“‘THAT SEEMS UNLIKELY,’ I replied, trying my best to look unimpressed. ‘There’s but one female sovereign of this realm, and her name is Isabella the First.’
“‘Devils fuck that syphilitic whore,’ Astrid growled.
“Again, that shook me. The Emperor was chosen by divine right, his union blessed by God Himself. To speak so of the Empress was not only treasonous, but blasphemous. And this sisternovice seemed to give not a beggar’s cuss about either.
“As if remembering herself, Astrid offered me the pipe.
“‘Merci, no.’
“‘I thought you palebloods enjoyed your smoke?’
“‘Sanctus is a holy sacrament,’ I scowled. ‘Not an indulgence of base vice.’
“‘Whatever scratches your itch, Initiate.’ Astrid took another drag, exhaling out the window. ‘My mother is Antoinette Rennier, former courtesan in the court of Emperor Philippe IV, and favored mistress of his son Prince Alexandre.’
“‘You mean Emperor Alexandre.’
“‘Well, he wasn’t emperor when Mother started bedding him.’
“‘You’re … daughter of the ruler of all Elidaen,’ I breathed, my eyes a-wonder. ‘Benefactor of the Order of San Michon, Protector of the Realm and Chosen of God Himself.’
“‘You make my father sound far more impressive than he is, trust me.’
“I could scarce believe what I was hearing. But I could feel the weight in her words. Astrid Rennier had the air of nobility, oui. But more, behind the smoke-blur in her eyes, I could sense an indignity and rage that left me little doubt she spoke truth.
“‘You’re actually … royalty…’
“‘A bastard is what I actually am.’
“‘… I never really thought of girls being bastards.’
“‘That’s because girls can’t inherit property. But I am indeed a royal bastard.’ Astrid tucked a lock of raven black behind her ear. ‘Sometimes a royal bitch besides.’
“‘Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it…’
“‘Ah, he shows some teeth at last. Perhaps there is a lion in him, after all.’
“‘What are you doing in San Michon?’
“‘Being kept out of sight and mind,’ she replied, toying with the stem of her pipe. ‘I was raised at court, you see. My mother kept in customary fashion of a prince’s mistress. But once the prince became emperor and got himself an empress, his new bride took exception to our presence. And so, we suffered the fate of all unwanted noblewomen in this empire. Whisked off to the silence and security of a nunnery.’ Astrid’s lips twisted in a bitter smile. ‘Better than a brothel, I suppose.’
“‘… Your mother is here, too?’
“‘No. Bitch-Empress Isabella thought it unwise to keep us together. Mother’s in Redwatch. The Priory of San Cleyland. I haven’t seen her in a year.’
“‘I’m sorry. That seems…’
“‘Unjust,’ Astrid murmured. ‘Unjust is what it is.’
“‘… That’s why you named him so,’ I realized.
“She looked at me then, her bloodshot eyes puzzled.
“‘The gelding. You named him Justice.’
“‘Ah.’ She nodded, her mood growing fey again. ‘One more thing they took from me. They’re very good at that in this place. Taking, I mean.’ She folded her arms, lips thin. ‘What did you name him instead? Some clichéd nonsense like Shadow or Sooty?’
“‘He kept the name you gave him. Justice suits him well.’
“I watched the beauty spot beside her lip as she smiled sadly. ‘Merci.’
“‘I’m sorry. That they took him from you.’
“‘Hearts only bruise. They never break.’ Astrid shrugged, as if to banish the shadow on her shoulders. ‘But I appreciate you stood up for me against the prioress that day, Gabriel de León. Peasant-born or no, that took a noble soul.’
“I felt aflame with her flattery. Altogether confounded in her presence. She was older. Obviously deeper in the ways of the world. The ink on my very skin had been carved by her hand. Truth told, though I was taller, stronger, hardened by years of labor and months of bladework, I felt a blundering child around this girl.
“‘How did you get in here?’ she asked. ‘Did you steal a key?’
“‘I’m no thief either, Sisternovice.’
“‘Then how were you planning to make your way about? That surly old bastard Adamo usually has everything locked up of an eve.’
“‘I thought I’d bend the bars. But to be honest, I hadn’t really planned that far ahead. I’m not even sure how I’m going to sneak back into Barracks.’
“‘Presumably the same way you got out?’
“‘No way to do that without wings. I crawled out through the privies.’
“‘That sounds like a shit plan, Initiate.’”
Jean-François paused his writing, chuckling faintly. “You see, that was amusing, de León.”
“Fuck off, vampire.”
The historian gave a small bow and continued scribbling.
“I hung my head, realizing the sisternovice was right. Greyhand had warned me about my impetuousness in Skyefall, yet apparently, I hadn’t learned my lesson.
“‘It was a touch foolish, I suppose,’ I admitted.
“‘Welllll, let’s just call it reckless,’ Astrid declared. ‘Recklessness is a far more admirable quality in a member of the Ordo Argent than foolishness, wouldn’t you say?’
“Looking into her smile, I found myself smiling back.
“‘Enchanted now, aren’t you?’ she asked.
“Astrid offered the pipe again.
“‘Not much left.’
“‘Merci, no. I didn’t come here to smoke.’
“‘Then why are you here, Initiate de León?’
“I studied this sisternovice, trying to ignore the shiver-sweet fragrance of her blood between us. The fact that she was in the forbidden section—and speaking with such disdain for the powers that be—told me she probably wouldn’t go shouting about it if I told her the truth. I didn’t know if I should trust her. But God knew I trusted no one else.
“And besides, she was right. Forget enchanted. By then, I was damn near enthralled.
“‘Have you ever heard the word sanguimancy?’
“‘No. It sounds some measure of blood witchery?’
“‘I don’t know what it is. But apparently, it’s a gift that’s been passed to me.’
“‘But … you’re frailblood, aren’t you?’
“I chewed my lip, remembering the tingle of her fingertips across my skin as she inked the lion on my chest. I reached down to my right hand, toying with the ring my mama had given me as a boy. Wondering why she hadn’t just given me the truth instead. ‘Seraph Talon told me I was frailblood. But Greyhand suspects I’m descended from another kith bloodline altogether. A fearsome one, and ancient, thought extinguished centuries ago.’
“Astrid leaned forward, intrigued. ‘Your father…?’
“‘I never met him. But I came here tonight in the hope I’d discover something of all this in these archives. I can’t ask Greyhand. He already lied to me about it. He and Talon were talking about killing me for it. But I need to learn about this sanguimancy if I’m to master it and understand the truth of what I am. The last seven months I’ve wandered about here thinking I was the lowest of the low. And now I discover I’ve some gift that might make me the greatest silversaint ever known?’
“One eyebrow rose. ‘And is that what you want? To be great? To be known?’
“‘My sister was murdered by a coldblood,’ I said, tone growing fierce. ‘She was twelve years old. And instead of being left to rest in her grave, Amélie rose again, nothing but a monster herself. If by being here, I can save one child, spare one mother the hell of what mine suffered, I’ll do whatever I can to do it well. And damn right I want to be fucking great. Don’t you? Don’t you want your life to count for something? To matter?’
“‘More than anything.’ Her eyes were brief fire as she looked to the window. She whispered then, and her words sounded more like a prayer. ‘I’d tear the wings off an angel to fly this cage. I’d claw down the sky to carve my name into this earth.’
“I nodded. ‘One day as a lion is worth ten thousand as a lamb.’
“The sisternovice tilted her head, looked me over.
“‘Interesting,’ she murmured.
“‘What is?’
“‘You are.’
“I turned my eyes to the rows of countless tomes on the shelves about us. All those silent secrets. Astrid drummed her fingers on the book beside her.
“‘Ask nicely,’ she said.
“‘… What?’
“‘There are far too many books in here for you to search alone. Even if you’d a thousand nights and could read all the languages they’re written in. And any day, you’re like to be sent off on another Hunt. So you’re thinking to yourself, If she’s already looking for word about daysdeath, she might keep one eye open for mention of this gift of mine?’
“‘… You’d do that? Why?’
“‘Perhaps I appreciate that you stepped to my defense in the stable that day. Perhaps your tale of your sister touched my black and withered little heart. Perhaps I just like those pretty grey eyes of yours.’
“‘Or perhaps you like the idea of me owing you favors? Like Kaveh and Keeper Logan and God knows who else?’
“Her lips curled into what was perhaps the first true smile she’d gifted me all night. ‘You know, privy-diving aside, you’re actually quite clever for a peasant boy.’
“I rolled my eyes again. ‘Why do I feel like I’m striking a bargain with the devil?’
“‘Oh, I’m twice as crafty as the devil, Gabriel de León. But we’ll not be striking anything lest you ask me nicely.’
“‘What does that even mean?’
“‘Say please, of course.’
“I looked at her there in the gloom, again struck with the feeling that Astrid Rennier was toying with me. Back in Lorson, a lingering look was all it took to win favor from most of the lasses in my village. But here in Astrid’s presence, I felt a particularly plump mouse bargaining with an especially hungry cat.
“But she spoke truth. This archive was too vast for me to search alone. And so, I got down on one knee. And I took her hand. And again, I brushed my lips against her knuckles.
“‘Please, Majesty.’
“‘Majesty?’ she scoffed.
“I shrugged. ‘You’re a fucking queen, remember?’
“She looked me in the eyes, her own glittering as she smiled.
“‘Oui. We shall get along famously.’”
Gabriel fell silent, refilling his drink. Lost in remembrance of an angel’s eyes, a devil’s smile. Despite the wine, the memory was sharp as broken glass. He feared he’d cut himself if he lingered in it too long. And yet he remained, holding tight as he could.
“De León?” Jean-François finally asked.
“We stayed up for hours,” he said, pale grey eyes coming back to focus. “Reading in silence. It’s strange how much you can learn about a person by just sitting together and shutting your fucking mouth. Astrid Rennier read swiftly, and in at least a dozen tongues. She sat straight-backed like a lady of breeding, swore like a taverneful of Ossian sailors, and chewed her fingernails like a girl with far too many secrets.
“As she warned, most of the forbidden section read like the rantings of moonstouched fanatics. But I knew this search might take months. And so, undeterred, perhaps an hour from dawn, Astrid Rennier and I said our farewells.
“‘Godmorrow, Initiate.’
“‘Will you be back again this eve, Sisternovice?’
“Astrid smiled. ‘That enchanted, are we?’
“‘I’ve a will to get to the bottom of this swift as I may.’
“She inclined her head. ‘I sneak out most nights for a smoke. If you think I’m bitchly now, you should see me after a few days without a pipe. I arrive around midnight. If you’ve a notion to meet again, might I suggest you climb through the roof on your return to Barracks? The tiles are old in this place. They come away easily.’
“‘Merci, Majesty.’ I bowed. ‘God go with you.’
“She curtseyed like a lady at court. ‘And you, Initiate.’
“With nothing else to say, we stole out the front door, which Astrid locked firmly behind us. I’d no ken where she’d got her keys, but I suspected she’d lie if I asked. The wind was freezing after the Library’s shelter, cutting through my coat like knives as we parted.
“Mornbells rang in the Cathedral belfry, rousing cooks to the kitchens, brothers to the breadbasket. I’d lingered longer than intended—I was supposed to report to the stables for my first date with a barrow and fucking shovel. I could see Logan by the sky platform, silhouetted by his chymical lantern. Cutting across the monastery, I approached as if from Barracks, hands in my leathers. The thin gatekeeper grunted greeting in his Ossway brogue.
“‘Fairdawn, young cub.’
“‘Godmorrow, good Keeper. I’m to report below to—’
“‘Aye, aye, Greyhand tol’ me all aboot it. Yer first ’unt sounded a dark one, laddie. Dead chil’ren and all. Bad business.’ The keeper spat on the winch and unlocked it, squinting at my swordarm. ‘Decided what ye’ll ’ave inked yet?’
“I shrugged, climbing aboard the sky platform. Skin tingling as I wondered if Astrid would again do the inkwork. ‘Almost.’
“‘Well, my congratulations, young’un. Not all survive the Trial of the ’unt. An’ you pay nae mind to what those other lads say behind yer back neither. Yer blood might be thin as watered Sūdhaemi cat’s piss, and yer stock might be sheep-rutting Nordish trash, but yer doin’ God’s work. When ye die, I’ll say a prayer o’er yer stone, sure and true.’
“‘… Merci, good Keeper.’
“‘Too right, laddie.’
“Logan gave a toothy grin and lowered me down. The valley was still shrouded in gloom and freezing mist, the platform alighting with a heavy thump. Kaspar and Kaveh would usually be at work already, but Greyhand had informed the grooms of my punishment as promised. A shovel and barrow sat in the snow before the stable gates, a note pinned to the unlit lantern within.
“GATE UNLOCKED. DOWN AFTER MORNMEAL. MERCI!—K & K
“Cursing beneath my breath, I hung the lantern from the barrow, and wheeled through the creaking gates. I spared a hello for Justice, giving him a long hug and one of the sugar cubes he loved so much.
“And spitting on my hands, I started shoveling shite.”