Page 90 of House of Lilith

“What is this I hear of yours and Max’s engagement?” she jumps straight to the point, the handwriting angrier than I’ve seen it in a long, long time. “It’s so absurd, I have to come to the conclusion itnever happened.” I can almost imagine her let out that passive aggressive little laugh of hers. “Isn’t that right, my dear? Whatever little spat you and your fiancethe princehad, I’m sure you’ll patch things up even before I see you at tonight’s dinner.”

I lower the hand with the note onto my thigh, fixing my eyes ahead. Fucking hell. Why did I ever think she’d simply make her peace with it? Have I learnednothing, I snarl at myself through gritted teeth.

But there’s a PS of course. There’s always a PS, I think as I lift the note to my eyes again.

“P.S. I’m worried about Ludwig. I didn’t expect much from him, but this? Losing a position no one has ever lost before? You should go visit him and see if there’s anything that can be done.”

It all makes me frown and go back to the bit where she talks about ‘losing a position no one has ever lost before’. Has Uncle been taken off the Guardian duty?

And it’s far from something I want to be doing right now, but it actually comes as a small mercy, me having to go investigate this. At least, that way, I can postpone thinking about Mother pushing me into getting back with Max. And I can take it as a way to distract myself from thinking about the dreaded today-at-five-PM.

*

When the door to Uncle’s office opens, it’s not him I find standing on the other side. It’s Nikolay, still looking a bit groggy from sleep. The moment he realizes it’s me, he throws me a warm smile, at the same time breathing a sigh of relief. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“It’s a bit early foryou, isn’t it?” I ask as I push past him. I’m still angry, and that can’t be made to disappear just because of another family emergency.

“Well, Uncle’s not well,” I hear him say just as I come to a stop before said Uncle’s desk and spot him splayed on the armchair beneath the window.

It makes me frown, the paleness of his skin. “Uncle,” I start, beginning to feel a little concerned.

When he doesn’t speak, I march over to him and I bend over, trying to catch his eye. When I do, for a second, he just stares at me vacantly. “They took it from me,” he says in a voice that’s barely above a whisper.

“They took what?” I demand, wanting to confirm what Mother told me.

“They fired him,” I hear Nikolay cut in and I stand straight, turning to look at him. He has his hands in his pockets and a serious look on his face. “They met today, decided he’s no longer fit to be Guardian, and they moved the Box to the dungeon, for the time being, at least.”

I frown. “Why would they do that?”

“It sure didn’t help when you reported him being in possession of the murdered professor’s journal,” he snaps.

And that’s not what I meant, but it rubs me the wrong way, what he said. “Yeah, and they’re reacting to that now,” I snap back, “meremonthslater.”

He lets out a scoff, but the anger quickly subsides. As fickle as usual, my brother darling, I think to myself.

He takes a step closer, turning his eyes onto Uncle. “It’s because of how he behaved last night. They’re suspecting him to be, you know…” As he meets my eye, he makes a gesture imitating a crazy person.

I wave my hand in dismissal. “I meant, why put the Box in the dungeon?”

“Allegedly,” he says, “whenever they’re replacing a Guardian like this, with no notice, they put it there to keep it from being tampered with. It’s when it’s in between Guardians that it’s at its most fragile.”

“I see,” I reply in a voice barely above a whisper. Sounds more serious than I thought it would. But then it occurs to me and my eyes dart back to my brother, fixing themselves there, squinting. “How do you know all this?”

He hesitates for a second. But then he takes a deep breath and says, “Max. He told me just before you, you know…”

“Yeah.”

“I tried texting him this morning, but…”

Now, that makes me take in a sharp breath. I give a couple of quick nods and I move for the door, rushing to get out of this office, out of this conversation and out of this situation in general.

“Wait,” Nikolay calls after me.

I stop, but only once I’m out the door. He follows me and closes it behind him. “Aren’t you going to do something?” he asks as he motions back at the office, at Uncle, that is.

“I don’t think Ishould,” I say, despite the image of Mother popping into my head. My brother frowns. “I’m sorry, Nikolay, but it sounds like they did the right thing by taking the Box from him. He’s not stable.”

“Is this about Max?” he demands, almost cutting me off. “You think I’m mad at you?”

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