Blood Will Tell

XVII

The morning sun peered through the window, struggling to get past the thick drapes. Only when it was far above the horizon did its light become bright enough to suffuse the curtained room, rousing Edin from slumber. Edin rubbed his eyes before he opened them, crawling out of bed to draw back the curtains that had ceased to keep his room dark. Not like they were ineffective—there were two layers of curtains, and he had only drawn the second, thicker layer. His eyelids shut as harsh sunlight flooded through now-unobscured windows, but it did not take too long for his pupils to adjust. He then left the room and trod down the stairwell to the main hall.

The clock chimed nine times by the time Edin was on the way to the dining hall, ready to start the day with a decadent meal. He panicked a little when he heard the ninth chime until he realized that he was no longer working, and thus was not late for any morning shift. His mind wandered to where Arden was. She was busy guarding a town, he supposed, and here he was, jobless and useless.

The doors opened on their own as he entered the dining hall. At once, magic began laying out a feast for him. From one end of the castle, he could hear the sizzling of eggs and meat, their savory scents making him salivate. While the kitchen was preparing the protein, the drinks were already being delivered to the table. A jug poured a mug of milk in front of him, which he quickly drank—his tongue was clamoring for moisture.

He set down the mug. As magic whisked it away from him, his eyes caught sight of a note on the table. He picked it up and read it.

Since you're no longer a guardian, we'll have to rework your daily schedule. Starting tomorrow, you shall begin breakfast no later than eight, and train the rest of the morning until lunchtime at half past noon. You will then resume training at one until dinner at six. You will be permitted a ten-minute break for every hour of training you do. For today, though, you may relax.

There is a second note which shall be delivered to you after breakfast. It will show you how your new practice will be conducted in my absence.

— Arden

He set the note free from his hold, letting it drift towards the floor before magic swept it out of his sight. He sat at the table and watched as it set itself. A placemat flew across the hall before landing and unrolling itself in front of him, and soon after, his first course floated to its designated spot: a bowl of cereal drowned in chilled milk. Without hesitation, he picked up his spoon and drained the bowl dry.

He was lucky Arden was not dining with him. She would have been frowning at him from across the table.

But she was not, and so he forwent many of the manners he had been taught, caring only to satisfy his parched tongue and starving stomach. He was not a total slob, for not a single crumb landed on the tablecloth, but he wiped his mouth far less than he usually would. The only benefit to not being a guardian, he supposed. It did not take long for his lips to be dripping with bacon grease, orange juice, and oil from fried eggs—Arden's worst nightmare.

Breakfast ended on a sweet note, with a stack of syrup-drizzled pancakes. Just as he was about to leave the dining table, a slip of paper zoomed through the air and halted in front of him. The bold letters on the top of its page told him that he was the intended recipient.

Edin took the note from the air and held it with both hands. It read:

Even though I won't be around most of the time, that doesn't mean I can't help you to control your curse. I've created a golem to help you out while I'm away. It's in the courtyard. Once you get there, you can read out the instructions on the back of this note.

— Arden

The mention of a golem raised his eyebrows. The golems that she had created so far were for him to destroy, not receive aid from. He let the idea amuse him as he made his way to the bathroom to get ready. Once he had showered and dressed, he proceeded to the courtyard with the note in hand.