Working in a dead-end, post office job in the heart of a primarily-Human city, Arya Salcrest cannot let her secret out else she loses her rights and her safety. Norren Sterling, a member of the Council whom she met after a failed museum trip, is det...
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The tightness on Eliott's shoulders didn't let up even as he rolled and stretched them. Why was the whole day filled with meetings they could have otherwise drafted in advance? Most of the issues he attended to today were all minor and tedious tasks. Wait until Edge heard about it, though.
His footsteps echoed in empty peals across the corridor. He knitted his eyebrows. Wasn't it too...quiet? Where were the servants? They usually were in this area, attending to their duties. He passed an alcove and frowned. Where were the guards? Should there be one posted in this particular point where the corridor met and branched into three separate ways?
Eliott pursed his lips and tackled the northeastern corridor. It was going to take him to the room he shared with Edge. It was still a little awkward, living with her and existing in the same space as her. They were still learning each other's routines and how to best work around it. Sometimes, they would bicker over the silliest of things, like who gets to use the baths first or who has to call the servants whenever they want to eat inside. Edge would almost always win and Eliott didn't mind. He liked her happy anyway.
When he reached the room, he noticed the door to be slightly ajar. Edge disliked leaving any door she went through open. She always scolded him for not shutting the door whenever he went out of the room. So why...
His gut twinged. Something's wrong. Within seconds, he was running, tearing through the rest of the corridor and throwing the door open. There was nothing amiss inside. The embroidery Edge was obsessed with for the past month slathered over her worktable. A candle stuck inside the lamp still burned, casting a faint, eerie glow over the beige canvas.
Edge wasn't the type to leave small fires burning either. She would either douse it with a drop of water from her own magic or she would blow on it. Her reasoning was always because she didn't want to be the cause for a house fire. Safety would always be her priority. So...what was she telling him now?
Judging from the way she left her tools scattered on the table, she left in a hurry after being distracted. She wasn't given the time to pack so it must be urgent. It meant that she took nothing with her, not even a weapon to defend herself with. Eliott glanced at the door. Leaving it ajar meant she went out.
Was she with someone? Who would call the Princess Consort at this point in time? Her duties finished a few hours after lunch. It was a point past five now. She would always be waiting in this room for him at this hour.
Eliott stormed out of the room, eyes searching for a familiar face, a friendly face. His heart thundered in his chest as he tore through the corridors. It didn't matter that he was out of breath nor that his leg hurt from running up and down flights of stairs, winding corridors, and bumpy patios. He passed by servant after servant, asking them about where they last saw Edge. All they gave him were vague and often conflicting answers.
Sir Geoffer was coming out of another meeting when Eliott surged past him. Eliott pulled himself off his course and stopped in front of the manager. "Edge's missing," he reported. "I checked the palace twice. She's not here."
