“Then I’ll mind mine. How was the ride?”
“I mostly looked out the window. You good?”
She nodded, rolling her shoulders. “Haven’t ridden like that in a while. Wish I could do it more often.”
We watched a couple in long crimson coats over their quilted tunics pass on white horses with embossed and embroidered saddles.
“What’s our position on stealing from wealthy Vhranians?” I quietly asked.
“I’m for it,” Wren said. “But it might not do much for diplomacy.”
“What’s the Vhranian punishment for thieves?”
“You lose a hand.” She grinned. “So don’t get caught.”
Nearby, Nik handed a drawstring bag of jangling coins to a caravanserai worker. The prince must have had servants devoted exclusively to the sewing of coin pouches.
“Yue?” I asked when he and Galen approached.
“She’ll stay out here. Generally prefers animals to people,” Nik said.
“Don’t blame her,” Wren muttered.
“There’s an Anima on the building,” I said, and pointed to its location.
“An attacker?”
“Honestly, he looks like he’s keeping watch.”
“So we shouldn’t be concerned?” Galen asked.
“Not unless you’ve done a lot of evildoing.” I looked at him speculatively. “Have you?”
There was a moment of wide-eyed terror before it faded again. “That’s not funny.”
“I found the look on your face very funny, actually.”
Galen’s lip curled, and he looked at Nik for support.
“Only a bit funny,” Nik said soothingly.
Galen muttered something.
“Evildoing,” I warned, and we followed Nik under an archway, which led into a second courtyard. But where the first had been sunny and dusty and loud, this one was quiet as a shrine and green as the foothills. Palm trees rose higher than the walls, with smaller plants throwing up vivid flowers that perfumed the air. The courtyard was edged by a covered walkway, where patrons sat on benches in the shade. Nik led us to a fountain of gleaming white tile patterned with vivid blue flowers, where water gurgled from copper spouts into a shallow basin.
“This is from the spring around which the original fort was built,” Nik said. “It’s destined never to run dry.”
A brass mirror, a round plate of gleaming metal with symbols etched around the edge, hung above the fountain.
“What does it say?” Wren asked.
“ ‘Peace to all who are reflected here,’ ” Nik translated. “You can wash your face and hands there before we go in. It’s a courtesy.”
A requirement, he meant, which I was fine with. I felt gritty despite having ridden in the carriage, and Wren took her time cleaning her hands and nails.
When we were refreshed, we followed him into a wide room with high shuttered windows that allowed a breeze to flow across the space. Water emerged from a group of rocks in one wall, powering a waterwheel that turned palm fronds and moved more cool air.
“Very clever,” Wren said approvingly.
