She breezed past the guards at the door with only the briefest interaction, so caught up in her thoughts that she walked straight into a man she recognised—Commander Leverre.
“Commander Leverre, isn’t it?” Solène said. “You were with Gill, weren’t you? I didn’t realise you were already back in the city.” She could see his confusion. “I’m sorry. We haven’t met. I am—was—a friend of Gill’s. My name is Solène. Initiate Solène.”
“Well met, Initiate,” he said, only now taking in her uniform. “I’m just returned.” His eyes were red and he looked like he hadn’t slept in several days.
“I was very upset to hear about Guillot. I hope you weren’t too badly injured in the fight.”
Leverre frowned. “He came out of it better than the rest of us. I have a constant headache, and there are the brothers and sisters we lost in the fight to remember, but I thank you for your concern.”
Solène’s mind spun and she opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it and smiled. Leverre gave her a curt nod.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said. “I’m keen for a hot meal and a warm bed.”
She watched him until he disappeared into the sunlight beyond the great double doors. She chewed on her lip. Had the Prince Bishop been mistaken about who had died? It didn’t seem like the type of mistake a man as fastidious as he would make. On instinct, she knew she had been lied to.
Why would the Prince Bishop lie to her about Guillot? She considered asking him about it, but it occurred to her that there might be more to be gained by playing along for the time being. She knew the Prince Bishop had an agenda, but she didn’t know its goal, or where she would fit in when that point was reached.
The walk from the palace doors to the Prince Bishop’s offices seemed far shorter than it had the last time—too short, in fact. She found herself outside the door to the antechamber—used as an office by the Prince Bishop’s secretary—before she had a clear idea of the strategy she wanted to adopt. There were too many people passing by—from servants to courtiers—for her to loiter for long. She knocked, and was commanded to enter.
The Prince Bishop’s personal secretary whisked Solène straight through to his master’s office, where the Prince Bishop stood staring out the window. He remained in his silent vigil, not acknowledging her arrival until the secretary had left and closed the door behind him.
“Have you discovered anything of use?” he asked, without turning.
Solène shifted the weight between her feet. “I have, but I fear it might not be enough.”
“I still want to hear it.”
Solène took a deep breath and made her decision. The less he thought she knew, the better. “I’ve found some records documenting the early days of the Silver Circle. They make mention of a cup used to anoint the new Chevaliers under the supervision of the College of Mages. It supposedly ended up in Mirabaya. Perhaps if we could find it and learn how to use it…”
She paused to gauge his reaction, but his gaze remained fixed on whatever he was looking at below—perhaps one of the palace gardens. The silence grew until Solène wondered if she should say something else, for no reason other than to fill the space.
“I had heard of special initiation rites,” the Prince Bishop said at last. “I had hoped that something of them might have carried over to the present day—my reason for sending Guillot on the mission in the first place. Now I see the modern rite omitted the key component.”
Seeing her chance, Solène threw caution to the wind. “I was wondering. Guillot showed me a great deal of kindness, and, well, I know he doesn’t have anyone to mourn or remember him, so I thought perhaps I could repay his kindness in that way. Do you know … how it happened? I mean, was it quick? Did he suffer?”
The Prince Bishop turned to face her with an abruptness that startled her. “I believe it was instantaneous and bravely met,” he said. “Dwelling on such things never does anyone any good.” He walked to his chair, sat down, and steepled his fingers.
She studied him closely. Now that he had confirmed the lie, Solène knew there was more to him involving Guillot in his plans than she had thought. What would he do if he were caught not only in the initial lie, but in compounding it? Surely Leverre had given the Prince Bishop a complete report on what had happened? Why, then, did the Prince Bishop continue to perpetuate a lie when a simple claim of incomplete information would have swept the matter to one side? Unless he intended that the lie never be found out.
She felt the blood drain from her face as what that meant dawned on her.
“Solène? Are you all right?”
She forced a smile. “Yes, thank you. I’ve not had much sleep the last couple of days.”
The Prince Bishop nodded. “It certainly looks that way. Go back to the Priory and get some rest. You can continue your investigations tomorrow. A hot meal and an early night will put you to rights.”
She smiled again and nodded. “I expect so.” Gazing around the room, she saw a pile of books in the corner. They looked old, like those she had spent the last few days surrounded by. She decided to ask a risky question. “Have you heard any mention of this cup before? It was referred to as the Amatus Cup. Any hints of how to track it down would be a big help.”
The Prince Bishop frowned for a moment as though in deep concentration. “No, I’m afraid not. If I come across anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Suspicious, Solène reached for the Fount and focussed her thoughts on the Cup and the Silver Circle. She let out a surprised cough when she saw the books twitch.
The Prince Bishop gave her an inquiring look.
“I’m sorry, my Lord,” she said. “I’m fit to drop. If I might be excused?”
“Of course,” he said.
With a false smile, she left the room as calmly as possible. She took a deep breath when the door closed behind her, but was startled when she realised the Prince Bishop’s secretary was staring at her. She gave him a curt nod, then left, walking quickly.
Questions, questions, questions, she thought as she headed for her waiting carriage. Why are there always so many questions and so few answers? That the Prince Bishop was keeping something from her came as no great surprise. She gave her driver a wave, told him to take her to the Priory, and hopped into the carriage. It struck her as odd how quickly she was becoming accustomed to such things. As he pulled away one thought plagued her. If Guillot wasn’t already dead, then he soon would be. But why, and could she stop it from happening?
Leverre was the only man who could shed light on it all. She was certain she would find him back at the Priory. Once she knew where Guillot was, she could somehow get a warning to him that the Prince Bishop did not intend to let him live. Was she being paranoid? She chewed her lip. Part of her said it had to be a mistake, but her gut told her there was something wrong. She hoped Leverre had some answers. She tapped her foot against the side of the carriage and willed it to go faster.
As soon as Solène arrived at the Priory, she asked for directions to Commander Leverre’s quarters. Even though it was the height of the day, and the Priory was as buzzing with activity as it got, there was still a serenity about the place that was completely absent in the city. It had been her home for only a handful of days, yet she had already developed an affection for it. In the pit of her stomach, however, she could not help but feel her time there was already nearing its end.
Officer accommodation was not far removed from that provided for sisters, brothers, corporals, or sergeants, although their barrack houses were in a quieter part of the Priory’s grounds. More than enough time had passed since she’d encountered him at the palace for him to have eaten and gone to bed, and he hadn’t struck her as the type of man who would take kindly to having his sleep interrupted. There was no time to delay, however, so she marched up to his door and pounded on it.