Page 178 of Insolence
Safeguarding the temple’s reputation.It’s an effort not to laugh in her face. “Of course.”
We both know she’ll send us with an impressive retinue of Temple Guardsmen equipped with rifles and dirks in addition to their precious little daggers.
“The caveat is Vivienne will accompany you as a sister chaperone. I know you two don’t get along. To be frank with you, Elodie, I don’t care if you rip each other’s throats out. Don’t cause a scene, and leave me out of it. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now”—her sly smile sends a queasy feeling through me—“getoutbefore I change my mind.”
Lydia’s gaze on me is palpable as I turn and leave.
Chapter 51
El
There isn’t time to second-guess myself.
I head straight to the Learning Annex, still trying to make sense of the fact that my old contact is here. Even worse,she’sthe gods-be-damned Screamer this whole time.
Maida keeps extra paper and a spare fountain pen in her lectern cabinet. After grabbing them, I swing into the larder. Emerge with two bottles of brandy.
I’m already waiting inside the compost shed when Lydia arrives, lugging a crate of mangled thistle lilies. The stench precedes her.
Her guardsman escort lags several paces behind. Loafing along, he looks like he’d rather be elsewhere. A sentiment I can wholeheartedly relate to.
I lift my head from the shadows. “Well. If it isn’t Lydia ‘the Screamer’ Catrionne.”
She stops, her expression betraying her. I can practically hear her thoughts:If it isn’t El Asher.
The guardsman finally ambles up behind her.
“Get lost,” I growl.
A slow man, both physically and in other departments, he gapes at me. “What gives? Er, your holiness.” Makes a clumsy bow.
I hold a bottle of brandy out to him. “Take this and scram.”
“Uh, ma'am”—he glances around—“she can’t leave my custody.”
Normally the “ma’am” wouldn’t rankle me so much. After dealing with Deirdre, it does. “And you can have herbackin a little while. But I need to borrow her for fifteen minutes.” I look past his shoulder. “You see the clock tower?”
His gaze follows mine, swinging to the 24-hour clock face. “Yeah?”
“You see how the big hand is pointing at the twelve right now?”
Lydia chokes out a snort.
“Er…” The bewildered guardsman blinks several times as if muddling through a trick question. “What about it?”
“Don’t come back until it’s pointing at eighteen, got it?”
“But Mother Deirdre said—”
“I know what she said. What’s your name, buddy?”
Eyes bright with glee, Lydia hefts her crate into the air. Dumps its putrid contents onto the compost heap.
“Colin, ma’am.” He scratches the back of his neck.
