Chapter 21: All Things Amiss

The rain was a deafening clamor against the glass windows.

Alyssane wiped the trickle of blood from her nose and continued to braid the strands of her hair. Her gaze was unmoving from her reflection.

The shade of her eyes was now a deep mystical grey, so out of place, she felt like another person, 'What is wrong with them?'

She was brought out of her thoughts when an abrupt faint scream echoed through the thunderous rain. The sound seemed to have come from the second floor.

'Gods, he is crying again…'

Several of the knights had returned to the tavern that morning, and they brought someone, someone who did not stop wailing for hours. The sound was faint but pained enough to even pierce the rampant sound of the stormy rain.

With an uneasy feeling, Alyssane peered out from her room's door.

The air of the corridor was thick with tension, all three knights seemed pale, their expressions set into hard lines, and their eyes either lowered, averted, or distant. Alyssane had never seen them break their nonchalant masks before.

'Are they torturing someone?'

'But the knights seem too disturbed…'

"What are you doing?" Luke's tall shadow fell over her, and before Alyssane could try to return to her room, their eyes met, and seeing that grim look made her pause.

Luke said nothing and gestured for her to follow him. She did, and he led her to a secluded study, far from the main areas of the tavern. The room was dark, with a distinct scent of old books and pages.

"You have to read everything," Luke said as he started to light up some candles, "Make concise notes and summaries of anything you seem important. His Grace will check later."

Alyssane frowned, "Why?"

"Do you prefer the mines?" he scoffed and muttered under his breath, "His Grace is showing her such mercy and she doesn't even want to help."

There were no words Alyssane could respond with.

The candles illuminated a large makeshift study. A long table was in the center and stacks of neatly organized books and texts.

Alyssane carefully asked, "Has Kazmun returned?"

Luke's expression darkened and he refused to respond.

'Well, I do not mind reading…' She glanced around the room and her lips pursed together, 'But why now?'

Her fate was on the line, everything seemed to be in the dark, and everything felt so uncertain. Moreover, the recent happenings around the tavern and the knight's odd behaviors had left her with even more questions.

"Don't try to leave your room," Luke finally spoke, his voice detached and cold, "Not for a few days, and not unless you're with a knight."

Alyssane sighed, "You speak as if I need to be protected from someone here."

"So?" he narrowed his eyes.

"But isn't everyone here a knight?"

Luke paused for a moment, but then he did not bother to explain anymore and began to walk away, "Just behave. I am right outside."

For the next few days, Alyssane spent all her hours in the study because there was nothing else to do. She found the texts depressing to read, they were primarily records regarding some of the most brutal times in history.

Deaths, famine, plagues.

Kazmun was still not around, and Luke would say nothing.

Meanwhile, Alyssane also tried to dwell deeper into her dreams, but they refused to appear. Her mind was empty while asleep, and lost when she woke up.

And the pained cries refused to stop, causing her mind to reel back to Pearl Manor and her healing wounds throbbed with a newfound ache. She dare not ask Luke about it.

He wouldn't answer, and she was not sure she wanted to know.

Drowsy from another night of lost sleep, Alyssane passed out soon after coming to the study. he felt as if she had a dream, but it was a fleeting vision, slipping out of her consciousness as easily as sand through her fingers.

Her heavy eyes opened to hushed trembling whispers.

"Please… forgive me…"

With a bated breath, Alyssane slowly followed the sound.

The whispers were relentless, spoken like a desperate prayer. She swallowed hard and slowly opened the door.

And there, right outside her door was Luke, covered in bruises and blood―barely awake, his lips trembled as he tried to speak. There was no sound, she could not understand.

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