Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) by Jessie Eaker (best novels in english TXT) 📕

was likely plotting his next move to dismantle our defenses. This suspicion was supported by our reports from Mount Eternal. There was quite a bit of activity, but none of them left the mountain. They instead stayed close to their otherworldly portal. Indeed, they seemed to be waiting for something. We could only pray they waited long enough for us to get our defenses together.

Zofie rubbed her eyes. “Enter,” she called.

The door slowly opened, and a young woman stepped inside, clutching a giant ledger to her chest. I almost laughed every time I saw this. Fumiko was barely larger than the ledger itself.

Fumiko was Zofie’s personal secretary. She was of slender build and had black hair just long enough to frame her delicate face. But it was her ethnicity that intrigued people, evident from her eyes and the shape of her face—she came from lands far to the east.

As usual, she wore a simple beige dress with a modest neckline and cut from rough-spun cloth. An earth-colored shawl was draped across her shoulders, likely due to the morning chill. To my utter surprise, she wore plain brown stockings on her feet. She usually went barefoot.

Her manner of dress had earned quite a few whispers from those attending court. Zofie had offered her better clothes, but Fumiko had declined, simply saying she was not worthy and preferred it this way.

Despite her plain clothes and unkempt hair, I could tell she had the potential to be quite the beauty if she so desired. She carried herself with such grace and poise, one would easily think her a dancer. But I knew different.

While traveling to find the Mirror of Bygone Tears, I had been captured by bandits, and Fumiko had single-handedly defeated three armed men. Immediately after, she had sworn me to secrecy, asking I never reveal what she had done. True, she had been under the influence of the curse possessing her at that time. But still—what had been the curse and what had been Fumiko? Even if it was something in the middle, the mysterious lady from the east had at one time received some serious training in personal combat. It was also something she absolutely refused to speak about.

She had also betrayed us.

Or at least, the Dark Avenits possessing her had, using her to steal the mirror. I broke that curse using a charm from the nymph, Lady Autumn, and set her free. It was a debt the young woman took very seriously, and one she fully intended to repay with a life of service.

Fumiko cleared her throat and bowed. “Pardon the intrusion, your highness,” she said, her unusually accented voice calm and controlled. Unless you knew her, you might even think it cold.

She continued. “It is time for your picnic. The cook has everything you requested prepared. And watch out, Spraggel....”

But before she could complete the warning, the man himself came barreling through the door behind her. “I know what they’re after!” His eyes were bright with excitement, and he wore a smug smile. He moved to the room’s center, and in his exuberance, began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet. Hardly the display of respect one might expect from someone barging in on their ruler.

Spraggel was my elderly master. Or perhaps had been was more accurate, although I still considered him such. He was a scribe and a scholar of history, as well as Zofie’s senior advisor. He wore his usual gray robe, which was adorned with blotches of ink, and I couldn’t be sure, but maybe even some of last night’s meal. Although entirely bald, his white beard was starting to get long again. But not nearly as long as it had been before he shaved it off to pretend to be a priest of Dali.

I sighed. “Spraggel, what in the Creator’s name are you talking about?”

He smiled brightly. “The Dark Avenyts, of course!”

I shook my head. “But we already know that. They want hosts for their curses.”

He paused his bouncing and looked up at me in irritation. “Not that. No, I was talking about why they’ve been so quiet lately.”

We all stayed silent as Spraggel smiled and rocked back and forth on his heels. He was waiting for us to ask the question. Why have they been so quiet? All of us had been debating that topic all week—with no answers. None of us wanted to sit through yet another lecture.

His smile began to fade, realizing we were not going to fall for his trap. “Well,” he said, disappointed. “It is more a guess than anything right now. I need more information to turn it into a working hypothesis.” He stepped up to Fumiko and patted her on the shoulder. “Which is why I need to borrow your assistant for a bit. I think the answer lies in the research of Fumiko’s old master, Hennion Tormaigh. She knows his work better than anyone. And if I’m right, you’ll definitely be interested.”

Fumiko hefted her ledger. “I can’t. I need to work on the accounts. Zofie needs an accurate count of what the kingdom has and how it’s being used.”

Zofie put her hands on her hips. “I really do need those completed.”

I brightened. “I could do the accounts.”

Fumiko grimaced. “Your highness, with all due respect, please don’t let Sir Coren near the ledgers. It took me weeks to straighten them out from the last time.”

I sprang to my defense. “I didn’t do that bad. It was a busy week.”

All three of them regarded me in silence.

Zofie took pity and came to my defense. “Dearest,” she smiled sweetly. “You were valent to try, but numbers are just not what you’re best at.”

Fumiko took in a deep breath. “Instead, I could possibly work with Master Spraggel for two hours today. That should not throw me too far behind.”