Looking over at the only house servant in the room, Alistar asked the young woman if she could fetch them some fresh leaves for their tea. The moment she left, he spoke to his friend in a quiet voice.
"Okay, don't tell anyone, but I found an old grimoire at the collegia's library a while back. It was written over a century ago, and it belonged to a very talented arcanite who mainly used ice magic. Based on the spellwork that he left behind, I think he was a high arcanite."
"You have a grimoire?" said Anice, her voice painfully loud. "Alie, that's so cool! Why didn't you say anything?"
"I was worried Uncle would get mad if he found it. After what happened, though, I don't think he'd mind."
Corrie didn't remove his gaze from the still surface of his drink. "Is that how you killed him, then? The man that tried to murder you."
Anice recoiled under Alistar's glare, pulling her silver shawl tighter around her shoulders as if in the hopes of warding off his exasperation.
