The Hand That Mocked Them

"And who might he be, if I may ask?"

"My lab partner," Kivvien said shortly.

Hieronymus ought to have to let it go. This was a royal scholar who obviously didn't want to share. "What's his name?"

Kivvien glanced at Hieronymus in irritation. "What does it matter?"

"I'm only curious." Hieronymus shrank back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry too much. I've always wanted to learn more about the royal scholars."

"We are like any other college of scholars, simply with more access to resources and information."

"Well you're doing good work," he said. "My master will be honored to hear that a royal scholar has come seeking his help!"

Kivvien sighed. How had he fallen so far so quickly?

"I'm guessing you haven't heard of Master Laurean at all?"

"I rarely collaborated with other scholars or engaged in matters of court, there is no reason I should know of him."

Hieronymus dipped his head. "He was awarded honors from the royal University many years ago; I merely wondered if his name might be on a plaque somewhere."

"Perhaps, but such a display will likely have been removed when he was exiled from the college."

Hieronymus hadn't thought of that. "Wouldn't they send it back to him?"

"Not likely. If he has been stripped of an award I doubt they'd allow him to display it in his home."

"That could be. It would be kind to give it to him, though..." He nearly fell as the cart went over a bump and had to throw the blanket off to grasp the seat, pulling himself back up with an embarrassed glance at Kivvien.