“Cec, wait,” I say before he can close the door. “Now that you’ve so rudely awakened me, will you find Bes and take me to see your father. I have some questions for him.”
He bows his head. “I’ll come back to get you.”
He disappears without waiting for an answer and closes the door behind him, leaving me in the dark.
I fumble for a match, lighting the candle at my bedside as the amulet shifts against my chest. Before I get up, I grasp the amulet in my palm. The gold merely glimmers in the firelight, nothing more. No sensation of warmth. I still don’t think I’m imagining either of those things, but I hope to God that Ansaldo has some information on it. Maybe even the incantation that’ll activate it. This whole endeavor might not have gone to plan, but I’m not going to let it be a total loss.
I won’t let Ansaldo take anything else from me.
An hour later, I find myself in Ansaldo’s office, along with Bes and Cec.
But no Ansaldo.
After Cec left, I got dressed and began to decide which questions I need to ask, my anger at Ansaldo returning to clear some of the sleep clogging my mind. My main concerns remain the Amulet of Amun and Nonna. Some part of me knows I’m using the amulet as a distraction from thinking about my nonna, but I allow it.
Now, standing awkwardly inside Ansaldo’s office, I run my hands along my khaki pants tucked inside my mother’s boots,eyeing a loose string from one of the buttons on my white, long sleeve button-up. I hope I haven’t made a mistake by seeking him out. While there’s a chance I’m going to get what I ask for—answers about my family’s role in the order—there’s also a chance he’ll tie me to one of these chairs, bring in the tattoo tools, and force me to join the order right here, right now.
Even if he does agree to tell me what I want to know, I can’t be sure how much of what he divulges will be lies and how much of it will be the truth. Bes and Cec already proved themselves to be decent enough liars, and I have some idea of who they learned it from. However, I know from experience that the best lies hold a bit of the truth in them. Meaning I either need Ansaldo to tell me the truth or be a master at lying.
In his line of work, he’s unlikely to be a terrible liar, at the very least.
I glance at my watch, wondering how long it’s been, before remembering it’s still set to the wrong time.
Instead, I take in the walls, lit by large hanging oil lamps and embellished with gaudy medals and unusual keepsakes. A large, intricate tapestry takes up one entire wall, and a bookcase fills out most of the other. Pushed near the back of the room is an old wooden desk, piled high with neatly-organized papers. Beside the papers sits a wax kit and what I first think is another dagger, but upon closer inspection is too simple to be anything more than an ornate letter opener.
Nothing like the dagger he pricked me with yesterday.
“Anything I should know before Ansaldo graces us with his presence?” I ask them. “Like his greatest fear or favorite alcoholic beverage?”
“Failure and a negroni.” Cec sniffs. “But those won’t help you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, regarding him. “I like to know my enemy before I face them.”
Bes’s next words are thoughtful rather than accusatory. “After what he did, I can’t blame you for calling him your enemy.”
I recall what Cec told me this morning, about how Bes’s father died, how it made him the man he is today. And though my heart still bleeds for him, I can’t help thinking he doesn’t see his father figures as clearly as he should.
“After what he did, what else would you call him?” I argue, fighting to maintain my composure. “I believe he more than deserves the title.”
I square my shoulders, staring Bes straight in the eye. “I’ve known men like him all my life. I refuse to feel remorse for judging a person who holds so much power, whose entire persona is naturally holier-than-thou.”
Bes grins softly. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“My father…” Cec sighs. “Well, you already experienced some of what he’s capable of last night. You’re right to be wary of him.”
“You are,” Bes clarifies. “In fact, it’s best to consider everyone your enemy and let them earn your trust.”
His gaze lingers on me, and my body heats beneath his attention. I told Bes what feels like ages ago that he needed to gain my trust rather than the other way around. It took time but, now that he’s able to answer all my questions—and I understand the reason he lied about some of it in the first place—I do trust him. As much as it frightens me, I trust him with my life.
He surprises me by reaching out and taking my hand, which I now realize is tightened into a ball. Slowly, gently, he pulls on each finger until it’s no longer a fist. I breathe out unevenly at his touch; it both soothes my nerves and lights them on fire. I relax my muscles as he caresses the back of my hand with his thumb.
“However,” he continues, “we should find some time today to get you to the training room so you can take your anger and frustration out on a dummy.”
I smother a smile.I suppose him knowing me well isn’t so bad.
“There’s no need to call Cec names. He’s doing the best he can.”
Cec clutches at his heart. “You wound me, madam.”
