Chương 15

Seraphine was watching the refectory door when Elara reached it. That complicated lunch. Celine and Jory entered on either side of her, then slowed as the crowd narrowed around the threshold. Beyond them stretched a long hall with high windows along one wall and the kitchens at the far end. The Academy fed everyone in one hall. It had still found ways to arrange them. Old families occupied the tables nearest the windows.

Lesser nobles filled the spaces around them through friendship, kinship, and the sort of invitation that could be withdrawn. The scholars and the guild badges ate near the kitchens, where the food arrived hotter and the company carried no weight at all. The stone floor had worn shallow beneath generations of benches. Bread and stew scented the warm air, threaded through with the clatter of spoons and several hundred conversations. Elara had intended to follow Celine towards an open table midway down the hall.

Jory was already looking towards the kitchen tables, perhaps measuring how much notice his guild badge would draw if he sat elsewhere. Then Seraphine raised one hand. She sat beneath the second window with several people Elara knew by house and very little else. House Vey had exchanged letters, gifts, marriage enquiries, and hunting invitations with their families. Walking past would require an explanation later. Of course it would.

"I'm afraid my sister has called me over," Elara said.

"Please excuse me." Celine followed her glance.

"Of course." Jory shifted the books under his arm.

"We'll save you a place, my lady." It was kindly meant. That made leaving worse. Elara thanked him and crossed the hall. Seraphine made room beside her with a small movement of one hand. The place had evidently been empty for some time.

"Here she is," Seraphine said. The table observed the familiar forms. Elara greeted each person according to rank, accepted enquiries after her health, and sat when courtesy allowed it. A server arrived with stew, dark bread, and watered wine before she had settled her skirts. Seraphine must have ordered for her. For the first part of the meal, Elara listened to people she had never met discuss other people she had never met. A young lord had embarrassed himself during a riding lesson.

Someone's cousin had received an invitation from a ducal household. A visiting lecturer had been seen leaving the Archive after dusk with his coat improperly fastened. Seraphine knew every name. She supplied missing relations, corrected one title, and turned each piece of gossip towards whoever might profit from hearing it. When she introduced Elara, she used the same phrase each time.

"My younger sister, recently arrived under difficult circumstances." The first use sounded considerate. The second drew a sympathetic look from an elderly baron's daughter. By the third, Elara understood. Seraphine had called her across the hall so everyone could see who seated her, who spoke for her, and who explained her presence. Even the empty place had done its work. Elara's admission to the Academy became another matter her elder sister had taken in hand. She ate a spoonful of stew.

It had cooled while she listened.

"Elara, you remember Lady Tressel's nephew."

"I'm afraid we have never been introduced."

"Then the fault is mine." Seraphine turned towards a mild-faced young man seated across from them.

"Garrick Agnew." For a moment, Elara thought she had misheard. The old quarrels between Agnew and Vey usually kept their younger relations at separate tables. Yet Garrick wore neither challenge nor amusement. His dark coat was excellent without being showy, and his hair had been cut close enough to suggest that he disliked spending time on it. He rose just far enough to honour the introduction.

"Lady Elara."

"Master Agnew."

"My grandmother was distressed to hear that lawlessness had reached the roads around Asterhall." His voice was quiet and polished.

"Please accept my family's sympathy." Cal's warning returned with inconvenient force. He had offered no proof. Elara possessed nothing she could place before Garrick except a wounded mercenary's suspicion and House Agnew's long dislike of her own family. Yet every courteous word from him had a second edge now.

"My thanks," she said.

"The Academy's investigators have been admirably thorough." Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. A spoon stopped against a bowl farther down the table. Garrick's expression remained pleasant.

"That is reassuring."

"I have found it so." Seraphine glanced between them, then reached for her wine.

"Master Agnew has been very helpful since I arrived. Third-years know which rules matter and which ones are placed in handbooks to frighten the new students."

"That sounds like a dangerous confidence to give a first-year," Garrick said.

"Only to my sister." A few people smiled. Elara cut a piece of bread into two equal halves and placed them beside her bowl. The conversation moved elsewhere. Garrick spoke of a lecturer. Seraphine asked about a coming reception. Someone complained about the quality of the spring wine, and another guest defended it because her uncle supplied part of the Academy's cellar. Elara answered when addressed. She kept each reply complete. Then Seraphine said, "I've yet to meet your retainer."

The remark reached Elara first as noise through the table's other talk. A moment later the words arranged themselves.

"Master Rook until recently remained under a healer's restrictions," Elara said.

"Of course. He was badly hurt in your defence." Seraphine tore a small piece from her bread.

"I confess I'm curious. What sort of man accepts such a task in the first place?"

"A rascally one, perhaps," said a young nobleman near Garrick. That earned a brief laugh. Elara set her knife beside her spoon. Their handles formed a straight line against the plate. Seraphine looked reprovingly towards the young man.

"There is no need to be unkind. Master Rook is the hired sword whose conscience arrived at a fortunate hour. We should all be thankful it arrived at all."

"How fortunate?" someone asked. Seraphine lowered her gaze to her bread.

"I couldn't say." The young nobleman leaned forward.

"Did he ever explain why he changed sides, Lady Elara?" Elara replied that he had given evidence to the investigators. That wasn't what he meant, she knew. Everyone did. A woman in Arden green asked whether the kidnappers might have offered Cal less than he expected. Another wondered if he remained under formal investigation. Garrick asked nothing. He watched Elara with polite attention while the others supplied the questions. Seraphine let them.

"And he sleeps in your residence?" the woman in green asked.

"He has assigned quarters."

"Under the same roof."

"That is usually how household quarters work." The woman's hand stalled above her wine cup. Seraphine turned towards her.

"Is something the matter, Lady Mera?"

"Nothing at all. I am just a tad concerned."

"I can suspect why." Elara could have lifted the serving jug. She could have poured the watered wine over Seraphine's smooth coils and watched it run through all that careful work. The table would fall silent. Seraphine would stare. Every person near the high windows would carry the story away before the benches had dried. The jug stayed where it was. Heat gathered under her collar. Seraphine had used worse methods against her for years. She had sat through every one of them, unfazed. Why this, then? Why Cal?

Why was she getting angry over this? Cal had accepted money to take her. He had also put a blade into his companion when leaving the road would have been easier. These people wanted the first fact because it made a good story. The second required them to admit that a hired man had chosen better than many respectable ones would have done. Still, the anger made no sense. Seraphine had used worse methods against Elara for years, and Elara had learned to sit through them.

Cal had known exactly what he was when he took the oath. He required no defence from a table of idle nobles. Her fingers tightened around the wine cup. She put it down two inches to the left of its shallow pewter saucer.

"He is still a confessed conspirator," Seraphine said.

"Concern is reasonable."

"I think—" Elara stopped. Her voice had come out too low.

"I said that the matter appears different once one knows Cal Rook. He has acted with greater honour than his first employment would suggest." There. Plain enough. Seraphine studied her for a beat. Then she looked towards the others, as though Elara had supplied the answer she wanted.

"How considerate of you."

"I have every confidence in the arrangement," she said.

"You have known him for days."

"I knew enough to appoint him."

"And Father knows nothing of it." The table became quieter by a degree. Nearby conversations continued, though one of the guests beside Garrick developed a sudden interest in wiping his spoon. Elara took another bite. The stew was thick with barley and soft onion. She had to chew before answering, which helped.

"My retinue whilst at the Academy is my responsibility."

"Certainly." Seraphine's agreement came at once.

"That is why I thought I might help." Elara placed her spoon down. Seraphine named the first candidate, Ser Osric Vale, a retired knight with a respectable war record and a recommendation from Lord Tressel, who had served in two border campaigns and sought a quieter appointment while an old knee injury worsened. The second was Edric Rase, a minor lord's younger son who had received formal sword instruction and needed a household position until his elder brother married, his reference from Lady Mera's uncle.

Captain Bran Tarrow had left the city watch after years of command. He knew Asterbridge, Academy procedure, and the handling of hired guards. A Crown magistrate would vouch for him. A household knight's wage. An allowance suited to birth. A watch captain's pay. Seraphine gave each name in quick succession, then offered to send their references to Elara's rooms before evening. Agreement moved around the table in quiet hums.

"They all sound more suitable," Lady Mera said.

"Captain Tarrow, especially," another guest added.

"A young lady requires someone steady." Elara had heard enough in the details to know the price. Ser Osric would expect the wages of a household knight. Edric Rase's family would require an allowance suited to his birth. Captain Tarrow had commanded watchmen and would hardly accept a wounded mercenary's pay. Any one of them would consume more than Elara could meet from her own funds. Seraphine knew the size of her allowance. Accepting the offer would mean asking Father for money.

It would also place Seraphine's chosen man outside Elara's bedchamber.

"Thank you," Elara said.

"I will retain Master Rook." Seraphine folded her hands.

"You needn't decide at once."

"I have decided."

"This is a matter of safety."

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you should consider—""My decision is complete, Lady Seraphine." Full title. Across the table, Garrick lowered his cup without drinking. Seraphine's face remained composed.

"I only hoped to spare you another mistake." …Another? What was that supposed to mean? Elara looked down at her plate. Half the stew remained. One piece of bread sat untouched beside it, cut cleanly through the middle. She rose.

"Please excuse me. I have preparations to make before my next lesson." No one could object to that. Several guests murmured the proper farewells. Garrick stood again and wished her a peaceful afternoon. Elara returned the courtesy. She walked away from the high windows without looking towards Celine and Jory's table. Rejoining them now would require an explanation, and she had no wish to offer one while Seraphine could still see her. Behind her, the table's conversation resumed.

"I do worry," Seraphine said. Her voice carried easily when she wished it to.

"She appears quite attached to the man. I'm afraid she cannot make a sound choice where he is concerned." Gritting her teeth, Elara pushed through the refectory door.