A Change of Heart

Saturday March 6, 1490

The next morning I was at the Acropolis banging on Thoren's door right at the crack of dawn. I had words for him. Even if he hadn't personally brought charges against Ynez, even if he himself hadn't pressed for her ostracism, he was still the Primus of House Bonisagus and as such bore ultimate responsibility for his subordinates' actions. Through his silence, he condoned Leona's tactics and lent implicit support to her attack, and that was unacceptable.

An unsuspecting Thoren opened his door and greeted me with a genuine smile, saying in a surprisingly cheerful voice, "Marina! Good, you're here on time." And did he think Astera had never taught me to read a clock? His reference to my past tardiness did nothing to appease me. "Let's get to the matter at hand, and then I think we'll have some time afterwards to — "

He deserved no greeting. I shouldered my way past him and stomped into his workroom, not even waiting for him to close the door before I enunciated icily, "Yes. 'The matter at hand.' By all means, let's talk about the matter at hand — how your Secunda tried to get my Secunda ostracized despite mitigating circumstances. And now — "

Thoren had his back to me as he shut the door very securely and bolted it, but I heard him sigh and saw him run a hand through his hair, and a small corner of my mind marveled that he hadn't lost his temper yet. Submissiveness was not a trait commonly associated with Thoren bani Bonisagus. But he approached me cautiously and pointed out with preternatural calm, "Marina, you know very well that Athenians don't care about mitigating circumstances in murder trials."

"Yes, but she didn't have to call the Areopagus! And now we're indebted to Zoe! A hundred thousand drachmas? How could you let Leona do that to us?"

"I wasn't at all involved," he observed. "I wasn't even aware of her plans. I spent the entire day working with a team to stabilize the Aegis." It must have gone well, if he were in such a peaceful mood. "And anyway, now the Inquisition is one hundred thousand drachmas poorer. Isn't that a good thing?"

"No! They have too much money to care! And now we're indebted to them, and that's not going to be good for anyone!"

He sighed again, bit back his instinctive reaction (probably to order me to stop acting like a petulant child), and reached out for me instead. I backed away mutinously, and he let his hand drop. "All right, Marina, I'll speak to Leona and have her run such things by me first in the future. Is that acceptable?"

I sighed too. Although I was still angry, it wasn't fair to scapegoat him — and, more to the point, it was unsatisfying to fight with someone who refused to fight back. I could always find Leona and scream at her later. "Yes, that is acceptable," I acquiesced grudgingly.

"Good. Then have a seat, and tell me what you observed of the Quaesitor's seraph yesterday. It should have been a prime — " he smirked at the pun on the non-Hermetic name for the Sphere, and I groaned and rolled my eyes — "opportunity to practice Ars Vis."

For the lesson, he had me run through what I had sensed magically in the church and at the Areopagus — which was woefully little, and not just because I'd been distracted by impending disaster — and then explained with marvellous patience how I could have sharpened my Ars Vis scan and what I should have focused on. He did lecture me on how mages needed to be able to regulate their emotions and concentrate on their magic even under dire conditions, but his heart wasn't in the scolding. Maybe the purple, blue, green, and yellow bruises around my neck, which were as colorful as Zoe's dresses, and the way I kept pressing my fingers to my temples convinced him of mitigating circumstances.

"Well," he said at last, shoving his chair back from his desk, "that's enough Ars Vis for today, and fortunately I still have some time before my next meeting. My bedchamber is just through that door. Shall we?" And he held out his hand to me.