The Rise Of The Morningstar (Eng. Version)

Chapter 34 - Soldiers Follow Orders

Chapter 34 – Soldiers Follow Orders

The Inquisitor's office hasn't changed a bit since my last visit. However, her broad desk made of solid wood seemed to have gotten even bigger. On the walls, which must have been made of a quartz-like rock, hung woven images of battles fought centuries ago. On the long wall of the rectangular room, opposite the wooden door, a glass passage led out onto a small balcony. The red roofs of Alicante sparkled in the glow of the setting sun like the rubies Isabelle loved to adorn herself with. Wasteland stretched out behind the city, buried under a layer of white snow. Everything beyond the city walls was a single, reflective white.

Behind the spacious desk that must have taken up almost a quarter of the office, the Inquisitor gave me a long, skeptical look. As if she expected me to jump up and throw myself off the balcony at any moment. Not that I thought about it, but I hated being here. I hated everything about it; the atmosphere, the smell, the topics of conversation. If the Inquisitor invited me to a meeting, I could be sure in advance that it would be uncomfortable. Most of all, I hated the Inquisitor herself, who always made me feel like I had to shoulder the guilt of my father's absence.

Rather than meet her blue-gray eyes, I tried to read Jace's mood from his stance. He had already been there when a guard escorted me in. Unlike our last visit, this time he sat next to me in the chair that looked as uncomfortable as mine felt. He gave me a sideways glance when entering the office, but hasn't paid any attention to me since. Of course not. Hardly a week had passed since our conversation and yet it felt like an eternity.

Jace had his legs spread and his arms hung languidly to the side of the thin chair arms. His posture and the impassive expression on his face suggested he'd rather be sitting on a sofa than in his grandmother's office right now. Everything about his appearance was rude and disrespectful to Imogen Herondale. He probably knew that, too, but seemed to care little if anything. What surprised me was that the Inquisitor didn't care either. Her eyes were mostly fixed on me, but when she looked at him, there was never even a hint of indignation in it. The arrogance of this family was outrageous. My father would never have let me get away with such behavior. I would never have dreamed of treating him like that.

The Inquisitor's deep sigh brought me back to the present, and I wondered why she sounded like she was having a hard time opening her mouth. Then she finally got the words out and her behavior suddenly made sense. "On behalf of the Clave, I must apologize to you, Clarissa. Kadir's behavior was unforgivable. No trained Nephilim should ever act so negligently and contrary to the decisions of the Clave."

I didn't dare reveal the grin that made my facial muscles almost twitch in amusement. Instead, I pressed my lips together to prevent my expression from deceiving me and nodded gravely. It was obvious just looking at Imogen how much willpower it took her to make the apology sound genuine. Anyone who had even a spark of knowledge of human nature could see that she actually didn't give a damn whether I had been injured in Kadir's ambush or what else could have happened. Her ice blue eyes were hard as stone. Only her face seemed torn between a friendly, distanced expression and the year-old anger that was seething deep inside her.

What would she do to me if the Clave just let her? I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. For a moment I allowed myself to think about it. She would kill me, there was no doubt about that. The only question was how brutal my death would be. I didn't think she was the kind of person who would choose a slow and protracted death. She seemed too wild beneath the surface for that, too bent on revenge.

I didn't elaborate on the Inquisitor's apology. It didn't take more than a nod of acknowledgment, very likely she preferred it that way. "I'm looking for an alternative coach for him, but that's proving more difficult than I thought. It has been found that many Nephilim are either unsuitable to tutor or simply refuse the job," the Inquisitor explained, giving me a meaningful look that said as much as You are the reason for it.