In the center of the room sat an absurdly large desk, dominating the space.How did they even get that thing through the door?she wondered, eyeing the bulky monstrosity. Two plain wooden chairs were crammed in front of it, a stark contrast to the gilded imposition of a chair resting on the other side.
Then there was the portrait.
Vivienne’s lips parted slightly in disbelief. The painting leaned against the back wall, its oversized frame nearly reaching the ceiling, leaving little doubt as to who it depicted. A thin, almost skeletal man with a sharp nose, thin, dark mustache, and eyes that seemed far too beady for such a grandiose setting. It was as if the Chancellor had commissioned an artist to capture every ounce of his arrogance and enlarge it to an absurd degree.
"Be with you in a moment!" A high, reedy voice called from somewhere unseen.
Vivienne frowned.Where?—
A section of curtain twitched.
With a dramatic sweep, the fabric parted, and a strange man shuffled through.
The Chancellor was even smaller in person than in his exaggerated portrait. His thin frame was wrapped in layers of fabric, each more elaborate than the last, as though attempting to compensate for his lack of physical presence. His hair, faded gray and thinning at the crown, was pulled back tightly, slicked to his scalp with an unnatural sheen. The style only served to emphasize the sharp angles of his face, his widow’s peak exaggerated by whatever greasy concoction held it in place.
His lips stretched into something that might have been a smile, but the effect was unsettling against the backdrop of his oversized teeth.
His dark eyes flicked between Vivienne and Lewis. "Good afternoon," he said, his voice higher-pitched than she had expected. "I am Chancellor Montaghue."
Vivienne forced a polite nod. "Hello, I’m Vivienne Banner, and this is Lewis Blume."
"Nice to meet you, Chancellor," Lewis added.
"Quite." Montaghue shuffled toward his chair, shimmying around the absurdly large desk before settling into his throne-like seat.
Vivienne and Lewis took their places in the plain wooden chairs, careful not to bump the shelves nestled behind them. From this angle, the massive portrait seemed even more ridiculous, comically dwarfing the real Montaghue.
The Chancellor flipped through a massive ledger, running a spindly finger down the page. He barely looked up when he spoke again. "Banner," he mused before pausing in a way that felt too rehearsed. His face took on a mask of forced sympathy. "My deepest condolences for the loss of your parents. May they rest well in the Eternal Glade."
Vivienne’s teeth clenched.Not a loss.
"They're not gone," she said firmly. "That’s why I’m here. I’d like an audience with the King to discuss my parents and what needs to happen next."
Montaghue didn’t bother to acknowledge the request. "Your parents were Official Court Antiquaries, correct?"
"Yes," Vivienne responded, her eyes narrowing.
"Yet you remain only an apprentice at the Library of Metis?" Though phrased as a question, his tone was full of judgment.
Vivienne’s jaw tightened.Stay calm.She forced a smile, though it felt more like baring her teeth. "That’s correct."
Montaghue let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, flipping to another ledger, somehow even larger than the first. His lips pursed as he scanned the page, and then, with an air of detached bureaucracy, he said, "Not to worry, you’ll be given a full thirty days to relocate."
Vivienne’s brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
Lewis straightened. "What do you meanrelocate?"
Montaghue’s beady eyes darted between them as though confused by their reaction. "The house is owned by the Crown and designated as living quarters for official Crown specialists. As Miss Banner is only anapprentice," he enunciated with barely concealed disdain, "she cannot remain in the residence."
Vivienne and Lewis exchanged identical looks of stunned disbelief. Vivienne’s pulse thundered in her ears.My parents go missing, and you have the audacity to kick us out of our home?
Her fingers curled into her lap, wrinkling the purple linen of her dress as she fought the rising fury in her chest. "I’ve lived in that house my entire life. My cousin and I—You can’t?—"
"Oh yes," Montaghue interrupted with a dismissive wave of his bony hand. "Speaking of your cousin, Miss Briar Robertson, your parents named you as her legal guardian in the event of a prolonged absence or their passing."
The words slammed into her.Legal guardian.She barely registered the sharp intake of breath from Lewis beside her.I’m responsible for Briar. Not just today, not just until my parents return… but for the rest of my life.
Her anger warred with the shock, but anger won.
