“Milady, what is this?”
Mela held up the satchel, finding it where La’tiera had tucked it away before letting the woman help her out of her cloak the day before. She had forgotten all about it.
“It’s a gift—a bribe, really.” She strolled over, hoping to snatch the satchel back before the woman had a chance to open it.
Mela didn’t let go. “Yes, but what is it?”
“A satchel with paper to draw on and charcoals. He…They knew I enjoyed drawing, so they got this for me, hoping to soften my heart toward them.”
Mela reluctantly released it. “Might I see what you drew while you were away?”
La’tiera held the case protectively against her chest then slowly nodded. She moved to a nearby table, and hiding the contents with her body, she took out the blank papers and one drawing, leaving tucked away the ones she’d done using her gift.
Mela shuffled through the pages, making sure they were blank, then stared hard at the one of the troupe sitting around the table. “So, these are the ones who’ve cause us so much trouble.”
La’tiera looked at the picture over Mela’s shoulder, conflicting emotions rising within her as she gazed at the familiar smiling faces.
“Yes.”
Lalu’s face in the drawing grabbed her attention. Why didn’t she see the old woman in her vision last night? What did it mean? She found it harder to look at Dal’s. She couldn’t explain the continuing dread in her heart. But Dal had been released.
“You should have given this to the viscount yesterday.”
“I forgot I had it.”
“Then I will remedy that for you.”
La’tiera could think of no reason she could use to keep it, though it bothered her to lose it after all she’d been through.
“As you please.” She took the blank pages and placed them back in the satchel, covering the drawings she’d not shown Mela.
As the day wore slowly on, she couldn’t rid herself of her nagging questions. She felt restless, and Mela’s continued presence did nothing to ease her feelings. It was as if she were back with the troupe, always being watched—but it felt ten times worse here. This was supposed to be home.
Yet she possessed the power to answer some of her own questions, did she not? But did she dare try? She would have to decide what to do soon, or time would run out and she would end up knowing nothing.
* * * *
“La’tiera, are you all right?”
She looked up across the table at the viscount, realizing she’d been mindlessly stirring her soup instead of eating.
“Sorry. Yes, I’m fine. I guess I’m just feeling a little restless.”
He nodded knowingly. “It chafes, doesn’t it? Being trapped indoors, unable to do what you’re used to.”
La’tiera nodded, not looking at him, noticing his choice of words. It occurred to her that, in a way, he was as trapped here as she was. He’d once roamed the world, seeing marvelous places and things, but now, due to his age and the burden of responsibility her being here placed on him, it was no longer possible. Age was his prison, one that was in no way attractive. At least she would never be trapped by it. She would never feel this slow loss of freedom as age robbed her of her youth.
“It won’t be for too much longer.” He gave her a soft smile. “It won’t be in vain.”
“Yes, so eat.” Mela took away her soup and replaced it with the main course. “There are others being inconvenienced, not just you.”
La’tiera said nothing and did as she was told, but there was more going on here than just her or Mela’s inconvenience. She owed it to herself to have answers before she was gone. What was a scolding compared to her peace of mind? When she went she wanted to have no regrets, no loose ends. One way or another, she had to find some answers.