Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Nobles seem to flout typical rules everywhere they go, but for some reason they respect the college library. Even with most of the tables full and students wandering amid the aisles in the early hours of the evening, a hush fills the vast room.
I meander along the bookcases and around the tables as if I’m casually making my way to a specific reference section. In reality, I’m peeking at the students around me and their reading material for anything that would raise my—or Julita’s—suspicions.
Herbal grimoire, she says as we pass one guy who’s peering intently at a huge tome. That could be a resource for darker intentions… but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard him talk about his studies to become a medic.
I can’t answer her here without being obvious, so I give my head a subtle tip of a nod and move on.
Really, checking up on the noble students’ studies is only an excuse to wander around. I’m hoping that Alek, scholar that he is, spends plenty of time in the library outside of our meetings—and some of it in the main room rather than the archives.
I wouldn’t want to be caught poking around down there on my own, but all students and staff are welcome in the library proper.
I’d like to give Alek the book I pilfered on his behalf before Stavros notices it and asks where I got it. When I explain at tomorrow’s meeting what I learned about Ster. Torstem and his hidden harlots today, I’m going to finesse the story a little.
The men don’t need to know I painted myself up as a prostitute.
If Alek puts two and two together after he’s got the unusual treasure in his possession, somehow I don’t think he’s going to make a fuss about it.
The palace bell rings distantly to mark the seventh hour of the later day. I veer around another set of shelves, debating giving up my search for now in favor of dinner.
My stomach puts in its vote with a gurgle.
But then my persistence pays off. I spot Alek’s messy black hair and the gleam of polished leather across his bronze-brown face a few rows down this aisle.
I step toward him—and a different figure moves in front of me with a brush of fingertips against my arm.
I freeze, staring up at Wendos’s coppery features. He’s got less than a foot on me, but Julita’s shudder reverberates through my nerves, putting me twice as on guard as I would be otherwise.
If her brother’s old friend notices my reaction, he doesn’t show it. He offers a relaxed smile with a flash of white teeth. “Sorry if I startled you. You’re Ivy, right? Julita’s friend?”
Julita practically snarls. What under the gods’ gaze does he want with you?
I remember at the last second that I shouldn’t have any idea who he is. At least, not as much as Julita has told me.
“Perhaps acquaintance is more accurate,” I say, keeping my voice as light as I can manage while my pulse thumps hard. “My family’s from the other end of Nikodi. We didn’t visit often.”
That should explain why he won’t remember me.
He doesn’t let the subject go immediately, though his tone stays casual. “Still, I’m surprised we never ran into each other. I’m Wendos—I was a good friend of her brother’s.”
Julita lets out an inarticulate hiss.
I bite back the words I’d like to chide her with. Doesn’t she realize I need to concentrate?
I tilt my head to the side as if in thought. “Oh, I think possibly we did meet once. I’m not sure we were fully introduced. You and Borys were just racing off on some adventure, I suppose.”
The picture I painted must fit Wendos’s childhood enough for him to believe it, because he chuckles. “I apologize if my manners weren’t the best back then. Maybe I can make up for it now. I tried to look out for Julita after she arrived at the college, since Borys isn’t here to do it…”
He pauses and sketches his hand down his front in a hasty gesture of the divinities. “I’m worried. If you have any idea what’s happened to her, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Help dig me a deeper grave, he’d like, Julita sneers, her presence writhing against the back of my skull, so agitated my scalp itches. What a pack of lies he’s trying to sell.
Is it possible he does actually feel guilty now that she’s disappeared? He’s definitely evaluating me, but it’s possible he’s checking whether I’m a potential ally rather than an opponent.
After all Julita’s obsession with him, she hasn’t turned up a scrap of evidence that he’s stuck with his old, awful ways.
Not that I’m going to tell him anything. I don’t trust him farther than I could spit a rat.
But I’m keeping my mind open to evidence on both sides, since she obviously won’t.
I twist my mouth in a regretful grimace. “Unfortunately, she barely told me anything the last time I saw her. I assumed she was doing something for school, nothing that would cause her any trouble. Do you have any idea what else she might have been involved in?”
Wendos sighs and runs his hand through his shaggy hair. “No. It took me by surprise. But if you come across any indication, will you let me know?”
I force an ingratiating smile. “Of course. I’m not sure that’s very likely, though. I assume the school authorities are looking into her disappearance, and I’ve left them to it. It’s not as if there’s anything I can do on that score.”
Wendos holds my gaze for a moment longer. “We’ll just have to hope they turn up something and that she’s all right. And if I can lend a hand with anything at all, Ivy, do let me know.”
He strolls off, leaving my nerves jangling and Julita sputtering a string of curses I wouldn’t have thought a noblewoman would know. If I could reach out of your body and strangle him…
“He’s gone now,” I say in the quietest possible whisper, feeling like I need to try to settle her down somehow. “And he doesn’t know any more than he did before.”
To my frustration, Alek is gone too. I head toward the row of bookcases where I saw him before and duck down it, but there’s no one browsing the texts there now.
A quick skim reveals that this section is focused on the study of stones and soil. Not a popular subject among the elite, apparently.
I’ve drifted halfway down the row when Alek appears at the other end. After a quick glance to confirm I’m alone, he strides over, his mouth set in a pensive expression beneath the slanted edge of his mask.
“Is everything all right?” he asks quietly. “I saw Wendos come over to you.”
His gaze flicks from my eyes to my forehead. He’s at least as worried about Julita’s reaction as my own, clearly.
I guess I can’t blame him for that, especially in this particular case. “He didn’t say much, just seemed interested in whether I knew where Julita had gone. She’s pretty peeved with him, but he didn’t try anything questionable.”
Alek’s shoulders ease down from their defensive pose. “Good. If she’s right about him, we have to be careful.”
“Oh, don’t worry, she’s made sure I’m well aware of that fact.
” I offer a wry smile and then dig out the small, leatherbound volume from the pocket I stashed it in.
“I was actually hoping I’d run into you.
I found something I thought you might appreciate.
The vocabulary and the style are a little beyond me, but I’ve never seen anything like it here in Florian. ”
Alek takes the Woudish poetry book from me and flips open the cover. After a moment, his posture goes rigid. His attention jerks back to me. “Did you tell Julita about this? Was it her idea to give it to me?”
I can’t help stiffening up too. Why would he think the gift must be from her?
“No,” I say shortly. “I was thinking about our conversation in the archives. If you don’t want it—”
“I’ll keep it. I—” He peers at me for a moment longer. “Do you know what this is?”
My cheeks heat. “Like I said, it’s not the basic Woudish I’m used to. I, er, got the impression it was romantic poetry? But I was thinking of your interest in the language in an academic sense.”
“Where did you get it?”
“A shop in town,” I say, which is only sort of a lie. “It was tucked in a jumble—I don’t think they knew enough Woudish to tell what it was about either.”
Alek lets out a chocked guffaw. “No doubt. It’s poetry, yes, but from what I can tell the focus is less romantic and more erotic.”
“Oh.” I shouldn’t be surprised given where I found it, should I?
My face flares even hotter. Did he think I meant it as some kind of proposition?
Or that Julita might have?
The words tumble out faster than I can think them through.
“I honestly didn’t realize it was quite that…
intense. But it’d still give a different perspective on Woudish phrasing and thought than anything the college will have, won’t it?
That’s all I intended by it. I wouldn’t imagine—I’m not an idiot. ”
The shock fades from Alek’s face into something more like confusion. “What do you mean?”
My dress abruptly feels too tight against my skin. I dig my fingers into the folds of my skirt. “I wouldn’t have offered it as some kind of seduction attempt. I’m a street rat. You’re a noble. Like I said, I’m not an idiot.”
Alek stares at me for long enough that I think my actual skin has gotten too tight as well. A rough chuckle escapes him.
He glances down at the book, shakes his head, and looks back at me with his piercing gaze that makes me feel as if he’s seen more than I meant to show.
“Just to be clear,” he says, low but steady, “it’s obvious that you’re not just a ‘street rat.’ And those were Stavros’s words in the first place, not mine.
I’m not really a noble either. I’m a merchant’s son.
A well-off merchant, but nothing compared to—” He waves vaguely toward the rest of the library.
“I got here through luck, good will, and working my tail off.”
Now it’s my turn to stare. He’s not noble-born?
I had heard that determined outsiders and those with enough coin to spare could sometimes win a spot in the royal college, but I assumed it was rare enough that it never occurred to me any of Julita’s men would be among those.
I guess Alek has never shown quite the same airs as the others, but I assumed that was more his personality than his upbringing.
“I didn’t realize. I still wouldn’t have—”
Alek waves the book before slipping it into his pocket. “I understand. I’ll take it as the scholarly gesture it was. Thank you. I just… I wouldn’t have thought you were an idiot.”
I hesitate, not sure how to interpret that declaration. Before I can sort out my thoughts, laughter and arch voices carry from the aisle, getting louder.
Some students are heading toward us. We’re not supposed to be seen together any more than strictly necessary.
Alek takes a step back, bobs his head in a silent farewell, and hustles away. I turn, planning to amble off in the other direction, just as Anya and two of her friends saunter into view at that end of the row.
Anya spots me at once. She gives a wry giggle and aims a sharp little smile at me. “Oh, look who we’ve run into. Miss Backwater who thinks she’s too good for the rest of us.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m just looking for reading material like everyone else here.”
“Figuring out more ways to ingratiate yourself with the staff, I suppose. How much higher do you figure you can climb than Ster. Stavros?”
She giggles again, even more humorlessly than the first time, and taps her elbow against her friend’s arm. “There’s something on those bookcases you might be looking for, don’t you think, Tavonne?”
A similarly venomous smirk curves the other woman’s mouth. She holds out her hand—and a book flies off a shelf behind me, whacking me in the back of the head.