression, replaced by a cold, analytical
distance that reminded me of the Seneschal.
"Evidence,"
she said finally, her tone clinical. "You said you found
evidence. Show me what you have, all of it." She snatched the
envelope from my hand, tracing her fingers over the seal. For just a
moment, she seemed to forget we were there, lost in some private
memory. Then, with practiced precision, she broke the seal. Unlike
my earlier attempt, the magic yielded to her touch, dissipating in a
shower of silver sparks that danced briefly in the air before fading
away.
The
parchment trembled slightly in her hands as she unfolded it. I
watched her eyes track to the first line, suspecting that whatever
was written there would change everything. Again.
Her
face remained tightly controlled as she read, but not without evident
effort. The tightening around her eyes, the way her fingers whitened
where they gripped the edges of the paper, a sharp intake of breath
that she couldn't quite suppress all gave lie to her apparent
composure. Then something shifted in her expression, a flash of
recognition followed by what might have been guilt. When she looked
up, her eyes were hard, all traces of her earlier emotional outburst
gone.
"Show
me," she said, her voice clipped. "Show me exactly where
you found this."
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