Page 61 of The Rebel and the Rose
The gates groaned open.
He stalked inside. ‘Fetch the provost,’ he demanded. ‘Have him meet us in the inner courtyard.’
The gatekeepers scurried off, leaving them to make their way down a stone path bordered by neatly pruned rose bushes. The cobbles led them right through the arched foreground of the Appoline, and onto the grassy quadranglewithin. Shadows prowled alongside Ransom, keeping pace with his steps. The others remained at his back, silently taking in the grandeur.
The Appoline was a palace all of its own. Towering ivy-clad walls made a perfect square four storeys high with wide gilded windows that looked out over the generous courtyard, welcoming the sunlight of each new day. History seeped from every stone, wept from every ancient willow they passed. They emerged at last into the central courtyard. The grass here was neatly shorn, bordered by rows of lavender and long-stemmed daisies. Wooden benches occupied the middle, where scholars had gathered to picnic, or to read in the late-afternoon sun. Some looked up as they approached, clocked the sea of shadows that moved with Ransom and fled, leaving their satchels and half-eaten sandwiches behind.
‘And you thoughtImade a scene at the marketplace,’ remarked Seraphine, plucking a book from the grass and idly thumbing through it. ‘You’re creating mass hysteria.’
Ransom glanced at her over his shoulder. ‘I’m nothing if not efficient.’
‘Just try not to kill the provost when he arrives.’
He pretended to mull it over. ‘Unless he’s rude to me.’
‘Not funny.’
‘What makes you think it was a joke?’ Caruso piped up.
‘Don’t talk to them, Sera,’ said Versini, under his breath. ‘They clearly get off on it.’
Faces gathered at the windows as frightened scholars cowered in their dorms, waiting for the big bad wolf to leave. Ransom hated how he envied them.
Wasn’t this power more intoxicating? Wasn’t he richer than all of them put together?
Then why do I feel so empty?
Caruso picked up an abandoned sandwich and devoured it. ‘These fuckers eat well,’ he said, licking mustard from his fingers. ‘Brain food, I suppose.’
‘They sure as hell pay enough money to come here.’ Nadia grabbed a discarded apple and practised aiming it at the nearest window. ‘This provost has three minutes to show his face, or I’m smashing something.’
Fortunately for the venerated university, the provost arrived in two, hurrying across the lawn in a long black robe and with a face like thunder. He was tall and as narrow as a rake, with a drawn pale face, a crop of wiry grey hair and a short grey beard.
Somewhat surprisingly, he didn’t look scared. Just completely incandescent.
‘Enough of this terror!’ he bellowed. ‘What brings you to these hallowed grounds? We have an accord with the Daggers!’
Ransom’s brows shot up. He hadn’t known that. Maybe brute force hadn’t been the best choice here. Leashing his shadows, he cleared his throat and said, ‘Calm yourself, Provost. We don’t mean any harm.’
‘Yet,’ added Caruso.
‘We won’t cause any trouble,’ said Versini, who had thegallto step in front of Ransom. Skirting those shadows as if, in his heightened state, Ransom wouldn’t flick one at him on a whim. ‘Thank you for coming here so promptly, Provost Ambrose, we really appreciate your time.’ He stuck his hand out.
What an insufferable, simpering—
‘A little decorum. Very good.’ The provost shook his hand, offering a flat smile. ‘Whatever this is about, I’m sure we can handle it like civilized adults.’
Despite the forced air of politeness, tension simmered.
Ransom cut to the chase. ‘We’re looking for Prince Andreas.’
The provost went paler still. ‘You seek to kill a prince of the realm?’
‘Not necessarily,’ he lied.
The provost took a measured step backwards. Looking between them, he said, ‘Andreas left us months ago. Not long after the unfortunate clock tower incident.’ He pointed past them, towards the north end of the square. They all turned, craning their necks as they took in the remains of what must have been the clock tower. The top half, including the clock face and the heavy brass bell, had been destroyed. The rest of the stone had caved in on itself, forming a mound of rubble atop the roof.
‘How on earth did he survive that fall?’ said Nadia.
