In Which Aldhein Has to Be Honest

March 23, 1177

Lorn snapped out of his slouch as if tied to some invisible string Aldhein had triggered. There was an art to feigned surprise and the young duke had yet to master it; if he had intended to appear busy, or at the very least that he wasn't actively waiting, he'd failed. But no matter. Frankly, after those painful few Geneva-medicated years of Roderick, Aldhein preferred his noblemen urgent and no-nonsense. "Your grace."

"Aldhein." Lorn flicked the corner of the letter in front of him. He'd probably finished it twenty minutes prior, but God forbid that a duke appear idle. "I've just received a letter from my cousin in Dovia."

"Oh?" Aldhein inquired, resisting the urge to ask which cousin. "Any news?"

"Apparently he's planning a visit some time within the next few months." Cringing, the duke pulled himself out of the chair and kicked it back into place. Oh--that cousin. "Lucky me. Anyway... you went over all those documents from the monastery."

"I did."

"And?"

Aldhein sighed. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" In spite of his insistence on the investigation, Lorn looked a little shocked. Not that Aldhein could blame him; there was something about that Brother Remiel that just wasn't right. "Nothing? He never even stole quills from the scriptorium or anything?"

"No." Aldhein rested his index finger on his wedding ring and spun it. He was a man who preferred one-word answers when possible. Curse their frequent ambiguity. "By 'nothing' I mean 'there is literally no mention of a Brother Remiel in any of the documents'."

"...what?"

The height of Lorn's eyebrow was almost impressive--as was the depth of his frown. Aldhein didn't think he had any need to be apologetic--he'd only read the damn things, after all--but he bowed his head anyway. "Although you might want to know that the monk who delivered them said they'd had a fire some decades back and a certain percentage of their archive was lost."

"Decades? Recently enough that Remiel might have been there?"

Aldhein shrugged. "How old do you suppose he is?"

"Assuming he wasn't some sort of theological prodigy? Not old enough to have been mentioned in documents destroyed 'decades' ago." His lower lip obscured by the upper, the duke tucked a rebellious lock behind his ear. "Maybe start looking around for possible replacements. For now, I'll station a guard in the chapel and I'll consult Lord Severin as to the logical next move."

For all servants were supposed to keep their mouths shut, Aldhein had to be honest here. "Sir, you had me at 'replacement'."

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