Page 65 of Her Dark Reflection

‘Do not talk nonsense to me, paptich, you know I do not buy your honeyed barbs. The tension between the sanctum and the guild is obvious.’

There was a moment of silence as he eyed me, perhaps trying to guess at my intentions.

‘And why are you so interested in potential rivalries between the sanctum and the guild?’ he asked slowly.

I placed my hands on his desk, spreading my fingers wide over the cold, polished wood, then leaned forward. ‘If the council votes against granting me my rightful position as regent, Boccius will be the one who reigns instead. Princess Gwinellyn will be of age in only a few years, so perhaps it doesn’t matter terribly to you who is regent, but I suspect he could wreak plenty of damage in that time.’

‘And you believe you would do less damage?’ he sneered.

‘Surely, having someone who is, if not favourable, then at least neutral to your cause would be your preference. I would do less deliberate damage to your institution. For instance, your desire for the power of waiving the right to a trial for suspected witches. Lord Boccius would not only fail to support this cause, but I have knowledge that suggests he is aligned with Dovegni and would strip the sanctum of its position presiding over the courts altogether.’

His nostrils flared like a horse scenting a predator and I could almost imagine his eyes rolling back in fury. ‘Where would you have come across such interesting information?’ He attempted to keep his tone even, but I could hear the tension simmering beneath his words.

‘I have my sources.’

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘Without knowing the source of your information, I do not see how I can trust it.’

‘You’ll just have to take my word for it. Or don’t, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.’

We regarded each other in silence. I watched him chew over my words, tasting them for flavours of deception, for motive.

Finally, he said, ‘And I suppose you’re promising to further my cause? To grant the Sanctum the powers we seek?’

The soot stains before the palace gates flashed through my mind. Not for all the power and money in the three kingdoms would I do such a thing, but he didn’t need to know that. ‘I cannot make such a promise without first being briefed on the ramifications of the decision, but I can promise you a regent far more open to persuasion than Boccius. I have no secret alliance with the guild, and I have no interest in separating the sanctum from the law.’

He tapped the tips of his fingers against his lips, then dropped his hands, stood up, and bowed. ‘Thank you for this elucidating conversation, Your Royal Highness. I will take some time to consider your argument and perhaps try to verify the validity of your claims myself.’

‘I support you doing just that. I believe if you start to look closely, you will not fail to see the level of understanding between Boccius and Dovegni,’ I said as I rose to my feet. ‘Thank you for your time, Paptich Milton.’

I mulled over the conversation as I left Milton’s office. The sceptical old man would need some prodding to believe my claims, but I had expected that. It was the whole reason I had decided to meet with him the day prior to the council meeting.

When I returned to my rooms, Leela was waiting for me.

‘Did you intercept the messenger?’

‘Of course, ma’am.’ She handed me a missive, which I quickly scanned before throwing it into the fireplace.

‘Good. Any word from Princess Gwinellyn?’

‘No, ma’am.’

I sighed angrily. If she would only pull herself together and cast her vote, the outcome would be all but ensured. But if I couldn’t have her, then I would just have to proceed without her.

The following day’s council meeting was held early in the morning, as I’d requested. And the Grand Paptich was conspicuously absent. I caught Dovegni glancing at the empty chair as a vote was called on a budget alteration that would have granted the sanctum additional funds for renovations of the Grand Cathedral, and when the council voted to deny the request, he smirked.

We were several agenda items further along when the door clashed open, cutting Sherman short, and the Grand Paptich entered with a flick of his robe, his attendant hurrying before him to pull out his chair.

‘Paptich Milton, we were wondering where you were,’ I said mildly as he sat down.

‘You’re lucky I am here at all. I was not aware our meeting had been moved.’ His voice was tight with displeasure.

‘Oh? Lord Boccius, did you not inform the Grand Paptich of our schedule change?’

‘I sent a missive yesterday,’ Boccius replied. ‘Perhaps it became lost amongst the papers on your desk, Milton.’ He was all ease, lounging back in his chair, unresponsive to the glare being cast in his direction by the cantankerous priest. He might have been less relaxed if he’d known that his missive was a pile of ashes in my fireplace

‘Perhaps,’ Milton said, his eyes slitted. ‘But now that I am here, might we move on the budget alteration I proposed last meeting?’

‘Unfortunately, we have already voted on that matter. The alteration has been denied. We have moved on to matters of trade.’ Boccius nodded at Sherman, who once again launched into his droning lecture on the importance of the lentil trade with Creatia while Milton turned blotchy and red.

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