Denerim Confidential

Chapter 23

The hearing was swift. Its outcome was inevitable.

Cullen tried to plead her case. But the Knight-Commander wanted to protect his protege, and the story of a temptress leading a promising Templar astray was too appealing for the senior Templars to reject. Mei and Mei alone would bear the punishment.

Three days after being caught with Agent Cullen Rutherford in her bed, Mei Surana was made Tranquil.

********

The days blurred into one another after that. Mei woke. She ate. She ran errands. She served the mages and Templars, making food and doing laundry and tidying their rooms. It was mindnumbing work and no one would look her in the eye, but she was not capable of caring.

Every day she passed by classes of mages practicing their spellcasting, doing things that Mei would never do again. Mei wondered if she should miss it, but she found that she could not remember a time before this, a time when she had been able to cast spells, to laugh or cry or feel anger. There was only the numb emptiness inside her. That was all she was, now.

Sometimes she caught a glimpse of herself in a window or a mirror and stood utterly still, staring at the brand seared into her forehead.

********

As she walked through the hallways of the Circle one afternoon, Mei looked down to find a folder in her hand. It bore only four words as its address: "Agent Cullen Rutherford URGENT."

Cullen will want this. Mei quickened her steps.

But when she knocked on the door to Cullen's office, it was Max Trevelyan who opened it.

The handsome Templar wore his usual friendly smile. But the instant he saw Mei it turned into something much uglier, a glare filled with the kind of loathing Mei had never seen on his genial face.

"You," he spat.

Mei held out the envelope. "I am here to deliver this to Agent Rutherford." Her voice sounded flat and far away.

Max snorted and stepped aside. "Go right on in. But he's under the weather at the moment."

As Max moved, Mei's heart stopped. In a darkened office, Cullen was passed out at his desk, snoring and unconscious. His blonde hair was overgrown, his wiry curls a tangled thicket, and Mei could see the dark circles underneath his eyes even from the doorway. A puddle of whiskey was forming at his feet, leaking from the bottle in his lap. Its fumes wove through the room like poisoned gas.

"He's been like this since you got that brand. A drunken mess. He's going to lose his job, his career," Max spat, his voice shaking with hatred. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it? To ruin his life. You hate Templars. You told me so."

"That is not true, Agent Trevelyan. I cared very much for Agent Rutherford, when I had that ability." Mei's voice was even, unemotional, indifferent.

"Well. Wasn't that unlucky for him."

Suddenly Max was standing in front of her, ripping the envelope from her hands. "Get out. Don't ever come back here again," he snarled, looming over her. "Tell them to send some other ... some other mindless nothing to deliver the mail."

Mei turned and walked away, her steps even, her breath quiet. She was Tranquil. She could not respond. She could not be hurt. She could not even feel sympathy or worry for the man who had loved her enough to risk everything.

Enough to lose everything.

We both lost everything.

A tear trickled down one cheek as she reached the door. Then, another.