Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 24: Rumours

To say that the room I am standing in right now is elegant would be a severe understatement—all along three sides of the walls are bookcases, shelved and nearly exploding with beautifully bound tomes; the marble floor is glided, with nary a speck of dust settling on the surface; the ceiling is high, approximately fifteen feet above, with a lavish chandelier illuminating the room like a cheerful old friend. The ruler of this room, seated behind an imposing desk, is the Captain of the Guard, who is currently scribbling notes onto a piece of paper.

As he writes, I observe him. For a brief moment, I wonder if Sir Eldric has ever been married. The sharp angles of his face are too harsh; the folds at the corners of his eyes are brutal. Evidently he had procured the decorations for the room, and while it is beautiful, it seems to be lacking something substantial—harmony. Everything is too neat, too precise, as though the keeping of orderliness in the room is a priority above everything else.

"Here." After he has finished writing, he passes the piece of paper to me. I briefly scan through it; they are the questions I have to ask Quinnian Allura on his behalf. "Do not lose it," he says warningly.

"I will not, good sir." I fold the parchment and tuck it away in the pocket of my breeches.

"The interrogation will be arranged for as soon as possible," says Sir Eldric. He snatches up a rag to wipe away the ink splattered all over his fingers.

I hesitate—should I continue to breach protocol, even in the name of duty? Finally, I decide to voice my thoughts: "Captain Eldric, if you would be so kind, I would like to gather information before I actually uh...ask"—interrogate seems too heavy a word—"Quinnian Allura regarding her role in the incident."

His face shows no visible disagreement, but his tone says otherwise. "Squire Rutherland, I am sure that you know your place here. This is an order, one that is not to be trifled with."

Inhaling and exhaling through my teeth, I try to rephrase my request. "Sir, I barely know Quinnian Allura. I think some background information would help me to be better prepared when facing her. In the long run, it might produce better results."

The captain's eyes glint dangerously; I manage to hold his stare. At last, he relents with an impatient shrug of his shoulders. "Bah. Do as you like. The Champions of Pst. Bronicus and their logic. Even if I don't give you permission to do so, you'll think yourself in the right and go ahead to do it anyway." Surprisingly, the corners of his lips quirk up a little. "Wouldn't you?"

"Thank you, sir." I bow towards him. The gesture is returned with a slight inclination of the head.

"You may take your leave now." Giving a terse nod, I wheel around and exit the room. Once I make sure the door is shut, I lean onto a nearby wall for support, as the results of my actions start to sink in. Indirectly, I have just told a captain on how the job should be done, and gotten away with it. I'm not sure if it's something to celebrate about, or if it's a disturbing fact, but I actually feel...smug. Proud of myself.

"Pst. Bronicus forgive me," I mutter to no one in particular. Straightening my back, I veer towards the right, towards the exit of the hallway. Servants and the like bow and curtsy as I pass them, their eyes reflecting how intimidated and awed they are by the way I hold my stance.

******

"She quickly disappears into her room after sundown" "She wears too many layers of robes to our taste" "She never comes out at night" The various information I managed to glean from the servants continue to ring in my head, even as I'm heading for the Galennus Workhouse. The words are jumbled up, confusing, yet they strike terror deep in my heart.

One particular story seems too detailed to be a falsehood. The maidservant who attends Quinnian Allura said that her mistress refuses to allow her to help in dressing. At first, she thought that it was bashfulness at revealing one's naked body to someone else, but as time went by, she began to suspect something else.