The Confectioner's Truth

by Claire Luana

  “I take it you’re familiar with ice wine?” Captain Ambrose asked as he set down his own untouched glass on the table between them. Yes, she was familiar with ice wine. The Vintner’s Guild’s infused concoction acted as a truth serum, turning any lie to the taste of raw sewage on your tongue. She had experienced it only once before, when she had literally fallen into Guildmaster Chandler’s secret meeting, and the man had demanded the truth behind her presence. It would wear off in a day, but that would do her little good right now.

  Ambrose grabbed a slice of bread and a hunk of bronze cheese, popping both into this mouth. “We knew taking Maradis would be worth it for the food alone,” he said around his mouthful. “But I’m still pleasantly surprised.”

  “I’m so glad,” Wren retorted before realizing her mistake. Her lie soured in her mouth, the taste causing her stomach to lurch for the ceiling. “My name is Wren,” she said quickly, relaxing as the flavor of the wine transformed into something like white chocolate raspberry.

  “You’ll have to watch that clever wit,” Ambrose said. “The wine doesn’t do sarcasm.”

  “Why is this necessary?” Wren asked. “I would have...” She trailed off. She was about to say, I would have told you everything I know. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

  “Thank you for illustrating exactly why it’s necessary. Are you sure I can’t interest you in something to eat?” He sliced off another wedge of cheese.

  “My stomach is a bit off today. Please just ask me your questions,” Wren said wearily.

  “Very well. We know that you are a Gifted guild member. What is your gift?”

  Wen cocked her head, examining him. How did the Apricans know so much? In the end, she supposed it didn’t matter how they had found out about her or about the Gifted. It only mattered that they knew. “Good luck.”

  “Please name the other Gifted members of your Guild.”

  It felt wrong to lay bare their secrets after trying so long to keep them hidden. But she had little choice. “Thom, Callidus, Hale, me.”

  “Do you know the identities of any Gifted in other Guilds?”

  Wren hesitated, her mind searching for a way out. Clearly, they’d already known about the Gifted in her Guild; they’d all been summoned here. Except Hale, that is, and he was working for them. But she didn’t know what they knew about the other guild members. She didn’t want to betray anyone—to doom them to this same fate.

  “If it helps, your Guild is the last to be questioned. I doubt you will out anyone we don’t know about.”

  Wren sighed. “The heads of the Brewer’s, Cheesemonger’s, Spicer’s, and Distiller’s Guilds. Patrick Imbris.”

  “Patrick Imbris. Yes. You are dating his older brother, Lucas Imbris, correct?”

  “Were dating.”

  “It ended?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Are you still considered to be dating if your boyfriend fled for his life to avoid being brutally murdered by hostile invaders, and you may never see him again?”

  Ambrose scratched his beard. “If you didn’t break up before he fled, I think so.”

  “Then I guess we’re still dating,” Wren retorted.

  Ambrose let out a little laugh. “Where is Lucas Imbris?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ambrose frowned and leaned back in his chair.

  She glared at him, some of her fire rekindling. He clearly thought she’d be the key to finding Lucas. Not today, Captain. For once, they’d thought ahead. Lucas was safe. For now.

  Abruptly, Ambrose stood. “Thank you for your candor, Miss Confectioner. There’s only one more item to attend to, and then you’re free to go.”

  “And that is...”

  “An oath of loyalty to Emperor Evander.”

  Wren’s mouth went dry. She licked her lips. She didn’t want to swear loyalty to that man. “Is it optional?” she asked with little hope.

  Ambrose pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, turning it over in his manicured fingers. “Despite our reputation, the Apricans do not maim or harm needlessly. Emperor Evander is not a cruel man. We desire to partner with the Guilds—to work together towards a glorious future for Maradis and a unified Aprican empire. But before we feel comfortable allowing you to return to your Guildhall, we must be sure of your loyalty. The oath is a small thing, but it is considered mandatory.”

  “A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” The unified Aprican empire. His words made her skin crawl. She sighed, holding out her hand for the piece of paper. Wren scanned the words, taking them in, letting them marinate deep into her soul. She couldn’t lie to Ambrose. But could she say these words and mean them?

  I [name] do hereby swear and affirm that I am loyal to the Empire of Aprica and Emperor Evander and all his successors. I solemnly swear I will take no action and speak no seditious word that harms or knowingly compromises the interests of the Empire.

  “Any day now, Miss Confectioner,” Ambrose said, crossing the room to pace the stretch of carpet behind her couch. His nearness unsettled her, but no more than the thought of taking the oath. But it wasn’t the oath that troubled her. It was the realization that she could say the words...and mean them. She could speak these words as truth. Wren was tired of fighting. Of struggling and failing, of battling powerful men and watching her friends die for the trouble. She wasn’t a warrior or a revolutionary or even a politician. She was a confectioner. And she was weary and ragged with sorrow over Sable. And Virgil. And Lucas’s disappearance and Hale’s betrayal and everything else. The Apricans could have Maradis. They could have her. She didn’t have the strength left to fight.

  And so Wren recited the words, the taste of white chocolate raspberry mingling with the salt of her tears.

  Wren sat patiently on a bench in the palace antechamber, her hands folded in her lap. It was another twenty minutes before Thom came out and an hour before Callidus emerged.

  They walked in silence through the front palace doors towards the waiting carriage, none apparently willing to be the first to share what had happened. What they had done.

  Wren was stepping into the carriage when a familiar voice called her name. “Wren!”

  She turned to find Guildmaster Chandler, grandfatherly head of the Distiller’s Guild, hurrying their way, a short rotund woman at his side. Her hair was streaked with white and gray. Wren recognized her as the head of the Baker’s Guild.

  “Guildmaster.” Chandler nodded at Callidus, extending his hand to shake. “Wren, Thom, you know Guildmaster Beatrix?”

  Wren nodded, pulling her cloak tighter about her, burying her cold fingers in the woolen fabric.

  “Hello,” Thom said politely.

  “Did you just come from your loyalty meetings?” Chandler asked.

  A black cloud crossed Callidus’s pale visage. “Indeed.”

  “I thought we went last,” Thom said. “What are you doing here?”

  “One of my guild members, Liam, never returned from his meeting,” Guildmaster Beatrix said. “We’re here to demand his release.”

  “Would he not swear loyalty?” Callidus’s thick brow furrowed into one.

  “He’s meek as a kitten. He would have done anything they said. The emperor kept him. And I want to know why.”

  “Anything the Apricans want, we don’t want them to have,” Chandler said blackly.

  Callidus’s pale hand flew to his chest in mock surprise. “Why, Guildmaster, that sounds like a seditious word to me.”

  Chandler grunted in dark laughter. “The Confectioner Guild’s stood with us before. We need you to stand with us again. Beatrix and I have talked to the other guildmasters and we’re all in agreement. Well, except Pike. I can’t find him, but I’m assuming he’s up for a fight. If the ten Aperative Guilds stand together, we just might have enough sway to push back against the emperor’s demands.”

  Beatrix nodded. “We should have been with you when you wanted to free the Gifted kidnapped by King Imbris. We won’t make that mista
ke again. By standing aside, we ended up in a worse mess. They’ve got tails on us. They pretend like they’d trust us if we took their stupid oath, but it’s a lie.”

  Wren’s eyes widened. Apricans were tailing the guild members?

  The Baker’s Guildmaster continued. “No more. Together, we’ll show Emperor Evander that he can’t just take what he wants from us.”

  Callidus was nodding, a gleam of excitement heating the ice-blue of his eyes. “They may have our city, but they can’t have our lives. The Confectioner’s Guild is with you. To the end.”

  Thom cast a look of tense excitement at Wren, but she found she couldn’t return it. Warning bells rang loudly in her mind. She had heard talk like this before, had been the one whispering it herself. It was the kind of talk that changed the tide of lives—of nations. And it was the type of talk that would get them all killed.

  Chapter 5

  Olivia stomped through the halls of the Guildhall, her turquoise skirt swishing about her. She’d finally convinced the comptroller to give her a look at the Guild’s books, and what she’d seen was atrocious. Callidus hadn’t collected rents on use of the Guild’s artesian wells for the past two weeks. The Guild depended on that income—how did Callidus expect her to keep them all fed if he couldn’t be bothered to collect their debts? “Fool man,” she muttered, thundering down the stairs from the top floor. His office had been empty. Where was he? “Probably hiding in some kitchen,” Olivia said under her breath, striding into the hallway that housed the teaching kitchens. “After I’m done with him, he’ll wish he had a place to hide.”

  Olivia poked her head into two dark kitchens before she found one that was occupied. Lennon and Marina were within.

  Olivia stifled a grimace at the sight of Marina. She didn’t mind Lennon, but she and Marina had never gotten along. Seated on a stool, the girl was bent over a bowl, whisking furiously. Lennon was standing in the corner, his shirtsleeves rolled up, a canvas apron tied tightly around his narrow waist. His dark hair was mussed, his kind features sallow. But his fatigue seemed to melt away when he saw her paused in the doorway. “Olivia!” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Looking for Callidus,” she said. “Have you seen him?”

  Marina turned. Her dark brown tresses were pulled into a high bun with a few wisps escaping, her dark-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose. “I saw Callidus, Wren, and Thom skulk off a few hours ago. I guess they were summoned to the palace,” Marina said coolly. “No doubt they’re on some new secret mission, leaving the rest of us to mind the shop without them.”

  Summoned to the palace? Why? Olivia walked over, examining what was on Lennon’s tray.

  “Coconut patties,” he explained.

  Marina rolled her eyes. “I told him no one likes coconut, but he couldn’t be dissuaded.”

  “I think they smell heavenly.” Olivia laid a kind hand on his arm, trying to soothe the sting of Marina’s comment. “And I like coconut.”

  “What’re you making, Marina?” Olivia then asked, trying to be nice. It was like pulling teeth, but her grandaunt had taught her to be polite. Olivia’s thoughts stuttered like they always did when she hit a memory of her Grandaunt Iris Greer. The woman who’d betrayed them all and murdered her own twin brother. Olivia clearly needed to find a new role model.

  “Rosewater meringues,” Marine replied to Olivia’s question. “And I better be done soon because I think my arm is about to fall off.”

  “Do you know anything else about this summons? What do the Apricans want with Callidus?” Olivia asked.

  Marina narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you mean what do they want with Wren and Thom? I’m so sick of those three galivanting about like the rules don’t apply to them.”

  Olivia was starting to agree, though Marina’s evaluation did seem a tad harsh. “Thom had been kidnapped. They were trying to rescue him.”

  “My father’s been missing for two weeks. No one’s lifted a flaming finger to find him,” Marina snapped. “I asked Callidus to find out if the Apricans were holding him, but all I got was a non-committal ‘I’ll try.’” Marina said the last words with vicious mockery. “It’s like if you’re not in their special circle, they can’t be bothered to care.”

  Olivia pursed her lips, wishing Marina’s words didn’t strike so close to home. Wren and Thom were supposed to be her friends, but lately they’d felt like strangers to her. She didn’t even understand what had happened with Hale, not to mention poor Sable. It was like she’d woken one day and her home had been turned upside down, filled instead with murderers and mysteries and tragedy.

  “They’ll find your father,” Lennon soothed Marina. “I’m sure Callidus is doing everything he can. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.”

  “Absolutely,” Olivia murmured in agreement. Lennon met Olivia’s eyes, and she saw doubt there that mirrored her own. Before the city fell, Marina’s father Beckett had thrown his lot in with King Imbris. And supporters of the late King Imbris...weren’t faring well under the new regime.

  Suddenly, Olivia needed to be gone from this place. She had troubles of her own without taking on Marina’s. “If you see Callidus, will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

  “Will do.” Lennon nodded at her.

  Olivia hurried into the hallway, turning on a whim into the conservatory. Its humid warmth washed over her, thawing the sudden chill that had just come upon her. Olivia took a steadying breath. This Guildhall had always been her home, but lately, it felt like foreign territory. The whole city felt strange and new. Dangerous. She’d thought she had friends, allies, but those seemed to have disappeared too. Wren was like a ghost, a phantom version of herself lost in her own private sorrows. Olivia sighed. Alone or not, Olivia needed to find her footing in this new world—and fast. Or she had a sinking feeling she’d end up like poor Guildmaster Beckett. Vanished without a trace.

  Silence hung between Wren, Thom, and Callidus as the carriage shuddered to motion and pulled them back towards the thick of the city.

  “What happened in your meetings?” Thom finally said, breaking the silence like an egg into custard. “Did you...drink anything?” Thom asked.

  “Ice wine,” Callidus said. “Nasty stuff. I refused and was gently told that refusing was not an option.”

  Wren pursed her lips. No need to share that she had fallen for it. “They wanted to know about the other Gifted,” Wren said. “And about Lucas and Trick.”

  “Same,” Thom said. “And they want us to cooperate with the Aprican confectioners and share knowledge. Teach them our Gifts.”

  “Gifting can’t be taught. They’ll learn soon enough,” Wren said. “Maybe they think they have more of us...with raw talent. It couldn’t be all bad to have more Gifted around, could it?”

  “Yes, what could be better than an army of magicians loyal to Aprica?” Callidus said.

  Wren glowered.

  “Do you think it’s true, what Beatrix said? They’re following us?” Thom asked. “Keeping tabs? It means...we can’t leave, doesn’t it?”

  Wren tipped her head back against the interior of the carriage. “It’s not like we have anywhere to go.”

  “Somewhere out there is safe from the Apricans,” said Thom. “Lucas and Trick...”

  “There’s nowhere safe from the Apricans,” Callidus murmured. “Not now.”

  “You two are just rays of blooming sunshine, aren’t you?” Thom banged his fist on his knee. “If you don’t think we should run, what do you think we should do?”

  Wren lifted her head in surprise. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Thom angry.

  Callidus looked at them both, his dark eyes penetrating. “Isn’t it obvious? There’s only one thing to do.”

  Wren tended to agree. Keep their heads down. Stay alive. Hope the Apricans grew sick of the rain and headed home to bluer skies.

  “What?” Thom asked.

  Callidus’s voice was as hard as steel. “We overthrow this king too.”
/>
  Wren tipped forward, burying her head in her hands with a strangled laugh. Not this—not again. She had toyed with politics once, had treated it like a game. And look what had happened. Sable had ended up dead. Hale was an enemy. She had betrayed Lucas in her desperation—the Apricans had used the very key Lucas had given her to take Maradis, and all of Alesia. In winning, they had lost. “No,” she said, the word muffled in her hands.

  “No?” Callidus scoffed. “You were always the one leading the charge! I need you in this, Wren.”

  She looked up. “No. No. Just...no. I can’t believe I’m the one having to be the voice of reason. I’m out.”

  “You’re going to let them have everything? The city? The wells? The Gifted? Your infused chocolates? Your life? Because what, you’re...tired?” Callidus said.

  “Not because I’m tired. Because I’m weary to the marrow of my bones,” Wren said. How to explain? “And I’m heartbroken. My boyfriend is in exile. My friends are dead. And...I don’t want to end up like them.”

  Callidus shook his head. “We started something, Wren. We and the other Guilds. We can’t leave things worse than they were when we started. We have to finish it.”

  “You can worry about your legacy as guildmaster. I’ll worry about—”

  “Yourself,” Callidus retorted.

  Wren wanted to grab him by the lapels of his black jacket and shake him. “We’re just people, Callidus. I thought wanting to make something better was enough. But...it’s too big. This is the might of the Aprican army. We’re just...people.”

  Callidus shook his head, his gaze fixed out the window. “Anything that ever changed was done by just a person. I suppose—”

  But Callidus’s words were ripped from the air as a deafening boom rocked the carriage.

  Wren’s hand shot out against the carriage wall to steady herself, but it was futile. Another wracking boom sounded, the noise rumbling through her like an earthquake.