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Remi pounds a fist on the table. “I have earned the right to manage my own time! I’m not at anyone’s beck and call anymore!”
“You are if someone is paying your wages!” I shout back.
“Silence, both of you,” says the architect in a low voice. Both Remi and I retreat and face Magister Thomas contritely.
“Remi, you are correct that your time is now your own. Afteryears of hard work, you are entitled to take a day or two to celebrate your achievements. You should be proud of them.”
Remi smirks. I want to stick my tongue out at him, but until he started with his ridiculous accusations, I hadn’t really cared that he was late coming back. Sun knows he could use a little loosening up.
“But.” Magister Thomas pauses sternly. “Your advancement doesn’t give you any right to tell Catrin what to do or with whom she may associate. She ismyassistant, not yours, and you will apologize for that disgusting insinuation.”
It’s my turn to smirk. Remi sinks into his shoulders and mumbles what almost sounds like “I’m sorry” into his food.
The architect isn’t finished, though. “Moreover, you will not speak about her in such a manner to others. If I hear any rumors I can trace back to you, you will never work in Collis again. Not even shoveling ox manure.”
Remi’s ears turn redder than wine. Mistress la Fontaine clenches her jaw as tightly as the spoon in her fist and turns away to set the now-empty pot aside. I doubt the housekeeper would want to stay if her son left, so that’s a double threat.
Magister Thomas focuses back on me. “Cat, I agree that perhaps today’s assistance was necessary, but what more good can you do now?”
What he’s really asking is if I remember his warning from earlier, but he doesn’t know what I do about the missing hammer.
“Simon thinks there will be more murders like this one,” I answer.
Remi snorts, but I can’t tell if it’s because of the venatre’s opinion or because I referred to him by name.
“He also says Perrete may not have even been the killer’s first victim.”
The architect raises an eyebrow. “And how does ‘Simon’ know this?” Apparently he isn’t comfortable with my familiar address.
“He knows what the killer was thinking and feeling and why he did those things to her body,” I insist. “I don’t understand how, but he knows.”
“Maybe because he did it,” Remi mutters.
“The venatre needs maps of the city,” I say. “And I promised him some of your older ones. Lady Juliane and Lambert Montcuir are also helping him.” With tomorrow as evidence, I add, “He wouldn’t need me every day.”
The architect sighs and gazes down at his plate. “You, too, have worked very hard, especially these past few weeks, and deserve free time. As long as your assigned inspections are performed, you may assist the venatre. Perrete deserves justice, and if we can help, we should.”
I nod eagerly, but Magister Thomas isn’t finished. “One additional condition: you must resume your weekly visits with Mother Agnes. She doesn’t have much time left Under the Sun, and whatever has made you angry with her must be put aside. She deserves it after all she’s done for you.”
“Yes, Magister,” I agree humbly. “Thank you.”
He nods approvingly and turns to Remi. “Now, Remone, please tell me more about your new vault design.”
Nothing cheers Remi up like being able to talk about ceilings. I listen with only one ear as I eat.
Much as I hated the idea, I’d already resolved to visit the prioress tomorrow. Few people are as widely traveled as Mother Agnes. If anyone can tell me about Simon’s home of Mesanus, it’s her.
