Page 37 of Foresyth Conservatory
Damn. He was sharp.
“Well, you’re in luck. I’m feeling generous today. Besides, I can’t stand being falsely accused. Tell me, does Leone strike you as an honest man?”
I blinked, thrown by the question, but I gave it thought. “Yes, he does. He’s meticulous with the truth—always the first to correct inaccuracies, even on small points. He has a purist’s commitment to both thought and word.”
“Clever observations, as expected of a detective.”
I scowled, and he laughed—a surprisingly musical sound. “You know, in the right light, you’re quite striking, even with that scowl plastered on your face.”
“Is that your method? Insult, then compliment? Keep people yearning for your approval?”
“Oh, so you admit to yearning for my approval?” His smirk returned, smug and infuriating. My cheeks heated against my will.
“You think you’re good at hiding your emotions, reader. But you’re not the only one who reads people,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Now, back to Leone. Yes, he’s rigorous with the truth, which makes him a good scholar. But don’t you think the truth can be a bit dull? Sometimes a little embellishment adds color, makes things more interesting.”
“Is there a point to this, or are you just waxing poetic?”
“Oh, there is a point,” he replied smoothly. “Julian had a way of embellishing his work, weaving in stories and puzzles that made them fascinating. The Advisors loved it, even if it wasn’t strictly necessary or even factual. But Leone . . . well, he didn’t appreciate Julian’s creativity. They were both third year rivals, in every sense.”
“You’re suggesting that Leone killed Julian?”
“I’m not suggesting anything like that.” His eyes darkened. “I’m merely stating the facts: Leone and Julian were working on papers on the same topic—ancient Christian symbology. The Advisors, knowing about their rivalry, thought it would be fun to turn it into a competition. They’re always thirsty for a bit of academic blood. Whoever wrote the best paper would be awarded a week-long residency at Trinity College in Dublin, with full access to their magickal collection.”
God, that did sound like a dream for a scholar like Leone. But would he actually kill for it? He seemed the least likely suspect—as though he existed on a plane above the rest of them.
“Don’t let the fact that he’s crippled deter you from considering him—hypothetically, if you were investigating the case.”
“And hypothetically, why would you help me?”
“Oh, come on, reader. That’s obvious. I want to clear my name. I’m the best-suited candidate for the Advisor role, and I fully intend to secure it. The others will say whatever they need to make me look less than perfect.”
So, this was about some petty promotion Aspen was angling for? I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“And speaking of Advisors, let’s talk about Ms. Choi—your new friend. She’s not what she seems, either.”
“Let me guess, she’s trying to steal your precious Advisor role too?” I crossed my arms.
“Actually, no, not that I know of. She has her own schemes. I don’t know why she’d want Julian dead, but if he was poisoned, she’s the only one with access to the lab where all dangerous substances are stored.”
“That’s not true. You’restoredup here, and you’re ridiculous if you think I’d suspect my friend.” Nina was the first person who had shown me kindness here. She might have eccentric hobbies, but I owed her my gratitude. Still, her access to the lab might have been convenient for storing poisons . . .
Aspen grinned, pushing a strand of hair back from his face. “I’ll take that as a compliment—that you think I’m dangerous,” he said, moving closer.
“And exactly how do you know all these hidden motives and means?” I asked, barely masking my annoyance now.
A corner of his mouth inched upward. “The currency at Foresyth is secrets—it pays to know.” He rounded the chaise, heading toward the door. “Now that I’ve set the record straight, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”
A part of me didn’t want him to leave. As frustrating as he was, I still suspected him, and he was the only student who wouldn’t stop talking about the case. I wanted to ask him aboutThe Book of Skornand what Julian was doing with it when he died, but I couldn’t reveal my position as an investigator.
“Oh, one more thing, Dahlia.” He paused, his voice softer. It was the first time he’d called me by my name, not some condescending nickname. “After you figure out who bloodied the poor lad, I do hope you’ll stay at Foresyth. You might just save us all.”
What could he possibly mean by that—save us all?
But before I could respond, he slipped out and closed the door.
Left alone with my thoughts, my mind spun, my heart racing. Aspen knew I was investigating Julian’s death, and he was even more dangerous than I had realized. And now, I had more information—Leone as Julian’s rival, Nina with access to potential poisons in the lab. They could be red herrings, or they might be leads worth pursuing. Perhaps Aspen wanted me on a wild goose chase to divert suspicion from himself, giving him enough time to strike again before the semester ended.
But I couldn’t dismiss any possibility until the truth was clear. I’d need to dig deeper into both Leone and Nina and look beyond the surface. Not to mention, I needed to followup with the Meister and figure out why he was holding back information.
