Chapter 6
EMMETT
How dare he treat me so dismissively.
I pace my room. Embarrassment gave way to anger some time ago, but with no outlet for it, I’m reduced to walking the seven steps across my room and back.
I fling myself down on the bed and reach for my saddle bags. I extract some parchment and a quill. My uncle will be expecting a progress update, so I can at least do that.
I scrunch up the paper and throw it across the room where it hits the wall and plops down next to the other two balls.
I can’t find the right words. How can I say it isn’t going well without actually looking like I can’t do the one task that’s been entrusted to me?
I pack the paper away again. There’s no point in wasting any more.
A knock on the door startles me and I cross the room quickly, my heart beating faster as I imagine it’s Theobald.
“Oh.” It’s Abel.
“There’s dinner in the dining room,” he states plainly.
“And is the abbot there?” I ask, hope springing up in me.
“No, he’s busy right now.” He turns and walks down the corridor, and I follow him.
“He’s always busy.” It comes out as a whine, as if he didn’t give up a couple of hours of his day to show me around earlier. Abel pauses at the door to the dining room.
“He has over one hundred people in his care. It takes up a lot of his time.” I can almost feel the disapproval dripping off him as he opens the door, and I push past him, not caring for the way he looks at me.
I take a seat and start filling my plate.
Although I am dining alone, the food is welcome.
It’s a similar feast to what I was served last night.
I heap chicken, fish, and cheese onto my plate and start to tuck in.
But as I take bite after bite my thoughts return to the only other meal I had today.
Simple fare of bread and honey, which tasted so much better than what I have before me.
The ease that the abbot had around the other monks is a stark contrast to the stern way he acts towards me.
Though there were a few moments during the tour where he seemed a little softer, even knowing that I was famished and providing food.
He took great time and care when we visited the infirmary, to make sure everyone had his attention.
They all seemed to revere him as if somehow his very presence could heal them.
He does exude a calmness, a surety that I’ve not experienced before, and even after I’ve finished my meal, I still feel hollow inside.
I don’t return to my room. Instead I slip out to find the abbot. I don’t care what Abel says. I’m tired of being overlooked and only being seen when it suits the abbot. I want his attention on me.
I make my way across the grounds and through a door when no one is looking.
I find myself in a covered walkway that appears to be part of a quadrangle.
A few monks with bowed heads and their cowls up walk in the centre of what looks to be part of a garden.
They pay me no heed and I’m grateful for the growing dusk.
I creep as quickly and silently as I can along one side of the quadrangle and around a corner, where I see stairs heading to an upper level.
Most of the monks appear to be heading up them and I wait in the shadows.
My heart hammers loudly, though I don’t know why.
I know that Theobald said I wasn’t allowed in here, but what can they really do if I’m caught?
The thought makes me bolder and I step out of the gloom.
The final group of monks breaks up, two taking the stairs and one heading straight towards my position. Despite my bravado, I still hold my breath.
“Emmett?” A deep whisper calls my name.
I look and see it is the abbot in front of me. Relief floods through me that it’s him and not someone else who’s discovered me.
“What are you doing here? I told you this was a private area,” he continues, though he grabs my elbow and marches me back the way I’ve come. His closeness makes my head fuzzy and my argument sound weak.
“I came to find you. Every time I want to talk to you, you disappear,” I whisper back, though it sounds loud enough to echo round the corridor, and Theobald’s grip on my arm tightens. We reach the door I came through and he all but pushes me through it.
“And I will not see you now,” he says. It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound angry. “We’ll talk again tomorrow after breakfast.”
I whirl around to protest but the door has already closed behind him, and I hear the sound of a bolt being drawn. I cry in frustration and fist my hands, about to beat on the door, but as I lift my hand to strike the heavy oak, I decide against it. Instead, another idea forms in my mind.
I’ll go where he certainly can’t ignore me.
I walk back to his quarters and make my way to my room.
I slowly get undressed, leaving on only my undershirt.
He won’t be able to just dismiss me now, and if he does, I’ll cause a scene.
It’ll work in my favour and add proof to the rumours, making my job easier.
My skin tingles with the excitement and audacity of my plan as I leave my room and step across the passage.
I silently open his door and in the darkness, slip into his bed.