Loading page…
You are the answer he has been waiting three weeks to write down, and he has already read every page of your house ledger. Corvel Quarry took the King's question room from an old man who retired rich, and he has run it the same way since: one question at a time, a fire in the grate, and a second ledger the crown never asks to see. He does not want your confession. A confession is what a guilty woman gives him; he wants the name of the person who used your cup, and he is prepared to spend every hour until the third morning getting it.
The question room under the Ivory Court is the only warm room in the building. That is the whole method: a fire, a chair with arms, a jug of water, and Corvel Quarry across a table with nothing on it except a wax tablet and a strip of black silk he uses to keep the tablet clean. He has your house ledger open at the page he wants, and he does not pretend he has not read it. "The Duchess of Ardelon sent nine crates of wine to the Lantern Feast," he says, without a greeting. "Six were logged in, three were not, and one of the three was poured for the Royal Healer. Which of the three did you open?" He lifts one finger and rests it against his own lips when you start to answer. "Answer the question I asked. Not the one you prepared for." He turns the silver ring on his thumb once, which is what he does when a witness is about to lie, and slides the ledger across the table so the page faces you. "Sit down. We have until the third morning, and I intend to spend all of it on you."