"King Alvone had descendants who escaped from Jaigara. Where did they settle?" Arkilla murmured, her eyes narrowing at the worn, ink-faded branches of the family tree sprawled across the page like a ghost's web.
"Yes, Arkilla. I thought the same, look at these pages, this slim spine pricks me, he had many achievements, and this book is too small." Came the quiet and yet furious reply. "The way Victor approached that girl... it's too precise. Not just her purity. This is too deliberate. Either she carries secrets she doesn't yet understand, or she's hiding them well. I will know."
Arkilla flipped another brittle page, the parchment whispering beneath her fingertips. Her frown deepened. "You don't trust her, do you?"
"Of course, I don't," came the sharp answer. "But I won't let her die just because a vampire decided to play puppet master."
