Chapter 716: Family Matters (Part One)
After bidding a polite farewell to Master Tiernan, Ashlynn and Isabell withdrew from the garden and the rain, returning to Ashlynn’s chambers in the tower she’d claimed for her coven. Normally, Ashlynn would have filled the walk with idle chit chat, pointing out the features of the castle or sharing stories of her time here along the way, but not today.
Today, the clouds outside mirrored the ones that had gathered in her heart and everything she might have talked about seemed trivial next to the conversation she was about to have. Even the castle’s servants seemed to sense the heavy mood, stepping out of her way and bowing silently at her passage rather than offering the warm greetings or congratulations on her betrothal to Lady Nyrielle that they would have just the day before.
The garden where she’d met with the guild masters wasn’t far from her tower, only a few minutes walk, the silence of the walk made it feel twice as far as they navigated the ancient stone hallways and the winding spiral staircase at the center of the tower.
When they finally reached Ashlynn’s sitting room, with the warm fire crackling in the hearth and the comfortable sofas sitting before the fire, Isabell finally broke the silence as she took in the luxury and splendor of Ashlynn’s living arrangements.
"I think, if your mother saw this, she would be happy to know that you’ve been living well this past half year," Isabell said idly as she approached the hearth that was large enough to heat large kettles of water for bathing in addition to pushing back the late autumn chill that hung in the air.
When Isabell had seen the furnishings in her own chambers, she’d already been impressed by their quality and the luxury that she was afforded as a guest. Whether it was the soft, thick carpets that covered the cold stone floors or the intricately carved wooden furniture, none of it would have been considered inferior to the pieces she’d seen in Lady Jocelynn’s quarters in Lothian Manor.
Ashlynn’s quarters, however, went a step further, reminding Isabell of the apartments occupied by the Emerald Prince in the early days of the civil war. Much like the young prince, Ashlynn didn’t surround herself with gold and displays of wealth, but instead created a space that was filled with a combination of comfort and refined, artistic touches including multiple paintings of vivid landscapes that had clearly been painted by the hand of a Master artist.
"Though I suppose things like this would probably worry the countess," Isabell added as she paused to examine the shattered remnants of a falchion that had been mounted on a slab of polished wood in order to display the broken weapon above the mantle.
Each piece had been meticulously positioned a fingersbreadth away from its neighbors, making the complete destruction of the weapon clear while preserving the general shape of the blade enough that even an untrained eye could tell what it once was. Much like everything else in the room, the fit and finish of the fittings on the unbroken hilt of the sword made it clear that this had once been a weapon of exceptional craftsmanship that even a person without training in swordsmanship could appreciate.
"You weren’t joking when you said you shattered your blade fighting in the High Pass," Isabell said, reaching up to touch one of the blade shards before yanking her hand back in surprise when she felt the metal react to her touch with a shock and a prickling sensation that shot from her finger tip all the way to the palm of her hand.