When brother Aymon reached the throne room, both the twins and the priests had entered it. Doors were left wide open to pour as much light in it as possible and, with the braziers left dormant, guards held a few torches around the chair.
They had been discussing dinner arrangements, went back to the topic at his arrival.
Unable to watch from just outside, the silver dog had slipped along the men-at-arms and hid behind the door.
"At least we have the priest." Noted one of the twins.
"If lady Joan won't bother to show up, I guess that solves the question." Corentin noted in turn.
And mother Magdeline turned to the sheepish young man who sought refuge near a column.
"We have come to bring you back."
"Ah."
He couldn't say much more, was embarrassed and above all would not move. Mother Clothilde had looked at him for a moment but returned to the nobles.
"Thank you for your invitation but we should take our leave now. The saintess can't be left waiting."
"It is too bad. You bring life to a table, mother Clothilde."
But the brother was still not moving and when mother Magdeline approached to take hold of him he fell back further, forcing her around the column and beyond until she stopped; it had turned into a silent chase.
"Brother Aymon." She scolded. "You are in presence of the bear, behave yourself."
"I can't..." He whispered, head low and eyes lower even. "I... I can't leave..."
A guard quickly turned his bravery to dust by seizing his arm. Abelard had barely had to move his hand for the order to have carried.
Even still he resisted, if barely, and that was enough. Joan quickly realized how the castle could not just so easily lay hands on the clergy.
"Come already." Mother Clothilde's softer tone chided. "This is no place for you."
"The chapel! Is..." He attempted.
"A church. Is where you belong. If you stayed here, you would lose the saintess' blessing."
"Th... then..."
They realized even before his stammering got there that he was ready to give up on the robe. But the guard pushed him forward and let both mothers take hold in turn. Thus trapped, the young man barely gave a fight.
They simply, gently dragged him along toward the doors, with the twins ready to leave as well. It had been all but a formality.
And brother Aymon, desperate, was trying to clutch at anything with his eyes.
When his distress grew high enough he turned and called on the nobles:
"Milords! Let me officiate at the wedding!"
With those words he made everyone pause in place. The head priest sighed and let him turn around fully toward the twins who were exchanging glances.
Abelard shook his head.
"Mother Clothilde already agreed to it."
"All you need is a! ... a priest... If you let me..."
"Silence." The twin cut him.
His steel blue eyes were practically cutting Aymon in pieces. He was asked to replace the head of a monastery with a nobody and that it come from her whim, Joan knew, did not help.
But mother Clothilde surprised everyone:
"Brother Aymon is not wrong." She mused. "I have the utmost confidence that he could adequately replace me for the ceremony."
At her side mother Magdeline held back her scream.
She could not begin to fathom what the venerable mother had in mind, nor could the nobles. They were puzzled, Corentin not the least.
"His lordship our father may not appreciate."
"But who officiates is up to the saintess," she remarked, "and Cormoran could use one more priest."
"So send him ahead to Cormoran, he can wait there for us to arrive."
That made the mother smile, one of those warm smiles elders had the secret of. She walked a few steps toward that young noble to gauge him better.
"I thought you would be relieved to see him stay."
"I do not even understand why he was invited here in the first place. Mother Clothilde, with all due respect, this is a castle."
"And we don't mean to intrude, milord..."
"Nor do we wish to anger the saintess, mother..."
"... but there is no harm in keeping a guest for a few days. Have mercy on the church of Cormoran that suffered terribly to the ills of the realm."
Corentin rolled his eyes.
He looked at Abelard who just shrugged. Both of their gazes fell on brother Aymon and the boy shrinked further, fearful as a leaf.
Then Corentin looked at mother Clothilde once more. Behind those peaceful looks he could not help but suspect some scheme.
"Out of curiosity," he inquired, "what did you find in the woods?"
"Nothing but superstitions as you expected milord. People believe in curses too easily. Thank you again for taking care of my protege, I will be departing this afternoon."
"Safe travel then, mother Clothilde."
"Be blessed, milord."
Mother Magdeline in turn offered a salute, looked one last time at the brother she lost, then followed her elder. Both of them were still discussing when they disappeared from sight.
Talking mostly of preparations for the fair.
But behind them the twins were leaving the throne room as well, had the door closed and then turned back to the priest they were left with.
"Where have you slept so far?" Abelard asked.
"With the servants, milord."
"No more. You sleep in the chapel now."
"In the chapel? Yes, milord."
It meant sleeping on a cold floor.
"Be awake before dawn. If mother sees you asleep, we throw you out."
"Also, you will have to eat outside. Ah, why do we have to take care of Joan's pet."
Brother Aymon retreated to the chapel's door, ready to hide in there, but Corentin gestured for him to stay.
"You said you never met lady Joan."
"Only in the stairwell milord."
"Yes, we heard you last time. See, my problem is, I feel like you know more about her than we do. And we don't like being left in the dark. So, how about you tell us why you are so intent on staying around her?"
"W... Well..."
"Just say it." Abelard chimed in. "She is beautiful."
"Very beautiful."
"Out of this realm, really."
"Absolutely mesmerizing."
"A sun-bathed diamond."
"You are blushing, brother." Corentin warned. "That's not good for your health."
Aymon was far more scared than flustered, yet he couldn't help but think about the silver hair that had flown before him and the eyes that had pierced his. It was all too visible.
So Corentin put his hand on the brother's shoulder and started to tighten.
A sobering touch.
"But that's not all there is, is it? So do us a favor and put into words what has you so interested in my future wife. Do that and we will let you officiate."
"Yes, milord. Thank you, milord."
The hand still pressed on his shoulder, hard enough to have him wince. Enough that his back was starting to bend.
This had no purpose, Joan thought. There was no reason to show strength to the weak. It irked her, but she was even more annoyed by the man who, once released, went and folded against the chapel's door.
She had rarely seen a human so weak, only in preys, guided solely by fear and cowardice. That he feared her more didn't make him brave.
But he had done it. He was still here, down and smiling and from her hiding spot she could not help but keep looking at him.