Page 42 of The Nightshade God
Alie scampered behind. “There are hundreds of storerooms in the Citadel,” she whispered. “You’ll have to be specific about which one you mean to search.”
“Whichever one the King was using to keep the art pieces he was selling before Apollius took over.” Despite her quiet words, Lilia seemed to know exactly where she was going, and she walked with such purpose that the bloodcoat by the door didn’t give them a second glance. Lilia waited to continue until they were outsideon the green, bathed in morning sun. “I intercepted a letter that mentioned specific instructions to notify the King on arrival, and for the parcel indicated to go directly into storage without being opened. The letter mentioned the specific room.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Did some paperwork for the postmaster—he wasn’t picky about employment history, barely even asked my name. He didn’t keep letters in a particularly safe place.”
“And you think this parcel was the Fount piece?” It was plausible. If the piece had previously been kept away from the Citadel, Apollius might want to bring it closer.
“I don’t know what else it might be.” Lilia fell in behind Alie as they approached the Citadel doors, sparing only a glance for the shredded rose in the hinges. “It’s the only lead we have.”
“Seems to be a pattern,” Alie muttered. “Keep your head down. If anyone asks, you’re my new chambermaid.”
The storerooms of the Citadel were a warren beneath the structure, much like the sealed prophecy rooms under the Church, and mostly used for things deemed too valuable to be kept within the Wall. Back in the summer, when Bastian was still Bastian and she didn’t have any trace of magic, Alie had helped catalog some of the art pieces he’d wanted sold, grouping them all in one of the few rooms that was previously empty. According to Lilia’s stolen mail, that’s where this shipment was headed.
She turned left after they crossed the foyer, down one of the smaller, less-used hallways. Servants used these corridors around the edges of the Citadel far more often than the nobles did. Alie relaxed a bit, sure that they wouldn’t run into anyone.
So when she saw Olivier, it was a bit of a shock.
It’d been ages since she’d seen her old friend. His sister Cecelia’s sickness had worsened, and she’d gone back to their family’s holdings in the countryside. Olivier had planned to go with her, but then their father had passed, and since their mother had beendead a long while, it fell to Olivier to fulfill their obligations at court.
None of which entailed wandering through the back passageways, as far as Alie knew.
She froze when she saw him coming, her hand instinctively snapping backward to stop Lilia. The other woman walked into it with a huff of air, loud enough to make Olivier look up from the floor. “Alienor?”
Her smile felt painted on, painfully false. “Olivier! How are you?”
“Fine,” he said, an inane answer for an inane question, when she knew perfectly well it was a lie. His eyes were tired, shadows deep around the sockets. “Didn’t expect to run into anyone back here.”
Alie almost said she’d expected the same, but didn’t want to make it seem like she was hiding something. Her false smile widened. She probably looked mad. “It’s nice to find somewhere quiet,” she said, continuing her inanity.
Behind her, Lilia stood close by the wall, head down. For Olivier, who was used to seeing servants as sentient furniture, she was as good as invisible.
“Indeed,” he said softly. He raked his hair back, huffed a small laugh. “I find myself walking back here often, looking for somewhere quiet. I’ve found it, certainly, but I can’t bring myself to stop moving.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t have enough scaffolding, and it fell from his face half formed. “So I walk.”
“I’m thinking of Cecelia,” Alie said. “She’s… she’s in my prayers.”
Lilia shifted on her feet.
Olivier didn’t pick up on the hesitation. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. His fingers worried at something on his chest—a gold pendant. An Apollius medal. Most noble children received one upon their Consecration, but Alie hardly ever saw one worn.“She’ll be healed. I’m sure of it. Apollius will wipe away her sickness, all in His good time.”
He smiled at the god’s name, wide and beatific. He spoke with such conviction.
Alie smiled back, though she couldn’t quite smooth the line between her brows. She’d never known Olivier to be pious. “I certainly hope so.”
“I know so.” He rubbed at the necklace again. “He always takes care of His most faithful. He always fulfills His promises.”
“Of course.” Her smile went strained.
With a nod, Olivier continued down the hall, still holding his pendant.
“Your prayers?” Lilia murmured when he was gone.
“I didn’t know what else to say,” Alie answered, not looking at the other woman.
A beat of quiet. “I understand,” Lilia said.
They walked on in silence, finally reaching the stairs that led underground to the Church storerooms. At the bottom, long hallways lined in numbered doors, gilt-painted, because of course they were.
