Her lips part, and then she forces a smile—too bright, too easy. “Oh, this? I—I imagine some creature killed it and left it as a gift. I do tend to be perceived as friendly.”
I scoff. She’s fucking sunshine in this place.
We go back and forth a bit longer, but it is clear to me she’s lying. She’s never been a good liar. On the one hand, this spider could’ve attacked her. Why would she lie about that?
She needed protection, in that case.
But if she was hiding something… maybe it was because she had something to do with the death. Something inside of me, a nagging feeling, tells me that Daniel had something to do with this. Maybe there are signs of a struggle in her house. I need to get inside.
Then she says the words that draw me back to the conversation, “...if you treat someone poorly long enough, they won’t want you anywhere near them.”
I go utterly still.
Excuse me?
I tilt my head slightly, watching her closely. Keeping a tight monitor of my breathing to ensure I don’t get overwhelmed by a numbing attack again, I carefully say, “I have not always treated you poorly.”
She blinks. A flicker of something crosses her face. She looks at me for a moment longer, then breaks away, and bids me goodbye.
I tell her I’ll clean the mess and watch the tension build in her shoulders before she moves with a barely contained urge to flee. She turns sharply and strides past me.
It’s so different from how she’d reacted in the council meeting. That night, she’d leaned toward me when she felt danger. Why so run away now?
Did I make her nervous or safe? Or perhaps, both?
She shouldn’t fear me—she’d been in my old house. Had helped nurse me back to health from an infection when I’d almost died.
Once she’s out of sight, I turn to the mess. In truth,aradhlumblood isn’t that hard to clean up, and I make quick work of it.
When the clock tower chimes eight thirty in the morning, I decide I still have time to sleuth and turn back toward Arlet’s house.
Was there blood inside? Perhaps there was some threatening note from the ass-face. Or maybe a cursed object?
She wasn’t ready to accept that something could be seriously amiss, so I needed to find proof. She’d listen to Teo or Estela.
Checking to ensure no one else is out and about yet, I hurry around to the door at the side of the dwelling. It’s unlocked.
Really, it’s her own fault for not locking both doors.
Still, a sharp pang of guilt twists in my chest the second I cross the threshold. I shouldn't be here.
Her home is… beautiful, though messy with gifts strewn about.
It feels personal being inside, like stepping into someone’s mind without permission. She had only been in this home for one month before her appointment with the council, yet she had already built something infuriatingly artistic.
The walls are painted deep blue, streaked with red, orange, and emerald green accents. Light filters through woven curtains, casting soft patterns against stone.
I run my fingers over a gilded embellishment on the wall, wondering where she got such a large quantity of gold paint. Then, I think of the home I once shared with Adra.
It was different from this. The memory was perfectly intact, as all mine were. It had been smaller—for I’d merely been a soldier. It was a shame, as she was the only daughter in a wealthy family up north.
Most of what I made went to giving her jewels and dresses. She’d won my heart, and everything I owned belonged to her.
When she expressed interest in my sketches, and surprised me with a basket of paint pots, I painted everything that pleased her. And those pieces had always been displayed.
While none of those portraits exist anymore, there is artwork all over Enduvida, and yet Arlet's home is void of them.
I shake my head. She probably just didn’t have time to select any. Logically, I know she takes on the work of three people.