No Solace (The Flames of Retribution - Book 1)

Chapter Twelve - The Dance

My hands fisted in the fabric of my dress, and I looked away from Xīwàng.

"What's wrong? If you don't want to answer, I'm sorry."

I waved away his apology.  "I just really have no idea how to begin," I said. 

"Why don't we begin with your mother and father, and work from there."

I told him about my mother and father, who had no aptitudes, and their fears for me.  I regaled him of my father's architecture business, and his subsequent downfall because of Chevral. My rise up the ranks in the Library Force. Talking about the Library Force sent me down a rabbit trail of everything that I loved about being a Librarian. We were not just women and men that catalogued books and made sure that late borrowers paid their fees, no, we were adventurers that scoured the globe looking for lost knowledge. We were warriors that wrested that knowledge from our enemies, forgetting that I was speaking to our biggest enemy. I spoke in glowing terms of the ship I was to be Head Librarian over, the Denver. Then the light died from my eyes, and I shook my head as I told him of all the events that occurred after that, finally recounting my time with the pirates.

"So, my best day and my worst day was on the first day of the Saint Atrize festival. Saint Atrize, please help my soul." I ended my tale with a quick prayer.

Xīwàng had remained silent during the whole story, even when I'd run off down my rabbit trails. Servants had brought out lunch while I was halfway through it.  I wasn't sure if he was even listening, as he often closed his eyes. When I was done, he opened his eyes.

"You had no idea of why the charges that had been laid on you, is that right?" He took a sip of his peach juice and played with the rim of the glass.

I took note of how thin and smooth his hands were. They were prettier than mine, and I felt a sting of envy. My answer held a sharpness from my jealousy. "None at all."

Xīwàng stopped making the crystal ring and set his hands on his lap. "My father always said wickedness makes its perch in sick trees, and a healthy tree resists the blight of evil."

I nodded, "I've heard a similar proverb. What is your point?"

He raised his brows at my impatience, and I tilted my chin down in apology. Then he continued, "But it's also true that this world entices us with wants, vices, and temporary pleasures, which can overcome good intentions, and ultimately to lead us into guilt and wickedness. So, there might be some among those you know that have grown sick from those poisoned fruits."

I squinted at him, wanting to understand, but not used to the flowery way he spoke. Sanfeltonians were plain speakers. 

He looked disappointed that I didn't understand, and I struggled not to show my annoyance. With a slower voice, he explained more plainly, "With this in mind, if you wish to discover the culprit, find the ones that would have an advantage should they do the wrong. So, in your case, who would stand to gain if you were done away with?"

"I was nobody. I was not a noble, or a mage. I was a Librarian with a Seeker ability. That's all. I can't think of anyone." Chevral, maybe? He'd known what the prince had done, and had even arranged an escape of sorts, even if it was stupid...

"Everyone has a place in this world. No one is insignificant, and indeed, even the lowest gravedigger could have a person who burns with jealousy because the man has something that one wants. From your story, you were about to be named Head Librarian of the imperial library and made captain of The Denver?"

My heart sunk. "Yes, that's correct."

"And you'd just become engaged to one of the most powerful men in your country..."