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“Multiple code violations in one day, Nothing.” His smug tone drills into my bones. “Not exactly the paragon of decorum, wouldn’t you agree?”
Glancing around, stretching my senses, I don’t hear another soul inside the tower. As he leans forward to inspect me, his hawkish nose is a direct line to his coal-like eyes.
“Yes,” he mutters quietly, smoke blooming from his breath. “No one can deny the Morrigan has marked you with a face like that.”
I track him as he strolls around me, examining me like a specimen in a jar.
“Have you naught to say regarding your flagrant disregard for the Old Code?”
“I’ve been busy.”
His eyes flash at my lack of proper address.
“Indeed, therein lies the conundrum.” He cants his head. “How serendipitous that your evening has opened after an attack at the gates monopolized the Knight Commander’s attention.”
“What?”
Voices outside elevate as people walk by, heading home for the evening.
“Hmm,” he continues, glancing toward the closed door. “Without a class to attend, I suppose now you’ll have to walk home with the rest of them. Public disgrace can hardly transpire when there is no public to bear witness, don’t you think?”
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
WILLOW
“My punishment is my Radiants’ responsibility,” I remind Ignarius. “It should wait for them.”
Not that I want that, either.
The Marquess steps further inside the shadowed room and waves his hand. One by one, each wall sconce ignites, illuminating the darkness. As if he owns this tower, he saunters around, wiping his finger to inspect for dust.
“Your superiors are also subject to the same laws of the code,” he explains. “Yet, lamentably, none appeared sufficiently invested to grace the registration desk with their presence when they were called. The matter has now been handed to the court’s official disciplinarian.”
There’s no way around this. I’ll have to face the consequences, as stupid as they are.
“And I suppose that’s you?”
He laughs. “I’m merely here to bear witness.”
Goodfellow? Someone else?
“I wonder which mode of torture he’ll decide to mete out?” His smarmy gaze drags down my body. “As is tradition, the penalty should mirror the offense. Disrespecting the uniformimplies you traverse the streets naked. However, the queen’s watchdog may harbor other, more imaginative propositions.”
The carved wooden doors open, and Emrys prowls in.
Feral magnetism wraps around his athletic physique. His pale hair is disheveled, and his black military coat is crumpled as though he’s come straight from a hard day’s work. Dried blood is caught beneath his fingernails. He is death and life personified, the taker and the giver, and when he looks at me, I forget to breathe.
The fumes of torture are his drug of choice. But he’s also my Radiant. Surely, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to treat me like work, not when it could affect my chances of winning this tournament. Bodin said they chose me because they wanted to win.
“Ah, naïve bloom.” Glee enters Ignarius’s eyes when he notes my confusion. “The Knight Inquisitor isn’t like everyone else. He cares little for the rules, just like you. Ironic if you think about it.”
Emrys’s lip twitches as he holds my gaze. I don’t know what he sees, but he rounds on Ignarius and crowds him against the wall.
“You dare drag me from work for this?” Shadows seem to follow Emrys wherever he goes. “I do not answer to you.”
A flash of dragon peers from Ignarius’s eyes as he gestures my way. “You have responsibilities, Inquisitor. She has repeated uniform violations and flagrantly disregarded the call to atone.”
