Free Web NovelChapter 245: Chapter 245
The basket remained held slightly forward, as though Avarine fully expected Circe to reach inside and take one. There was a softness about her, something gentle and unassuming that seemed to radiate outward without much effort.
Too carefully arranged, Circe thought.
The way Avarine was dressed only accentuated it. She wore pale colored fabrics, and dresses with modest cuts. Her jewelry was delicate. Nothing too sharp or gaudy. Youthful innocence clung to her like perfume.
She was soft-spoken, her voice soothing and melodic, the sort capable of lulling others into a false sense of security without them ever realizing they had let their guard down.
Circe did not reach for the basket.
She merely inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"Thank you for your generosity. I’m sure they taste wonderful," Circe said calmly, though there was little inflection in her voice. "You may hand them over to one of the maids inside."
It was clearly not the response Avarine had been anticipating.
Her smile dimmed a fraction. The change was barely perceptible but Circe noticed all the same.
"Alright then," Avarine replied, her tone still polite, though slightly strained now.
Before she could add anything else, Circe slipped past her to continue on her way without a word.
It wasn’t that Circe intentionally meant to be rude. She was simply cautious by nature, especially around strangers. And Avarine, despite being Lady Taryn’s daughter, was still very much a stranger.
Circe had always been guarded with those she did not know well. It was a habit she had carried since childhood, the same reason she was particular about who she allowed to help her dress or attend to her.
She had even been wary of Mina and Elara at first. That was before she discovered that the worst those two were capable of was making her laugh at the most inappropriate moments with their ill-timed, explicit and scandalous commentary.
Circe scanned the courtyard, but there was no sign of her brother. With a soft sigh, she turned toward the fields instead and found him exactly where she had expected.
Rowen stood with his bow in hand, another arrow already knocked as he took careful aim. He was far from perfect, but he had been practicing nearly every day, and it showed. His stance was steadier now, his movements more deliberate. The arrows struck the wooden target far more often than not, no longer veering wildly off course as they once had.
He was so focused that he barely noticed her approach.
Rowen drew back the bowstring, and held it for a long second before releasing the shot. freewebnσvel.cѳm
Circe clapped as the arrow embedded itself into the lower part of the wooden target, landing just shy of the largest painted circle.
Rowen’s head snapped in her direction. The moment he saw her, a wide grin spread across his face in a way that made her chest ache.
Circe smiled back, unable to help herself.
"You’re doing so well," she told him truthfully.
Their mother would have been so proud. The thought alone sent a sharp pang through her chest, made all the worse by the predicament she still found herself trapped in. It lingered, far heavier than ever.
Three days ago, she sat beside her brother and asked him carefully phrased questions like if he had noticed anything odd lately? If he was having strange, recurring dreams or if he had ever seen glowing threads of light visible along his arms and floating in front of him?
She had been trying to determine whether he was like her. They were siblings, after all. It wasn’t impossible that he might share the same affliction.
But Rowen had only shaken his head, his brow furrowing as he gave her a quizzical look. But right after that, she saw the flash of curiosity in his eyes, and she knew the questions would come next. She had changed the subject quickly before he could press her further.
Even now, she wasn’t sure she would have known how to explain it to him.
Not without frightening him.
She watched him fire a few more shots until his entire quiver was empty, staying close enough to offer corrections and quiet encouragement when needed. When he was done, he jogged off to retrieve the arrows that had flown astray, gathering them carefully before sliding them back into the quiver slung across his back.
"I’m going back inside, it’s getting cold," he said, breath puffing faintly in the air.
Circe motioned for him to walk ahead.
A raven flew high overhead just as she moved to follow after Rowen. The bird swooped down abruptly and landed on one of the branches of the tree from which the wooden target hung. It shook its feathers violently and cawed, the sound sharp and jarring against the quiet of the fields.
Circe glanced up.
The raven twisted its neck at an unnatural angle, far too sharply, its beady black eyes fixed on her, as if it was keenly observing her.
Chills raced down her spine.
There was something horribly wrong with that bird.
She could feel the wrongness of it deep in her bones, like a dull warning humming at the back of her skull. The air around it felt heavy, and tainted. She could sense the corruption clinging to the creature like tar, thick, and suffocating.
And worse still, she could feel the hollowness inside it. An absence where a soul should have been. It felt like an empty vessel.
It felt...dead.
Her brows furrowed as she kept her gaze on the bird.
But the moment the thought fully formed in her mind, the raven stiffened.
Its body locked unnaturally. Its wings became stiff, then it toppled from the branch on its own and fell heavily to the ground below where it remained, unmoving.
Dead.
Circe jumped back in shock, eyes wide. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Her heart pounded furiously as she stared at the lifeless bird, breath coming shallow and fast, her mind scrambling to make sense of what she had just seen.
She couldn’t rationalize how the bird that had flown here on its own only moments before, was the same one now lying dead on the ground. It happened so suddenly, like its consciousness had been snuffed out like a candle light.
