Bastion of Sun

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A Remarkable Theory

Ayva trailed Gray and Darius through the halls of the Apex. At an intersection they stopped, debating which hallway to take. Ayva's instinct was to duck behind a corner. Instead, she stood frozen for a long moment, wanting to call out, but words wouldn't come—her throat was dry. Moments passed like hours. Finally Gray nodded, with his nose in the air, and Darius followed. And just like that, the two turned a corner, and were gone. The last image she had was of Gray's crossed-swords emblazoned on his threadbare cloak, whipping behind him. "I can't say goodbye and I can't follow them," she whispered to herself, now alone. It's their journey now.

Feeling drained, Ayva returned to her room to find Zane standing side-by-side with High Lady Evangeline. Ayva's hand lingered on the door's handle, confused. They were both staring at her oddly. The look on Zane's face was bluff as always—perhaps a little more pinched of brow indicating annoyance. But that was it. The High Lady however, was another matter entirely.

Ayva nearly blushed eyeing the girl—er, young woman's attire. She's your age, Ayva, she reminded herself.

Evangeline wore an almost scandalous nightgown—layered so as to hide her curves, but still each sheet was gossamer thin and faint shades of pink. The combination allowed the High Lady's flawless porcelain skin to be clearly seen beneath—save for the most indecent areas. Her arms were crossed, her mouth drawn to a tight line and one brow arched in puzzled study.

"High Lady?"

"She doesn't appear to be affected by too dire of a malady," Evangeline said, her words clipped and dubious but not entirely certain.

"Sorry?" Ayva asked. "Am I missing something?"

And Zane spoke in her mind. I told an elaborate lie that you weren't well to aid Darius and Gray. It'd probably be best to go along with it or it'll likely ruin our good will with Lord Nolan.

Ah, she thought, all the pieces fitting together like a puzzle she'd rather not have fit together in the first place. She gave him a tight-lipped smile that rivaled the High Lady's. Fantastic. Thanks for telling me.

He shrugged. What? I'm telling you now.

She grumbled inwardly and turned back to Evangeline, putting a hand to her head, adding a warble to her voice she hoped didn't sound too affected. She was a terrible liar—an inherited trait from her father that she normally took pride in. Now it only made her sweat nervously. "No, you're so right," she said, "I am feeling much better. I think I just needed a little fresh air and a walk. I was just feeling anxious, what with everything that happened yesterday. Of course, I told Zane all this and insisted he not wake you. But telling Zane what not to do is like yelling at a brick: lots of frustration and very little reward. I promise I wouldn't have summoned you if it was my choice."

"No," said Evangeline, a strange look coming over her face, as if suddenly convinced. "Zane was right to call me. I'm happy to help. I can see now that you are suffering from something. You're just good at hiding it. Concealing your emotions won't help me, or you."

Ayva gawked. "Hiding... my... emotions?"

The High Lady didn't reply though as she whisked her to a nearby couch and sat her down—swiftly, firmly, but kindly. "Enough talk. I can see you're going to be a difficult patient to work with. Zane told me of your symptoms and I can see a few of them already."

"Symptoms?" she couldn't help but ask.

"See?" Zane said. "I told you she suffered. We all do when she's like this," he added.