November 9, 2016 by Lyn Thorne-Alder
The chief constable appeared a little too unimpressed with Enrie. She let her smile get a little bigger and, at the same time, a little more sharp, a little more impatient. The chief, in turn, responded by turning to look at the oncoming cart.
Enrie thought about her mother, being stopped at the gate of a provincial town. “There’s not a problem, is there? We were just hoping for a little visit with family.”
“Travelling in a wagon?” The constable frowned. “This isn’t the sort of transportation you expect from a member of the royal house, is it?”
“You take what transport provides itself, no? And since House Monitor Libkazaarie was kind enough to bring me with my friends for this little holiday, well, I wasn’t going to complain about coming in a wagon and not a gilded carriage.” Enrie hoped her smile looked as inviting as she thought it did. The cart was almost here. She was lying through her teeth and she was absolutely certain it showed.
The chief frowned. That was not a good sign. Enrie hopped down from the driver’s platform and bowed to him again. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard your name…?”
“Chief Constable of Lannamer Kinyizhan-Pozh.” He bowed back to her, a deeper bow and more respectful than she’d expected or hoped for. “We were told there were thieves coming from the Academy. You’re clearly from the Academy; you said as much.” He seemed reluctant to put the pieces together and peered at her as if hoping she’d do it for him.
Enrie wasn’t really feeling accommodating when it came to accusations. “Oh, that’s awful! We’ve come from the Academy, of course, but I didn’t hear anything about thieves. Who would do such a thing?” They had less than a minute until the cart reached them. The men in the front of that vehicle looked angry; even their goats looked menacing. “I just want to see my cousin Elalekorra. I had some matters of schoolwork I wanted to discuss with him…?” She let it trail in the air, turning the tables and inviting the constable to fill in the blanks.
He looked at the cart and his lips pursed. She wasn’t sure what numbers he was putting together, but she hoped he was adding them up in her favor. “A matter of schoolwork,” he said slowly. “With the House Monitor here?”
“Well, it’s very important schoolwork?” she offered uncertainly. This was not quite the total she’d expected him to reach.
“Schoolwork involving history, perhaps?”
Something about the way he was wiggling his eyebrows at Enrie made her look at him a little more intently. “It’s a history project, yes,” she answered carefully. “Perhaps even a historical project, if we get it done right.”
“That sort of thing, it can annoy people.” He looked at the oncoming cart again.
“It can, yes. It often seems to annoy all the wrong people,” Enrie admitted.
“That can be dangerous.”
“Yes.” Enrie hoped this was going somewhere good. “Yes, it can.”