“I thought he was neat and tidy,” Julian says from the open doorway.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I mean…it’s a locked palace. There are only so many places you could be.”
I harrumph, but he’s correct. It’s how I found this room.
Julian walks in and glances around at the knocked-over shelves and floating feathers.
“Still think it was an accidental drowning?” I ask.
“Maybe he had an episode of some sort,” Julian says.
I shoot Julian an unamused look as he plays with a paperweight. “Are you going to compromise this scene, too?”
He sighs, eyes praying to the ceiling. “Are we going to go over this again? At the time, I thought it was a simple accident. I believed we should get Antinous’s body out of the water so you could confirm it. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Why did you volunteer to serve as Senate Clerk?” I ask.
I study him, but he’s not thrown by my sudden change in topic. Either he expected the question or he’s used to the way I interrogate people.
He shrugs, his air casual. “To be helpful. There’s no one else who can do it. Kerasea, maybe, but they already have her serving as the deadlock vote.”
Hearing her name reminds me of the lapis sitting in my pocket. It didn’t appear that her robe was missing any stones, so where did it come from?
Julian takes a step forward, crushing some papers under his boot. I frown. I still need to inventory those.
“Torren, stop. I can almost feel you digging your own grave as soon as her name is mentioned. Leave her be.”
“You seemed awfully close to her at dinner last night.”
I can’t hide the bitterness in my tone. It’s double jealousy. He’s my closest friend, and even if she’s not a suspect, I’ve hated her for a dozen years. There shouldn’t be a relationship between them.
His smile fades as he stands straighter. “Are we really going to do this?”
“You’ve been dead set against my investigating her from the start. Is there a reason for that?”
Julian shoves his hands in his pockets. “Because you don’t have permission to breakunexorum. These people are dangerous—her included. Not because she’s a murderer—I don’t think either of us really believes that she killed these men. But if she ever realizes how much power she has, she will be a danger to the republic. With Verhardt dead, the senators are trying to court her for her blessing because the Faith follows her like a dog at heel—nobility and commoner alike—with more fervor than they did for her father. You and I both know there are issues with the republic, and it never takes much for holy rule to spread its roots. But most importantly, you are up for reappointment. You have to tread carefully, or you are going to get yourself censured—or worse.”
“So you’re not trying to bed her?” I ask.
He lets his head fall back, his hands balling into fists and the lump in his throat bobbing. “Did you hear a word I said?”
“That’s not a denial.” I ignore the tightness in my chest and continue to catalog the papers. Ledgers of the Senate expenses, missives from the frontier, and demands from emissaries from Arthago are all mingled together. Strange this was left behind. Why not take it all and burn it?
“You’re obsessed, Tor,” Julian says. “You have been obsessed with the Vestals since I’ve known you, but this thing now with Kerasea is something else. Is it because you can’t have her?”
I straighten to my full height as he brings up the real, unspoken difference between us. Julian is a noble from the Southside, the same as Kerasea. He is free to court whomever he pleases, including someone like her, whereas I could not. But he has never rubbed it in my face.
Not until now.
“Say that again.”
He drops his shoulders slightly. “This is madness. I’m not going to stand here and fight with you when I’m trying to protect you. You are letting whatever it is you feel about the High Priestess cloud your judgment. And this is a terrible time to lose objectivity.”
“I am not.”
He takes a step closer to me. “You are, and I can prove it.”
