Page 78 of Sanctifier

She was so caught up in her thoughts, wondering if Lord D’Luc had come to some harm, that Ru didn’t see the note at first. It lay on a side table near the fire, a neatly folded piece of parchment.

Ru,

I’ve gone to attend an early-morning godly duty, a breakfast for some Duke or another. I simply couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Did you know that you snore? It’s incredibly endearing.

Yours,

T—

Ru couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face, the warm ache in her chest. She wished he had woken her; she wanted more time with him, away from the rest of the world, alone and in bed.

Someone knocked on the servants’ door, putting an end to this fantasy. Ru frowned; Pearl had never once knocked before entering. Sliding the note into her bodice, Ru went to answer. She pressed the door gently, and it swung inward to reveal a coppery-haired fop carrying a large wooden case.

“Ah lovely, you're here,” said Simon. He pushed past her, all bright eyes and sky-high hair and colorful silks. Then he paused, giving her a searingly judgmental once-over. “Well… it’s not perfect, but as my sister and a denizen of the Cornelian Tower, I’m certain your sartorial state will be overlooked.” He grimaced slightly. “Though… really, Ru? Wool?”

She closed the door behind him, spinning on her brother with crossed arms. “How else am I supposed to stay warm?”

He sighed dramatically, waving a dismissive hand. “Fine, fine. I suppose there’s no accounting for taste, and we haven’t much time. Are you coming or not?”

“To what?”

“Yourparty, naturally. The one I sensed you might need right about now, considering you and your friends are being guarded by a veritable regiment of soldiers between you. Oh, and don’t tell anyone, but I heard Hugon D’Luc isunder the weather.” He smiled conspiratorially. “Think that means he’s dead? I’m taking bets at the party.”

Ru blinked, trying to catch up. “Where are my robes, by the way?”

Simon’s response was withering. “I’ll get you your robes, ungrateful sister. Patience. I’m a minstrel, not a sorcerer.” He paused then, giving her another once-over, his expression pained. “I beg of you, before we go, at least don a hat of some sort. I happen to know there’s a tricorne in your wardrobe that will match this drab woolen thing perfectly.”

Knowing there was no escape from her brother now, and honestly relieved for the distraction, Ru went to her wardrobe. After a moment, she uncovered a black velvet hat with an upturned brim and a dark purple plume.

“The one with thebuttons,” Simon protested.

Ru sighed, opened a series of drawers, and at last found a grey tricorne with gold button fastenings. She held it out for Simon to see.

“That’s the one,” he replied.

When the hat was pinned in place, Ru’s appearance was finally deemed appropriate.

“I’m fine, by the way,” she grumbled. “You don’t need to throw me a party.”

Simon sniffed. “Of course I do. You’re my sister. And we might all be dead in a matter of weeks, so why not enjoy our last days while we can?”

“How uplifting,” said Ru.

Winking in response, Simon opened the servant’s door and gestured for Ru to go first. In the distance, she could hear the clatter of what sounded like a tea tray being wheeled along.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Simon gushed, moving to walk alongside her. “One of Lady Bellenet’s many weaknesses is her upbringing. She hasn’t spared a single thought for the servants who inhabit these halls, and thus, not one of them has fallen under her control. They are loyal to the regent, and, by extension…” he waved a hand to indicate himself and Ru.

They continued, taking sudden turns and going up narrow stairs at odd intervals. Simon greeted every servant they passed with joviality. All of them smiled in return or shared a few words of greeting. Ru found herself in a small kind of awe of her brother. He cultivated allies with those others might overlook.

Then again, she supposed, that was his job. She and her brother tended to underestimate one another, to their detriment.

Ru remained silent for the rest of their walk, her steps keeping time with the lute case softly bouncing against Simon’s thighs. When at last they emerged into one of the palace’s main corridors, albeit a rather remote and disused one, Ru was winded from the speed of their walk.

“Just across the hall,” Simon said. “If anyone sees us, well… be quick.”

They darted across the hall and through an unassuming door on the other side without incident. Even so, Ru’s heart was hammering and sweat beaded her forehead.

“How do you live like this?” she hissed.

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