Chapter Nine – The North Tower
"That was quite tactless of you."
It took an effort not to look startled at the sound of Ali's voice coming from behind him. Lawrence was well aware of how focused he could become at times when something was on his mind. In this case, sneaking into the North Tower and evading both Anton and Abelard so he could explore Lukas's room took up his entire mental space.
Even so, he knew exactly what Ali meant by that. They were in the garden – Lawrence, because he hoped that was a neutral-enough spot from where to let his steps take him in the required direction at the right time; Ali, for reasons only he knew.
Or maybe Ali was his watcher. If Anton had meant him when warning Lawrence during the fencing lesson, it wouldn't be that farfetched a theory. Though Anton had no reason to help an outsider. Could it be that he knew why Lawrence was at their academy? But the von Kellers wouldn't be so reckless as to reveal their plan to someone on the inside. The fact that Lukas's room used to be in the same tower as Anton's and Abelard's wasn't a surprise. Hopefully, the closeness between the families carrying the aristocratic 'von' stopped there. They wouldn't jeopardize the investigation they put into motion by being indiscreet.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm talking about?" Ali rested his back against one of the statues representing the Lovers and crossed his ankles and his arms. He either pretended to be very judgmental or he truly was.
Lawrence pushed his fists hard into the pockets of his uniform blazer. He'd gotten used to the lightness of the air and its coldness, too. Most of the time, he saw no reason why he should wear a coat.
"I know what you're talking about," he said gloomily. Yes, it was all good while he focused on his investigation, but once someone interrupted his train of thought, he was back feeling bad for making Bastien remember his grief.
"So, what are you going to do?" Ali gave him a slow once-over as if he were trying to figure out something impossible to explain.
"About what?"
Ali tsked in disbelief. "You just said you knew what I was talking about."
"I'm not going to do anything. Norris gave me a good beating. His Majesty's Royal Court should be satisfied with the suffering I endured at his hands. My arm hurts even now." Lawrence shrugged one shoulder. He wasn't lying about that.
"Come on, Larry," Ali drawled, as if he was trying to coax him into admitting that he'd been wrong.
A muscle twitched in Lawrence's cheek. "Don't call me that. Abelard took care of tainting it forever."
Ali laughed. "Yeah. He's a slimy asshole."
Lawrence nodded, not wanting to invite gossip and more conversation. If Ali was his secret watcher – or not so secret – then he wouldn't leave him alone. That was fine by him. After all, if he ended up sneaking to explore Lukas's room at night, it was for the better. Even a dog like Abelard needed sleep, and seeing how they all needed to be up at the crack of dawn, surely they slept like little angels all through the night.
That reminded him of something. "What's up with you and Esperanza?"
"We're friends," Ali said matter-of-factly.
The same way Bastien was friends with her? Or in a different way?
"Don't tell me that you got it into your head that us lords shouldn't talk with the help more than needed," Ali goaded him into saying more.
"I'm a little surprised. Bastien is also friends with her. She must be friends with everyone."
"No, not at all," Ali said. "Espe is pretty damn selective. For instance, she can't stand Abe, either."
"Really?" Lawrence grimaced. "I wonder why."
"We grew up together, more or less," Ali said.
Lawrence, who'd been tapping his foot impatiently and only noticed it now, stopped. "Who?" He needed to curb the enthusiasm of the investigator inside him, but it was hard not to ask direct questions when such revelations were being made without him needling for them.
"My dear brother and I, Bastien, Espe," Ali recited.
Interesting. Ali as a spy made perfect sense. He was Bastien's childhood friend.
"Isn't it weird that Esperanza is working here while you guys are studying?" Unless Esperanza had always been part of the personnel, one way or the other, even as a child, through her parents.
"Who says she isn't studying here, just like us?"
Lawrence checked Ali's face for any signs that his watcher was pulling his leg and came back empty.
"For starters, this is an all-male academy."
Ali gave him a disappointed look.
"Well, I must point out the obvious," Lawrence insisted. "Seeing what sticklers for rules the people here are, I doubt they'd make an exception for her. Even if she's friends with you and Bastien."
Though powerful people always got their way. Wasn't that the way of the world, after all? Only earlier today, when Bastien had stormed out of the fencing hall, Maestro Alvarez hadn't insisted on calling him to order.
He stared at Ali, his mind quickly connecting the dots, now that he'd been forced to take a break from finding a way to reach Lukas's room. "She's Alvarez's daughter, isn't she?"
"Niece, actually," Ali corrected him. "Good police work, Larry."
Lawrence stifled an unpleasant jolt before he ended up showing Ali his surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked with a snort.
"Your year at the police academy," Ali pointed out, unfazed.
Of course. He needed to be less paranoid, so he could focus only on what mattered. He nodded briefly. "Has everyone read my file?" he asked. "Anton seems to know an awful lot about me."
Ali cocked his head to one side, his smile turning a bit forced. "What do you think? Some of the students here have more power than even the professors. And the powers that be."
"Anton being one?" Lawrence asked. "Damn, I guess I know how to pick my battles. He hates my guts."
Ali shrugged. "You caught his king's eye. That's not easy to swallow. With Lukas gone, he thought he'd manage to breathe freely for a bit. And then you appear."
Lawrence weighed his words before speaking. "Was Lukas Bastien's right hand before?"
Ali had a pretty face, but he could surely make some faces. Right now, he looked like a perverted old man while he made a vulgar jerking motion with one hand. "If by Bastien's right hand, you mean the one that handled the royal baton, yes."
Lawrence scoffed and looked away. "You're making fun of me. That's definitely not true."
"It is," Ali insisted. "Ask anyone."
Lawrence had the gumption to give Ali a mortified look. "Absolutely not. Awesome conversation starter, don't you think?"
Ali pushed himself away from the statue he'd been leaning against and then turned in order to place his hand over the statue's visible endowments. "You'll be with us for the whole year, Sleeper. That means you can't remain so ignorant forever. Be thankful for having me as your precious guide. Also, I will continue to call you Larry, even if you don't like it, because seriously, you look like no one has ever spoiled you in your life."
This time, Lawrence couldn't be bothered to hide his surprise. "What gives?" he said, with a short snort, after getting his bearings back.
"You're so serious all the time. It's like you were never a child."
Lawrence had no idea that simple words could hurt like this. And out of the blue. He couldn't recall caring about such things. Like with Bastien and the ridiculous attraction toward him, this display of perspicacity from Ali left him speechless and wide open in places he thought didn't even have an opening.
"I have a certain educational background," he said in a crisp voice he barely recognized as his. "It's natural for me to act a certain way. Don't call me Larry," he added quickly.
"It's not up to you. No wonder Bastien wants to spoil you rotten, too."
Lawrence kept his face turned away from Ali. The people here had a knack for rattling him, and it wasn't pleasant. Also, he needed to focus on his investigation, and since Ali seemed so keen on feeding him information, why not take advantage of it?
"They were boyfriends? Bastien and Lukas?"
"Now you're interested," Ali said with satisfaction. "Yes, real boyfriends. Seriously, they were so shameless."
Investigating Lukas's old room would remain a night task, then. Gossiping with Ali was about to bear fruit.
"What do you mean? This school has you eating books from dawn till dusk," Lawrence said. "And when it's not doing that, it's throwing you into the arena with lions. Who the heck has time for anything else?"
Ali snickered. "You've seen nothing yet, trust me. Get ready for some proper fighting, Larry."
"What do you mean? Besides fencing, what other stuff is there?"
"Later." Ali waved a hand to dismiss Lawrence's question. "Lukas and Bastien, they were so in love." He drawled the last word, showing his opinion on the matter without being asked. Lawrence decided he would keep an open mind.
"No wonder Bastien is upset," he said.
"Upset?" Ali snorted. "He's devastated. But he can't help himself, and no one can do it for him, because no matter who he'd choose, the others would make a big thing out of it."
Lawrence tipped his head back and examined Ali with his eyes half-closed to show his suspicions about whatever his friend here was trying to tell him. "Everyone loves him," he said matter-of-factly. "He doesn't lack affection."
"Yeah, like loyalty and veneration and whatever else," Ali said.
"You're not loyal to him, and as for veneration--"
"I'm not one of his sycophants," Ali said cuttingly.
So, there was at least some regret over not being included in the Golden Circle. How was one admitted into their ranks? Had Ali fallen short while his brother passed whatever test they used for selection?
"Anyway," Ali added, "you came along. And our king's lovely behind is quivering in exalted expectation."
"You--" Lawrence grimaced. "That's an exaggeration."
"He'll have you," Ali said with finality. "There is no one who can resist him."
"Maybe I can. Maybe I'm not… so inclined," Lawrence said.
"A big luscious 'maybe' there, Larry. Actually two of them," Ali pointed out.
"Why would he do that?" Lawrence continued. With Ali, he needed to pick what questions were more important so he could get answers.
"He needs to forget. Of course, that's impossible, but you're a shiny new distraction and, like a big chocolate cake, you won't come with regrets until later. Yeah, don't give me that look. You're delicious, and everyone knows it."
Lawrence didn't know if his headache was related to breathing the rarefied air without being completely used to it, or Ali's words were just too much for him to handle.
"Why do you think they're so wary of you?" Ali continued.
"The Golden Circle?"
"They're the only ones that matter."
"Anton really doesn't strike me as the type to indulge in such--" All right, it was quite difficult to find his words, given the ludicrous nature of the conversation. "Or Abelard."
"I can see why you'd say that about His Dark Eminence, since he's giving off such cold vibes, but trust me, he'd jump at the opportunity. Sure, he'd be more excited over the possibilities that come with becoming the king's official bed warmer. For him, it's all politics. He'd put these gorgeous nuts in his mouth," Ali said, smacking his palm over the unfortunate statue's private parts, "if he thought that would grant him eternal power."
Lawrence sighed. Yes, without a doubt, talking to Ali had to be one of the causes of his headache. "What about the others? They can't all be--"
"A bit peculiar?" Ali grinned. "Oh, yes, yes, they are. Let's see. Abe, the damn dog, would drool if given the king's pinkie to suck on. Norris is a big dog, different from Abe, because he's a noble breed, and he's a poor miserable soul that believes staunch loyalty will bring him happiness. A monastic knight, if you please, sworn to service his lord and master forever."
That, indeed, explained some things, and Lawrence admitted to himself that he had noticed that about Norris, too.
"Eldric loves only his books, but if he were called to serve, he wouldn't hesitate. Only he's smart and knows he doesn't have the required looks to capture the king's attention. Therefore, he doesn't even bother his big head with any of it. Vivien is such an empty head that he thinks playing my role will earn him points with our Princeps. He's the kind to take the fun out of things. He'd perform the most perverted acts but without understanding or feeling the excitement of shame and concealment, hence turning it all into a very dull affair."
Lawrence waited for a moment. "What about your brother?"
Ali grimaced like he'd just been forced to swallow a bitter lemon. "You caught me there. Felix is like me at least in this regard. He's an aesthete, not a performer."
Asking for details wasn't an option. Lawrence smacked his knees with his palms and got up from the bench on which he'd been sitting until now. "It's getting late," he said. "Thanks for the heads-up. About Bastien and all. What do you think I should do?" Since Ali had showed his interest in providing him with information, Lawrence believed it was only polite to show deference by asking for his new friend's opinion.
"Make sure to go deep and hard," Ali said promptly. "He's royalty, so he won't be satisfied that easily. I'm sure you can handle it. Him. His royal bum."
"Sorry, what?" Lawrence blinked. "Ali!" he exclaimed. "I only wanted to know if I should apologize to Bastien."
Ali snickered. What Esperanza had said about him being a little devil was easily confirmed by his behavior.
It only occurred to Lawrence then that maybe, just maybe, Ali had nimbly guided the conversation away from his childhood friend earlier.
Ali was more than an easygoing fellow who specialized in truancy. That meant Lawrence needed to be careful around him.
"It's not important. Bastien likes you, Larry," Ali eventually said. "So do whatever you want. Just don't be too disappointed after he uses and dumps you, okay?"
The aesthete appeared to have something against the uncrowned king of Veridien, and it seemed bitter and personal. Lawrence tucked away the detail for later perusal.
Just as he was about to leave, Lawrence turned to face Ali one last time. "If you don't mind my asking, do you happen to know who left Lukas's fencing mask for me to find?"
Ali betrayed no sign of surprise. His face remained expressionless for precisely two beats. "You're the spy, Sleeper. Figure it out." Then his lips quirked into a smile. "I'll always do my best to help you."
And he was back to being his friendliest self. Lawrence didn't care much about buying it; but at least the people around here weren't treating him as if he were stupid. Which in itself could become an inconvenience if he wasn't careful.
***
Veridien wasn't a bank or a gold vault, but Lawrence had taken note of the metal box with its impassible eye fixed on the passersby at the main entrance. Marius Vassier had warned him that the academy had been working on getting a surveillance system since last year – a tardy measure that, supposedly, had nothing and everything to do with Lukas's death at the same time. However, the same source had informed him that little had been done. Curiously enough, Veridien wasn't keen on wasting money although it was the wealthiest education institution in the country. There were at least two things Veridien preferred not to spend cold, hard cash on: cameras and heaters in the common areas.
That suited Lawrence just fine – fewer problems made his job easier. He blew warm air into his cupped hands before preparing to cross the courtyard. The North Tower loomed against the moon behind it. Of all nights, this one had to be cloudless. In case someone stopped him, Lawrence would serve his prepared lie: he couldn't sleep and decided to roam the grounds, since the picturesque surroundings seemed so keen on inviting meditation and eventually – and hopefully – sleep, as well.
The textured grip of his tactical flashlight felt solid underneath his fingers. His hand wrapped tightly around it, pressing it deep inside the pocket of his light jacket. Lawrence looked around slowly, taking his time to observe any movement in the shadows. The cold air, trapped between the tall buildings seeped into his bones through the thin fabric of his clothes. But he couldn't afford to wear a heavy coat while trying to steal across the courtyard in search of answers – or any mementos Lukas might have left behind.
Marius Vassier had been right to buy those boots for him, though. Their rubber soles made little noise on the gravel pathway leading to the North Tower. Lawrence was more aware of the sound of his own breathing than anything else. In his ears, his inhalation and exhalation boomed at alarming levels.
He had too little experience doing fieldwork; that was his problem. The weight of his task hung heavily on his shoulders now, making him understand why his uncle hadn't been keen on the entire operation. But, like Lawrence, he was also curious to see what might come out of it. But the chance of failure was present and impossible to ignore.
The key to taking steps in any investigation was to focus on the task at hand for the time being. Whether Lukas's empty room held answers or not remained to be determined.
He was in. The door to the North Tower opened with a soft whine, making Lawrence stop dead in his tracks for a moment. But that was all. No one else heard it. Still, caution remained the name of the game.
The outside light allowed Lawrence to glimpse a spiral staircase that waited at the end of a narrow hallway, one that served as a transition space and nothing more. There were no statues here, and no electric wall torches. Indeed, the academy was skimping on certain luxuries, indicating, perhaps, that its students should understand that privilege wasn't given, but earned.
Lawrence didn't want to risk detection by turning on his flashlight just yet. He used it only to bring his surroundings into focus momentarily, then he began finding his way in the dark.
The spiral was tight, tighter even than the one leading to his monk cell. Rector Reichenau had warned him about ostracism, but exile seemed to be the fate of the academy's finest if he were to judge by the austerity of the place. There were twelve dorm rooms here, Lawrence recalled. Only eleven were occupied now, and of their occupants, he needed to be most aware of his scent being caught by two.
Had Anton been close to Lukas? According to Ali, His Dark Eminence was a politician at heart, so it would've been in his utmost interest to cozy up to the king's concubine. Ah, after only a few days spent here, Lawrence was starting to think like the locals. But wasn't that a good thing? A spy needed to blend in.
Narrow vertical slits cut in the outer wall above allowed the moonlight in, making Lawrence's advance easier. This part of the castle was old; more than once, Lawrence felt his fingers brushing over damp stone, and the smell of moss was present everywhere, although faint and beaten down by the artificial scents of cleaning products. A shiver moved down his spine as the chilly autumn air snuck through the openings above.
Finally, he reached the landing. It wouldn't do to try door handles randomly, but if his life experience had taught him something, it was that every institution, no matter its profile, had a pecking order.
Anton had to have the best room on the floor, and that had to be the one best protected from the rough winds that never left Veridien year round. Slowly, he moved along the corridor, careful not to make a sound. A solitary bird wailed outside, the echoes of its trill fading quickly.
Risks had to be taken. He leaned against the door at the end of the corridor and waited with bated breath. A soft snore reached him, so he moved along. The next seemed quiet for a while, but then the sounds of someone tossing and turning assured him that it had its inhabitant inside, as well.
The next room was silent. Lawrence waited for a while and then proceeded to the next. If he were to listen to his gut instinct and gut instinct alone, he'd walk right into the one that seemed unoccupied. Since he didn't believe in such things, he needed to verify all the others before taking the next step.
A sliver of light appeared from underneath the threshold of the room he suspected of belonging to Anton. Lawrence froze; in two steps, he was in front of the quiet room, his hand on the door handle, praying to all that was holy that he wasn't wrong.
The handle gave. He was inside, just as the sound of a cough reached him. With infinite care and caution, he closed the door behind him and rested his back against it. His heart was in his throat. Well, he had known it wouldn't be easy. Preferably, he wouldn't be found and thrown out before he had a chance to investigate Lukas's murder and identify the culprit.
He waited until his heart regained its steady rhythm. With the flashlight pointed across the room, he turned it on. Its focused beam wouldn't draw the attention of anyone who happened to be outside.
Not that anyone was. The hallway was silent now, everyone on the floor deep in sleep. Unless the person who coughed earlier was still awake.
Lawrence chased the thought away. He needed to work fast and search Lukas's room with utmost efficiency.
What his flashlight revealed was shocking enough. Albeit Lukas's room was larger than his monk cell, it barely qualified as having much more in terms of amenities. Everything was efficient, utilitarian. That only meant he'd have few places to look for possible hidden treasures.
He wouldn't waste time with the large armoire, he decided. Most likely, Lukas's family had removed all of their son's clothes and other belongings. Quickly, he only felt the bottom after opening its double doors, and the structure held.
Was this only a wild goose chase triggered by wearing Lukas's mask today? It could very well be, and he'd only have himself to blame if he got caught so early in his mission.
Lawrence had to push away such thoughts for a second time tonight. The wood paneling covering the stone walls – his choice for a hiding place among others – was intact. Next, he looked under the sink, sneaking one hand through the small door and feeling the pipes around. Nothing there, either.
At least, he'd gotten some physical exercise snuck in before sleep, not that he needed any, especially after his fencing lesson today.
Lukas's bed was a four-poster, which meant that some luxuries were permitted for the wealthy heirs studying here. Lawrence had a strange thought, to plop himself down on the bed and imagine being Lukas for a bit.
Why shouldn't he? He'd just be careful not to leave any signs of his passing behind.
The bed had been stripped of any linen, so the mattress was bare. Lawrence lay on his back and opened his arms wide, letting them rest at his sides.
Had Bastien used to come here? Ali's words about Lukas and the Sun King being lovers came to mind.
He wouldn't think of such useless things. They were relevant to the investigation, yes, but he wouldn't let his personal feelings get in the way.
Lukas had been a handsome fellow. Lawrence had seen enough pictures of him to understand why Bastien would choose him from his cohort of admirers. It must have been that way: Lukas courting the Sun King assiduously until finally being accepted.
A certain picture of Lukas was stuck in Lawrence's brain. He was on the grass, outside, not here at Veridien, but in a place with more sun and fewer rules, and he was smiling. It was the kind of picture newspapers liked to show to tug on the heartstrings of their readers. Even the grainy definition of the photo imprinted on industrial paper couldn't detract from the essence of Lukas von Keller.
He was smiling, a bit arrogant, a bit too full of himself. His green eyes were narrowed with mischief, but not with ill intent. That was a young man expecting to receive the world on a silver platter. The loose shirt and pants covered but didn't hide his strong, harmonious body. Full lips, hair in his eyes, all the carefree attitude that comes with youth taken for granted.
Lawrence envied Lukas. Startled by his own conclusion, he propped himself up on his elbows. Truly, he needed to stop behaving so abhorrently and focus on the investigation. He rolled on one side, grabbing the edge of the mattress to lift himself up.
He jerked his hand away in an instant and barely stifled a cry of surprise. Feeling blood on his index finger confirmed that something must have pricked his skin. The torch's focused beam revealed a needle in the side of the mattress. And a drop of blood that had be Lawrence's by how freshly red it looked.
Lawrence didn't curse. Instead, he began to explore the seam slowly. The needle couldn't be there by accident.
And it wasn't. There was a crude stitching following the seam, easy to go unnoticed because of the white thread matching the mattress cover. Lawrence began pulling at the thread. It wouldn't give in easily, but that didn't put him off. He snapped open his Swiss knife and cut through it.
Once the thread was completely removed, Lawrence pushed his fingers into the opening. It was large enough to contain—
A slim notebook. Lawrence couldn't be quick enough to remove it from its hiding place.
TBC