The Alchemical Child

Chapter Seventeen

"I have a task for you," Oriana announced as soon as Sage stepped through the door. She was in much better spirits than she had been the previous morning, which Sage decided was probably related to the empty broth bowl beside her chaise.

"Pardon?" Sage's heart quickened at the glint in her eye, spreading a hot worry that was at odds with the frigid wind blowing in from the open balcony.

"A little adventure into the palace," said Oriana, twirling a paintbrush between her fingers even though the easel was still blank. "I don't suppose they gave you the full tour, though that won't be too much an issue. For this task, you only need to go back down those stairs and past the tapestry with the serpent."

Sage felt a discomfort roll through her stomach. On her very first day, the Chamberlain had warned her she needed an escort when inside the palace. But had he only meant when being granted entry, or at all times? She had left the palace on her own yesterday without any problems.

Oriana continued to speak, blithely unaware of the turmoil in Sage's head. "The sun is so gorgeous today, and the Council meetings are dreadfully dull. So I'm going to send you in my stead. It should only be an hour or so, and then you can return here and report your conclusions."

"But..." Sage stuttered to find her words. "But, won't the Council object to me being at the meeting instead of you?"

"Oh, absolutely," Oriana replied. "And that is why I'm not sending you to the Council Chamber, but to a room just above it. You'll be able to listen in—though not pose your own arguments, unfortunately—and take notes for me in my absence. You have a notebook, yes?"

"Yes," said Sage, her stunned hands fumbling in her satchel for paper and a pencil.

"Excellent. The meeting is usually arranged for nine. A good half of them are always late, but you'd better be off now so you don't miss anything."

Oriana was herding Sage towards the door, and it was all she could do not to grab the frame and refuse to let go. "How will I know which room is the right one?"

"Ah, I almost forgot you wouldn't," said Oriana as if everyone should know the exact layout of the palace. "You'll find a corridor past the tapestry. It goes quite a distance because it's designed as a circuit for Monarchs to take without actually having to walk through the palace proper. But after you enter, you must look for the third steps on your right. After that, take the door with a snake eating its tail and find the chair with a velvet cushion. Underneath the chair is a grate, and you'll be able to hear everything said in the Council Chamber through there."

Sage tried to remember the directions even as she desperately said, "But I'm just a Student, maybe I shouldn't be listening to private Council discussions."

"You are a citizen of the city run by these men," Oriana corrected sharply. "The matters of their discussions should be entirely public to all those interested. You have every right to listen."

"And yet, you're making me eavesdrop through a grate?"

"Correct."

Only minutes later, Sage was at the bottom of the stairwell with a hand clenched on the serpent's tapestry. It had sequined eyes that glittered with unspoken secrets. Sage guessed that it must've seen plenty of private affairs, because if she was being sent to spy on Council meetings, then there was no doubt that the pathways had been used for other discreet deeds.

The corridor beyond stretched just as far as Oriana had warned, but what she hadn't said was just how much it turned and twisted. Sometimes, the walls grew so narrow that claustrophobia clung to Sage's chest and, to reach the third flight of steps, she had to crouch beneath an overhang so that cobwebs wouldn't catch on her coat. It certainly didn't seem very regal, but it appeared that even in the palace, privacy came at a price.