Page 52 of House of Lilith

The Tower seems to be completely deserted, the only sound being the faded flags flapping in the otherwise barely perceptible breeze. They’re all staying away from their offices today, as I believe I would if I were in their shoes.

When I find myself on the sixth floor landing and I stop in front of his door, for a second, I hesitate.

What if he’s in there? What am I going to tell him?

Hi Uncle, I’ve come to interrogate you about the murder that happened last night. Wondering if you had anything to do with it? Oh, is that a scone you have there? Mind if I help myself?

No, I tell myself. If he’s innocent, he probably won’t even be in. And if he’s not… Well, I don’t have to jumpstraightto the point, right?

So I force myself to knock.

Silence.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

And just as I’m about to move away from the door, I hear footsteps from the other side.

Fuck. I watch the door slowly open, but only enough to reveal my uncle’s pale, bony face and the anxiousness in his eyes.

“Morning, Uncle,” I say.

The anxiousness disappears as soon as he realizes it’s me. “Anastasya,” he whispers and then swings the door fully open, motioning for me to come in. “How good it is to see you.”

I walk inside, wasting no time in scanning his office. It’s just as silent and cramped as usual, like some medieval hermit’s. The centerpiece is the carved ebony desk, the only surface in the room that’s not completely covered in books and scrolls. Behind it, there’s a fireplace filled with ash, old and heavily used.

“Are you here for a consultation?” I hear Uncle ask and I make myself turn to face him.

“Not exactly,” I say as I lower myself in an armchair opposite the desk.

“Don’t tell me you and Nikolay are fighting again,” he says with a tired smile and sits in his regular chair, an oddly plain and uncomfortable one.

This makes my lips curl into a sad smile. I don’t know what he’s talking about because I’ve never come to complain to him about my brother. Maybe he’s remembering something from our childhood.

“Nikolay and I are fighting the same amount as usual, nothing to worry about.”

Now, that makes Uncle frown a little, as if he’s finally catching up on the fact this is no regular student or family visit.

“Uncle,” I start, forcing determination into my voice, “I’m here because of what happened last night.”

There it is again, the flash of anxiousness in his eyes. “Oh, you mean the murder,” he says flatly. He clears his throat, looking away for a second. “Don’t worry about it, my dear. As the Pied Piper said last night, the culprit has already been caught.”

I just look at him for a second. The Ludwig Schwarz thatIknow would be eager to gossip, just like his other niece, Hilde. “Um,” I stutter, but I quickly collect myself. “Sure, that’s what they’re saying. But I don’t know if it’s true. It just doesn’t hold up.”

And I lock eyes with him, not letting him look away.

He stays silent for a second. “Doesn’t hold up?” he finally echoes with a weak smile. He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands. “A vengeful Fiain comes to Grimm Academy with a plan to exact revenge. He does what he does, gets caught and ends up in jail. It seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“Yes, until you actually think about it, that is.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“A Fiain exacting revenge by pissing off creatures that would first hurt his own?”

“So?” he demands, leaning to rest his forearms on his desk. And his gaze is unwavering now, but his voice is not entirely flat when he says, “There are people in this world who would do a lot worse to get what they want.”

“I guess that’s true,” I concede. “But that doesn’t answer the most pressing question of all.”

“Which is?”

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