Chapter 20
I spent the hours until dawn searching every corner of my room for the scrying stone. The tight panic in my chest grew as I pulled apart the bedcovers, crawled under the bed and the wardrobe, and fruitlessly turned all my clothing inside out.
How could it have disappeared?
I couldn’t even contact Thorne to ask if scrying stones sometimes dissolved on their own. Finally, heartbroken and exhausted, I crawled into my disheveled bed for a few hours of sleep. I swore I’d continue looking when I awoke. The stone must be in my room somewhere. It must.
A servant knocking on my door woke me after what felt like a scant hour of rest.
“Sera Celcio,” she called, “your father is awaiting your presence at breakfast.”
With a groan, I pulled a pillow over my face, but the woman continued
