They had far worse to be concerned about, really.
Ward kept his word, leading them from the tavern without complaint. It was far more tame during the daylight hours, the ruckus replaced with the lonely sound of a mop sopping the wooden floors. After zigzagging their way through the district filled with places just as shabby as The Brooding Turnip, from teetering inns to rotting shops, Ward led them in a direction Jin didn’t often frequent: near the academies of White Roaring. The paved walkways were empty here, the schools closed due to the unrest and fear teeming in every shadow. It was a stark contrast to the tavern last night. In many ways.
Was the Ram truly planning to unleash a veritable army of half vampires onto the streets while the rich were safe with her? What did she stand to gain from killing innocents, other than stoking more fear into the very heart of White Roaring?
At last, Ward stopped at a turreted building. It looked like someone’s house, not where one would find the Council in charge of electing and discharging a monarch over Ettenia.
“Through there,” Ward said. “Be prepared to hand over your calling card.”
Jin tightened his fingers around the coin in his pocket.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Flick asked.
Ward tipped his hat, turned, and left.
“Helpful fellow,” Jin remarked, and he, Matteo, and Flick walked up the wide steps to the arched door, which opened to the face of a woman as dark-skinned as Flick.
“May I assist you?” the woman asked.
She was wearing a housedress, and the place looked evenmorelike a home inside.
Still, Jin held out his coin, and the woman’s face changed, features rearranging fromWelcome to my house where I’ve just made fresh tea!toFill out these forms and I’ll take you to the vault.
She looked from the coin to Jin with a furrow of her brow, then at Matteo and Flick. “Where did you get this?”
She was as surprised as Ward had been, and Jin wondered how few of the coins had truly been made.
“An… old friend of the Council’s,” Jin said.
The womanhmmed but asked no other questions. She took the coin and invited them inside, and Jin held himself still as a piece of his father disappeared into her pocket.
This had better be worth it.
As the woman led them farther into the house, Jin noticed the pieces that made the house homely slowly disappear. The fresh flowers, the blankets, the cozy armchairs. It turned more stately, more distinguished, until the woman stopped before a grand set of doors.
The three of them paused when she swung the doors open and gestured them through. It was as if they’d stepped into a different building altogether. The walls were a washed gray stone. The floors matched, echoing every footstep and sound. Fluted columns rose high to an arching hallway that widened to a domed ceiling looming over a spacious atrium quite like the kind one would find in a university.
At the center was a round table in which seven people sat.
Each of them wore a mask. One of them was still securing it behind their head.
They were gilded, shimmering in antique bronze. Unlike the monarch’s, their masks weren’t animalistic, but darker. Faces thatlooked eerie, almost. Beside him, Flick made a sound. They set down their work and fell silent at Jin’s approach, Matteo and Flick on his heels.
There were stacks and stacks of paper, ink staining the tables, books lined along the floor. Jin, like many in Ettenia, knew very little about the Council. They appointed monarchs and discharged them, but they did more than that too. They reviewed laws before they were put into action; they monitored the happenings across Ettenia.
“Thank you, Clara,” one of them said.
She bowed her head and left without another word.
“State your business,” said the mask in the center.
Well, that was a warm welcome. This was already off to a splendid start.
Jin had rehearsed his words, but that didn’t stop the rush of uncertainty as they stared at him with cold eyes. He had one shot to convince them, one chance. If he failed, Flick might attempt to forge a mask, but he’d seen how gingerly she held her hands, how difficult it was to hold anything.
Arthie was counting on him. His dead parents were too.Everyonewas.
“My name is Jin Casimir,” he began, and the murmurs were instant. “You may know my sister and me from the tearoom that we once ran, Spindrift.”