Chapter 28 #2
The steward left them on the desk, then cocked one perfect eyebrow at her new gloves. “My lord Inquisitor, about this new wing expan—”
Estevan’s neck flushed once more. “Void take you and spare me your wing project, Sin! Get out of here.”
Mirth narrowed the Andakkadian’s eyes into two thin slits. He gave them both a silent bow, then left.
They ate together, discussing their travel plans and arguing over each detail.
“No, I won’t budge on this, Estevan,” she argued for the last one. “We’re going with Themas. You can stay behind if you don’t like it.”
“We do not need him,” the inquisitor replied, “and I do not trust him enough to let him in on the details of our plan. He will only be in the way.”
Her tone grew colder. “You may not need him, but I do. I’m relying on him.”
A small lie—for him and for herself. The young knight hadn’t freed her despite his promises, but he had tried to help, and that had to be enough for her to count on him again.
Her choices of allies were limited, and she had no intention of staying alone in the inquisitor’s presence for longer than she needed to, so Themas would have to do.
If things went wrong, she wanted someone on her side. She couldn’t trust Estevan anymore.
He must have understood her reasons, for he stayed silent for a moment. “I understand,” he finally replied as he looked away. “He may come.”
“Good. I will show the way to Yore only to you, but you must swear to keep it secret. Themas will remain behind for that part of the trip. I’m already betraying the trust of my Coven by bringing an inquisitor onto our sacred grounds. A Venator knight is … is too much.”
Estevan nodded solemnly, keeping silent as they finished their meals.
Three dry knocks resonated against the wooden door. The inquisitor bade them to enter, and his two knights stepped inside.
Sir Ulrech scowled at Estevan as soon as he came in. The simple white shirt straining around his broad shoulders, and the lack of cloak and sword, reminded Semras he had been given leave for the evening. It made her feel a little guilty, but he’d return to Nimue’s side soon enough.
In a sharp contrast, Themas stood still with his back straight, still fully armoured. A blank, stony expression on his face shielded his state of mind; only an erring glance toward Semras revealed how confused and worried he truly was.
She smiled, hoping to reassure him.
The inquisitor eyed his knights critically. “We have a new lead for the case. Semras will accompany me to follow it. From now on, she no longer needs to be watched. As for you both, you shall play different roles—”
“You are freeing Semras?” Themas cut him off, startling them all.
“An astute deduction from my words, Maldoza,” Estevan answered icily.
The young knight took no notice of it. In mere seconds, he strode to Semras and dragged her into his arms. “Thank the Lord, oh thank the Radiant Lord. When I couldn’t find you, I feared the worst …”
Semras froze in shock. Beyond Themas’ shoulders, she watched Ulrech raise his eyebrows to an almost comical degree of outrage, while Estevan …
Dismay marred Estevan’s face. Jaw clenched, the inquisitor was staring wordlessly at them, his eyes searching her for—she dared not guess at it.
With a tight, uncomfortable smile, Semras patted Themas on his back. “I am fine, Themas. Inquisitor Velten and I had a lengthy conversation, and all was cleared up.” She pushed the knight away, and he let her slip out of his embrace. “It was all a … just a misunderstanding.”
Themas looked down at her hands. “How can you say that, after what he made you endure? Semras, you don’t need to cater to this bast—”
“I. Am. Right here,” Estevan seethed.
Ignoring him, the young knight cupped her face in his hands. “Semras …” he drawled. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to you. I still mean it.”
Themas kissed her.
Semras turned stiff. Against her palms, his chest was a wall of stone, unyielding to her push. Themas kissed her just as roughly as he had before; insistently, hurriedly, hungrily. It didn’t feel like an act of love.
It felt like an act of war.
“Venator Knight-Brother!” Ulrech roared. “Remember your vow!”
Themas released her. “No need to,” he said, still looking at her. He winked and then turned to stare at the older knight. “I do not intend to remain a knight for much longer.”
“Excellent, for you certainly will not be after I report this incident to the Confraternity! Have you lost your senses along with all notions of propriety? What were you thinking …”
Ulrech’s dressing down faded to the back of Semras’ mind, pushed away to make space for the vast, cold emptiness she found in Estevan’s stare.
Nothing in his expression gave his thoughts away. His blank, icy blue eyes pierced right through her and then dimmed behind closing eyelids.
Inquisitor Velten looked away. “If that is your wish, Maldoza, then you shall be released from your vows once this is over,” he said, turning his back to watch out the window.
“Until then, you are to escort us during a stealth mission. You need not prepare your belongings; Sin’Sagar is taking care of everything. ”
“Let me prepare them myself,” Themas protested. “I don’t need—”
“No.” Inquisitor Velten sneered coldly. “You will do as I command until your vows are voided. We are departing shortly, and I shall tolerate no delay. As for you, Sir Ulrech, you know what to do during my absence. No one must know I am gone.”
“Again?” Groaning, the older knight pinched the bridge of his nose. “May I remind you that the last time I impersonated you, my lord—”
“Nimue ended up with child, I know. That is on you, var Hesser,” Estevan replied in a lighter tone. “I do not recall asking you for such a convincing act.”
“That is not what I meant to say, my lord!” Sir Ulrech sputtered.
“And yet it is still true. Make a show of my staying with my ‘mistress’ in the west wing for any spying eyes. That will give you an excuse to avoid the staff and keep the deception of my absence intact.” Estevan unpinned his insignia, then offered the knight his cloak.
“Please refrain from making another Jaqhen so soon after the first one. Give the poor woman some rest, my friend.”
Glowering, Ulrech ripped the cloak out of Estevan’s hands. “As. You. Command.” He draped it around his shoulder, muttering curses under his breath.
The inquisitor looked around. “Any questions?”
“Yes,” Themas said. “What’s the lead we’re—?”
The inquisitor motioned for the young knight and the witch to follow him out of the room without answering.
“Where is Pagan?” Estevan looked around. “Sin’Sagar, where is my Void-taken horse?”
When they stepped outside, only one chestnut-coloured horse stood next to the mansion’s front gate. A stable boy with a brown cap and rolled-back sleeves was securing the straps of its saddle under the careful watch of the steward.
Sin’Sagar greeted them with a polite bow. “Pagan has escaped to the backyard pond, my lord. As I was unable to persuade him to return to shore, I deemed it more prudent to leave the task to you,” he said before returning his attention to the stable boy.
His task finished, the young man waited for a nod and a coin, then thanked the steward profusely as he left.
“I have packed in the bags all the items you requested, my lord,” Sin’Sagar continued. “I wish you luck with your steed, and bid you all goodbye.” He bowed before walking back to the mansion.
Estevan shook his head. “In all the times that damn stallion could have gone for a swim … You both wait here for me. I will not be long.”
Mumbling a litany of curses about kelpies and sources of water, the inquisitor disappeared behind the back of the house. Only Semras and the young knight remained by the horse.
It twitched its ears.
Themas gazed at the front door. “I … I need to do something before we leave. I’ll be back quickly. If Inquisitor Velten returns before I do, could you cover for me?”
“Wait,” Semras said. “There’s something I must tell you.”
The knight flashed her a shallow smile. “I believe I already know.”
“It’s about—”
“Velten? I know.” He looked down at her gloved hands. “I’m not blind.”
Frowning, the witch examined them too. “What is the deal with—oh, let me guess. It’s like the cloak, isn’t it? An act of courtship?”
“Oh, yes …” Themas gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Very intimate. Did he also touch your bare hands with his?”
“Bare—?” He had, she remembered. And his ears and neck had been flushed too while he had done so. “This is getting ridiculous. He just gave me these to … to cover my hands. The witch-shackles didn’t leave me unscathed, and my fingers can’t weave as well now as they once did. He just tried to help.”
Scrutinizing the mansion’s facade, the knight shuffled on his feet. “Why would he? He did that to you, Semras. What made him change his mind? What made you change yours?”
“I …” She searched for words. “I made a deal with him. We’re getting this murder affair wrapped up, and then he leaves me alone. For good. So, I assure you, Estevan gifting me his gloves means nothing.”
“Velten is religious gentry. He knows exactly what that gesture meant—and it’s not nothing.” Themas let out a sigh. “Given his reputation, though, this is not surprising. You can’t blame me for being worried for you, Semras. If you’d heard of the scandals he has caused before, you’d—”
“It would change nothing. I can think of other things far more scandalous than mere hand touching that …” Her voice trailed off as the memory of a bloody kiss in a glade of hot cinders and icy rain filled her mind.
Then another one supplanted it, and Semras frowned.
“… that you did. You kissed me, Themas. In front of him. How is that not more scandalous?”