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“Chelseanna.”
Nimavel answered, and rather ironically too considering that he and Calairiel had probably been on the island when Erenthril had.
“If I had known you were frequenting there, I would visited much earlier.”
He quickly added, and there was a level of sincerity in his tone that implied much more than face value. Unbeknownst to Calairiel, their honeymoon to Chelseanna wasn’t all that it appeared to be. There had been intrigue, secrets, and money involved, aspects that Nimavel had prudently withheld from his beloved wife. Of course it was better that he had. She probably would have frowned had she known that their vacation had resulted in more deaths than Nimavel could count on four hands.
Some secrets were better left untold.
“I can see why you like it there, but I can’t imagine why you’d ever replace it for the forests…”
Lavender eyes flickered upwards to meet his childhood companion’s. Nimavel’s statement was not spoken as if to judge, but rather to gauge where Erenthril was coming from. Unlike Nimavel, Erenthril had always been more of a wanderer, someone whose pathway was as unpredictable as a leaf caught in the autumn wind.
“Be careful in your pursuits for archmagery, my friend. I have heard that it can be a dangerous road, and should you ever need any help…”
The Heru Mynendil went silent again, obviously allowing Erenthril to mentally finish the assassin’s sentence for him.
“Of course I know nothing of airships and would be less helpful to you than a handless cether, but be sure to write if supplies or money become tight. As for Imperia, well, it keeps me busy.”
Adjusting the little girl in his arms, Nimavel maneuvered one of his hands to steady the child’s head against his shoulder.
“You should visit some time. It’s…changed.”
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