Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
B riony
I stroll through the campus in the half-light as the dawn crawls over the horizon. It’s quiet, everyone still sleeping and the buildings still and peaceful. Even the ravens aren’t flapping across the sky, screeching as usual.
Contentment hums in my belly and in my body. It isn’t a feeling I think I’ve ever truly experienced before. It’s strange, alien and pleasant. I could get used to it but I know that is a dangerous thing. This contentment won’t last – it can’t. One thing Slate Quarter teaches you is that hope is pointless. Sooner or later everything turns to shit. So no matter how nice the Princes seem, no matter how well they’re treating me now, I can’t – or won’t – believe it will last.
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts, I don’t realize where I am until I’m passing right outside the library.
I halt.
Everyone is sleeping. I imagine Professor Tudor will be sleeping as well.
This is my opportunity to go back inside and find that book. This is my opportunity to understand what really happened to my sister.
The only problem is, I don’t have a light – it was dark enough in the library during the middle of the day, but in the half-light of dawn, I imagine it will be impassable.
I’m considering where best to steal a candle or even a lamp, when my eyes stray to the roof of the library and to the windows that run just beneath it, and I realize it’s not dark in the library at all. The windows glow with an orange light. There’s someone in there. In the early hours of the morning.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m creeping up the steps to the building and pulling at the heavy door. It’s unlocked and I slip inside, hugging the shadows as I try to see who is in here this morning and what the hell they are doing.
Light flickers from somewhere deep in the stacks of the library and, faintly across the distance, I can hear voices – hushed voices despite the lateness of the hour. With my back tight to the wall, I strain my ears.
Two voices – one male, one female.
Maybe this is some illicit hook-up and I should get out of here before I’m accused of being a peeping tom. But then I recognize the first voice. Madame Bardin.
It makes no sense. Why would she be in here at this time of the morning?
I glide against the wall, edging closer.
“There are other ways. There is no need to resort to such menial actions,” she purrs, her voice seductive and dangerous.
Perhaps this is some rendezvous after all. Maybe with one of those twins. Maybe with both.
“Not ones I am willing to take,” the other voice hisses back. A voice I know. A voice I know well .
Professor Tudor.
Madame Bardin and Fox Tudor.
Of course!
It would make sense – the woman is beautiful in a strangely intimidating way and Professor Tudor is the only young attractive teacher on campus – if you discount the gruesome twosome who may be young but are definitely not attractive. It was inevitable that they would end up together.
But why meet in the library? They must have their own private rooms. Unless this is their thing, some kind of kink.
I guess I shouldn’t judge. I did let Beaufort Lincoln finger me on top of his chest of drawers. I did let two men bathe me.
Do I really want to overhear the two of them getting it on?
I should leave. This is a private moment and I don’t want to be caught snooping yet again – especially when these two are likely to be a lot more angry about it than Beaufort. However, my feet don’t move when I ask them to. Although the two of them together makes perfect sense, there’s also something about it that is strange. Fox’s tone isn’t one of a lover and I can’t help but hang about to hear more.
“There are other options open to you,” Madame Bardin says, “you could find yourself a–”
“I said no!”
She laughs. “Always so noble, so full of ideals, so na?ve. It’s what I liked best about you.”
Professor Tudor growls lowly which only makes Madame Bardin laugh harder.
“I’m not like you. I won’t take another–”
“Ahhh,” Madame says, cutting across the professor’s words – her own suddenly shrill and full of tension. “Unless you’ve already found–”
“I haven’t,” he says abruptly.
There’s a pause, one full of tension. I tiptoe forward, peering through the gaps in the bookcases until I see them.
They stand facing each other – Madame in a long black gown, cut low and clinging to her body. The professor dressed in his suit. Both wear long black cloaks pinned to their shoulders. Their hair is tussled, red lipstick smeared across their mouths and I was obviously wrong again. Maybe they are arguing now but before that they definitely were getting it on.
“You’ve found someone,” Madame says, her voice quiet now and full of tension.
“No,” Fox says, but the way his shoulders stiffen show me he’s lying. Madame spots it too.
“You can’t lie to me, Fox Tudor. You never could.” She tilts her head to one side, wiping the lipstick from her mouth. “Who are they?” Professor Tudor stares back at her and says nothing.
“You don’t want to share? And yet you used to be so eager to please me in every possible way.” She smiles cruelly and steps towards him, snaking her hand down his torso.
“Not any more,” he growls, snatching her hand away so violently, she stumbles, nearly losing her balance.
I gasp inadvertently at his violent behavior and immediately both their heads snap my way, eyes flashing in the dim light.
Shit!
“There’s someone here,” Madame says.
I smother another gasp, turn and race out of the library as quickly as I can, their footsteps discernible behind me.
“Stop!” the madame calls out.
But nothing in the world could compel me to stop. I don’t think they saw me and I don’t want them to know it was me spying on them.
I don’t stop until I’m outside. Here, I spin my vision around, looking for somewhere to hide. Choosing one of the nearest towers, I duck inside, closing the door quietly behind me and sinking into the shadows of the stairwell.
I hear their footsteps again, out on the cobblestones and then their whispered voices.
“They’re gone,” Professor Tudor says.
“Did you see them? Did you see who it was?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Hmmm,” she says, not sounding convinced. “I don’t like secrets, Fox.”
“I am aware,” he says, but then their voices fade as they move away.
I wait in the dark as long as I can bear it, just in case they are still lingering out on the pathway, and then I creep back out and hurry as quickly as I can back to my room. Inside, I beeline straight for my wardrobe, retrieving my bag from its hiding place and checking the contents. I shouldn’t have left it unguarded for so long – the entire night. However, everything is as I left it and once I’ve hidden my bag again, I climb into bed, curl up under the covers and go over the events in the library.
The conversation was strange – their relationship even stranger. Fox Tudor clearly hates Madame Bardin and yet if I’d been there a matter of minutes earlier, I’m sure I’d have seen the two of them all over each other. And the way she talked made it seem as if their relationship has been a long one. Maybe it’s one of those love–hate things. Maybe they’re exes. Maybe the sex is fueled by hate.
I imagine hate-fucking Beaufort Lincoln and decide it really is time to get out of bed because those thoughts are surprisingly hot.
I take a much needed cold shower – one advantage of living in this tower – and go in search of my friends.