Hope sparked in my chest. “Thorne?”
“I can’t tell specifically who.” He moved to the mantle, running his fingers along the edge. “But someone used magic. Healing magic, I think.”
My pulse quickened. Healing magic for Addie?
I hurried through the room. The cushions on the old sofa showed indentations, as if someone had sat there recently. A teacup rested on the side table, a brown ring staining the bottom.
Pherin launched from my shoulder, exploring the rafters with sharp chirps that echoed in the quiet space.
“Here.” Trew crouched near the fireplace. “The ash is recent. Someone burned something in the last few days.”
I knelt beside him, our shoulders brushing in the tight space. His warmth bled through my cloak, steadying me.
With a small shovel and poker, we sifted through the ashes together. Near the bottom, I found a scrap of fabric that hadn’t burned completely.
Dark blue silk. Fine quality. Court fabric.
I held it up to the light filtering through the shutters, and my throat closed. “This could be hers.”
Trew’s hand covered mine, his fingers curling around my trembling ones. “Maybe. We’ll find her.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
We continued through the house. The bedroom showed more signs of recent occupation, with rumpled bedding, a basin with water still in it, and a hairbrush with long dark strands caught in the bristles.
I lifted the brush, studying the hair.
Addie’s?
Trew appeared in the doorway, his unfamiliar features softening. “What did you find?”
I showed him the brush, and he crossed the room in two strides. His hand settled on my back, giving me strength when I wanted to fly apart. “Breathe, Minx.”
I drew in a shaky breath, then another. “If Addie was here with Commander Thorne, they left in a hurry.”
His hand remained on my back, holding me steady and keeping me from falling apart. “We should keep searching. There might be something else.”
We moved through the rest of the house. Pherin flitted ahead of us, her tiny form disappearing into shadows before emerging.
In the small washroom, I found a dried cloth draped over the edge of the basin.
Trew checked the bedroom again while I searched the small closet. A cloak hung inside, too large for Addie, clearly Thorne’s.
We continued to the back of the house, his mother’s sitting room. The space was cramped, barely large enough for the furniture it contained.
I stopped in the doorway, frowning.
The furniture had been moved, and the new arrangement felt wrong for the space. A chair sat three paces from the wall instead of tucked into the corner where it had been before. A small table angled awkwardly, its curved side facing a chair. An overturned stool lay near the window.
“Someone was in a hurry,” Trew said, easing past me to enter.
The arrangement tickled the edge of my memory. I couldn’t quite grab hold of it.
Pherin landed on my shoulder, her tiny claws digging into my cloak.
I stepped into the room, walking around the furniture slowly, studying it from all angles.
Trew watched me from near the wall. “What are you seeing?”