Chapter 27 - 25- Information

When Neria woke up, the whole world felt unfamiliar for a moment. Half of it was because she still couldn’t see properly without her spectacles, and the other half was because she nearly rolled straight off the couch she had fallen asleep on.

She caught herself against the cushions, her heart giving a small startled jump as she slowly pushed herself upright. The blanket that had been wrapped around her during the night had slipped down to her waist, and the warmth of the sun settling on her skin.

For a few seconds, she simply sat there, blinking into the dim room as she tried to remember where she was.

Then the smell of ink and woodsmoke reached her.

The scent was faint, but familiar enough to pull the memories of the night before back into place. The storm. The thunder. Her crying at the door.

Neria’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the blanket.

The Grand Duke’s study.

Right...

He had brought her here last night.

She slowly looked around, though everything remained little more than blurred shapes without her spectacles. Her gaze moved toward the large windows, where pale morning light filtered through the curtains.

Morning already?

Neria frowned slightly.

She couldn’t remember falling asleep.

"Darian?"

Neria suddenly heard a voice call from somewhere in the study.

It was male, deep and carrying an unfamiliar accent that immediately made her tense. She didn’t recognize it, and that alone was enough to make the alarmed her.

Her head snapped toward the sound.

"Who is there?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then she heard footsteps approaching.

Neria instinctively shifted backward against the couch, her fingers tightening around the blanket as the footsteps drew closer. She could make out the shape of someone moving through her blurred vision, but not enough to see his face.

The figure eventually stopped in front of her.

"Hey there, Neria..."

Neria frowned.

Who was he to address her with such familiarity? She studied the blurred figure in front of her, trying to make sense of where she might have heard him before.

The man seemed to notice her confusion and chuckled softly.

"If I’d known you would be here, I would’ve brought you some candied fruits."

Neria’s brows drew together.

How did he know she liked candied fruits?

"Who are you?" she asked again, squinting her eyes as she tried to make out his face.

Before the man could answer, the doors creaked open behind him. Unhurried footsteps followed, crossing the room with the same steady pace she had come to recognize.

Neria’s head turned toward the sound. The blurred figure of the stranger shift, his attention moving toward the doors.

"Stay away from my Calypso, Ryver." Darian’s tired voice carried across the study.

Ryver?

Neria frowned again.

She wasn’t sure she had ever heard that name before.

The man straightened and let out a quiet chuckle as he stepped away from her. "Always so possessive."

His footsteps began moving across the room, and Neria’s head instinctively followed the sound despite the haze that clouded her vision.

"Though you said you would keep her in her room after the whole thing at the ball."

Neria went still.

He knew about that?

The way he said it, however, was what unsettled her. There was no shock in his voice, no disgust, not even the slightest hesitation. He spoke about her killing seven people as casually as if they were talking about an average Tuesday.

Neria’s fingers curled slightly around the blanket.

"I did," Darian answered. "She’s afraid of storms."

Ryver hummed, apparently accepting the explanation without question.

Neria remained quiet, listening to the two men as she tried to understand just who this stranger was and why he seemed so familiar with Darian.

Then the man suddenly clapped his hands together, the sharp sound making Neria flinch slightly.

"Yes! That just reminded me why I was here in the first place..."

His figure was now too far away for her to make out properly, leaving Neria to rely on his voice as he moved somewhere across the study.

She turned her head slightly, trying to follow him through the blur of her vision. There was something about the way he spoke, so casually familiar with Darian and so completely unbothered by everything he had just said, that made her curious.

Darian, however, didn’t sound nearly as amused.

"So what is it Ryver?"

"I found out who His Majesty is looking for, duh." Ryver’s voice carried across the room, sounding almost pleased with himself. "A man named Dhull."

"Dhull?" Darian repeated.

"Yes. A merchant from the Traveling Market." Ryver explained, his accent becoming more noticeable as he spoke. "He sells information, and his specialty is information about old relics."

Neria listened quietly, her attention sharpening.

Old relics?

That sounded important.

"But he can be rarely found," Ryver continued. "They say he spends most of his days with the other merchants of the market. Only merchants."

"I reckon I can’t simply march in there and look for him?"

"Nil." The word came out with a heavier accent than the rest. "Unless you wish to make more enemies in the Black Market and alert your uncle."

Neria heard Darian sigh.

She couldn’t see him clearly, but she could almost imagine the expression on his face. He was probably rubbing his temples again.

"Then?" he asked Ryver.

"The only way to find him is to be a merchant."

"So I disguise myself as someone selling something?"

"It’s not that easy, Darian." Ryver’s voice carried a hint of amusement. "If it were simply about selling something, every vegetable vendor in the kingdom could walk into that market. No..."

He paused.

Neria could hear the faint sound of his footsteps as he moved around the room.

"You need something rare. Something different..." His voice began to trail off.

Neria’s fingers slowly tightened around the blanket. For some reason, she suddenly felt as though someone was staring directly at her.

She turned her head.

She couldn’t make out Ryver’s face from where he stood, but she could feel his attention settle on her.

Then he spoke again.

"Something like a Calypso with legs."