***

The big oak doors groaned on their hinges as Lawrence walked into the vestibule. The housemaster was there to greet him, so he stopped immediately in expectation.

“Mr. Garth,” the housemaster said, without allowing him enough time to take in the old tapestry covering the walls. “Welcome to Veridien. I’m Herr Becker, your housemaster, and will see that you are properly settled. Now please, let’s make haste. Lessons start early at Veridien, so there is much for me to do. As for you, you are excused for today. Follow me.”

The housemaster had an imposing presence for a man of around fifty, standing at barely three quarters of Lawrence’s height from the ground. His thinning hair was combed over his head, and his weathered eyes, hiding behind thick-rimmed glasses, didn’t leave any room for guessing his choice of career. He looked like a man who enjoyed studying old texts and enforcing rules just as ancient.

His dark wool coat cut as perfect a figure as its wearer, and the way Herr Becker moved, fast and precise spoke of outstanding efficiency.

They were walking now through a long corridor that ran along the outer wall. In the old times, it must have been a vantage point for archers. The small apertures through which light filtered into the damp hallway let him know as much. A slightly damp smell reminded Lawrence of how old the building was.

“Modifications have been made to accommodate the students’ needs, as you will see. Don’t let the medieval air of the place fool you,” Herr Becker continued, showing that he could be quite chatty for a man dedicated to studying and the quietness of libraries. “The ingenuity of the human mind is endless. That is what we cultivate here, at Veridien. You will find our curriculum demanding, Mr. Garth. But in the search of excellence, everything is allowed, and, above all, encouraged.”

Lawrence followed the housemaster into a square room sparsely but tastefully appointed with several statues, at the end of which a spiral stairway led higher, into one of the tall towers.

“I understand that you seek to deepen your knowledge of Classical Greek and Latin. At our institution, these are more than simple academic pursuits. They will serve you well in your travels overseas. Serving the country is our motto. You will leave this place an educated man, I can assure you, Mr. Garth. Ancient languages do more than string letters together, the way modern ones do. The layman may consider them obscure, but they reveal understandings that would otherwise remain concealed to the uneducated eye.”

Lawrence’s fabricated academic backstory recommended him as a student destined for the Foreign Service, the cultural department, after his graduation that involved several institutions, the police academy included. It served well – under the circumstances – that he had studied Classical Greek and Latin on his own, as hobbies. History had always fascinated him, especially the ancient part of it. Marius Vassier had been over the moon to learn about his extracurricular activities and studies. You’ll fit right in, my boy.

Lawrence planned to fit in precisely as much as needed. Forming alliances, getting entangled in friendships – even fake ones – would complicate things unnecessarily. That was his logical brain insisting that he forget about his earlier encounter with Bastien. No, not the encounter; only the effect of it, something Lawrence now found positively ludicrous. A more romantically-inclined person would have consider themselves under a spell. Lawrence knew that wasn’t the case.

“You are a man of particular talents, I hear. I look forward to witnessing your performance during lessons,” Herr Becker continued.

He walked up the spiral staircase without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t an issue for Lawrence, either; a sound mind in a sound body had never struck him as anything but practical. However, their climb was steep and made him believe that whoever used to be sent to the top of the tower in the past must have found themselves guilty of terrible sins, whether toward God or the lord of the castle.

Lawrence considered it rather adequate. His interest wasn’t to mingle with the others and form attachments – he kept repeating that to himself. Beyond the purpose of his investigation, he had no intention of getting to know his fellow students.

His quarters were, as he’d expected, the only living space at the top of the tower. No more than a monk’s cell, it still provided enough room for a student’s bare necessities: a narrow bed, a desk placed underneath the single window in the room, and a large armoire from a different time.

Another thing Lawrence noticed right away was the ceramic bowl serving as a sink, complete with a faucet made from stainless steel. The materials were beautiful looking but also sturdy. Pipes had been threaded through the walls to concede this little modern luxury to the exiled occupying the room. Wood paneling had been carefully placed over the work done to conceal them from view.

All in all, Lawrence couldn’t have asked for more.

“We apologize for the drab amenities,” Herr Becker said. “Since we were noted of your arrival with such short notice, it was the best we could do. The common lavatories are located on the ground floor.”

“Thank you, Herr Becker,” Lawrence said politely. “I find them more than adequate.”

The shadow of a smile flew over the housemaster’s thin features. “A man who knows his place. You will get far in life, Mr. Garth, despite your humble provenance. Humble compared to your fellow students, whom you will soon meet, of course. Focus on your studies, and Veridien will provide all you need to succeed.”

In other words, don’t even hope to make friends among your betters. Lawrence understood well what wasn’t spoken out loud.

“A chambermaid will oversee the cleaning while you are attending lessons,” Herr Becker continued his orientation lesson.

“I am perfectly capable of making my own bed.” Lawrence realized that he hadn’t even considered this detriment to his planned investigation. He didn’t need strangers going through his room while he was away.

“Ah, that military education of yours,” Herr Becker remarked with a small mocking sneer. Lawrence didn’t bother to correct him. “We do things differently at Veridien. You will get used to it. I’ll leave you to get acquainted with your new room. But we’ll be expecting you at lunch.”

Lawrence bowed politely and waited for the housemaster to make his exit. Another thing that didn’t appear to be a habit at Veridien was locking doors, or at least some of them. There was no key in the lock, and someone as perfect for his job as Herr Becker wouldn’t have neglected to inform him of where he’d find one.

Challenges. Lawrence didn’t mind them. The faculty, through Herr Becker, informed him that they were wary of him and his unexpected transfer. The reason for their lack of trust could come from accepting a middle-class student in their midst or something far more nefarious. An open mind wouldn’t be enough to decipher the secrets of this place, Lawrence decided, as he started unpacking.

It struck him moments later that Herr Becker had never mentioned where and when lunch was served. Lawrence smiled to himself. Petty people were as good as transparent most of the time.

TBC