“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you’re willing to work with me,” Everard said as they sat down for tea in his drawing room. The house had the peculiar aspect of seeming much larger on the inside than it was on the outside, which was a relief, as Aurelie had worried she might feel claustrophobic in such a narrow building. “I admit, I was afraid you might not accept.”
“I haven’tfullydecided yet,” Aurelie said, taking a sip of tea froma fine porcelain teacup, though it was mismatched from its saucer, as was the cup Everard held. It looked almost like a miniature in his long fingers. “I have a few questions I wanted to ask in person.”
He swirled a silver spoon in the cup, though he hadn’t added any sugar or cream. In fact, Aurelie hadn’t seen him take a single sip, and she glanced down at her own tea with the same sense of unease she’d felt since she arrived. “I see,” Everard said.
“I’ve drafted some schematics on the interconnecting plates, and I think the needed pattern has to do with the runes themselves...” She broke off as Everard raised his free hand.
“No need to go into the details, Miss Blake.You’rethe inventor, after all.”
Aurelie flushed, at once pleased and embarrassed. Did she really have the right to be called an inventor? She was nothing compared to the great minds of the past who had created clocks and steam engines and all the miraculous innovations of bygone centuries. Aurelie’s crowning achievement was a small lift operated by a pulley that allowed her to send supplies up an old chimney shaft to the upper floor of the university, which she called the Load Lightener. Of course, she could only use it at night when no one else would discover it, but she found it quite useful and had no doubt others would as well, if she were ever allowed to share it.
Still, it wasn’t exactly the stuff revolutions were built on.
“Simply tell me what supplies you’ll need, and they’ll be sent to the university at your convenience.” Everard sat back in his chair, watching Aurelie with his unnerving pale eyes. “You know, it’s a shame you weren’t born one hundred years ago. I have no doubt you’d have changed the world.”
Something in Aurelie’s chest clenched. Something dangerously close to her heart. She’d never had her own feelings mirrored back to her so directly in her entire life. Smiling, she picked up her teacup again and took a slow sip. “Well, who knows,” she said. “I might yet.”
Everard smiled back. “I believe you just might.”
Blushing, Aurelie let her eyes take in the rest of the sitting room. There were shelves on either side of the lit fireplace, holding dozens of old books with well-placed curiosities and objets d’art interspersed among them. Above the mantel was a large oil painting, a still life of a bouquet of colorful tulips and peonies, studded with insects so realistic Aurelie felt they might crawl right off the edge of the ornate gold frame. In an unseen hallway, she heard the click of a dog’s nails as it trotted across the wooden floors. It was all rather cozier than she would have given Everard credit for.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked, because the silence had stretched on far too long and she could still feel Everard’s eyes on her.
“Oh, ages,” he said, crossing one long leg over the other. “Sometimes it feels like it’s been a century.”
She nodded for lack of anything else to say. After another uncomfortable lull, she cleared her throat. “Pardon my bluntness, but what exactly will this portal do?” She’d been afraid to ask, partly because she was afraid of Everard’s reaction, but also because she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Do, Miss Blake?”
“Portals have to opensomething, to leadsomewhere. Don’t they?” She hated how her voice grew weaker with every word under the weight of his cold gaze.
His lips curled as he tapped a finger against his chin. “Tell me, Miss Blake. Why do you create?”
Aurelie once again felt as though this were some kind of trap, though she couldn’t imagine what it would be. If he wanted to arrest her for illegal activity, this seemed an awfully convoluted way of doing it. “I feel it’s what I was made for,” she said. “It’s my life’s purpose.”
“Do you believe every person has a purpose, then?”
“Of course I do.” Uncle Leo’s purpose was to help others learn. A farmer’s was to feed people. The Iron Guard existed to protect them. “Everyone needs to beuseful, surely.”
“I agree,” Everard said. “And I believe my purpose is to help facilitate change. I know that’s not what our king wants, or even very many of our citizens. But since I was born, it’s been a calling. I may lack the imagination of people like you, but I have the means. This is howIcan be useful, Aurelie.”
“But what do you plan to do, exactly?” Thewhatmattered as much as thehow. All Everard had given her were vague assurances, and Aurelie was a scientist: she could never be satisfied with incomplete data.
He sighed and rose, strolling to his bookshelf. “If there was a great conspiracy in this kingdom, would you want to know?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Of course,” Aurelie said.
“Even if that knowledge created a terrible upheaval in our society?”
She blinked and sat back. She didn’t put much stock in conspiracy theories, and while she wanted progress, she wasn’t sure“terrible upheaval” was what she had in mind. “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.
He turned to face her, a book in his hands, a slight frown on his lips. “Then perhaps I underestimated you. I thought we had similar worldviews. I thought we both valued the truth.”
“I do value the truth,” she said, a spark of indignation burning in her chest. “But if that knowledge hurts a lot of people...”
“So you only value truth when it’s convenient. I see.” He shook his head, clearly disappointed in her. “I was afraid going to someone so young was a mistake.”
Aurelie’s cheeks burned. “I don’t think this is a matter of age,” she managed.