Wanting is the needle, and the world is the oak. The needle that sews against the grain will break.
Every Sunfell woman who believed otherwise is pressed inside that book like a flower.
But why do people press flowers?
To keep them.
I let myself into the shop and put the kettle on.
I don't look at the dress again.
Not tonight.
11
TORGAN
"This number is wrong." I tap the ledger.
The entire negotiation chamber goes quiet.
Pa turns his head slowly toward me. I've spoken out of turn on the third day of sessions, and the heir speaks only when the lord invites it. But I've been staring at the same figure on the same schedule for an hour, and I'm done watching my father get politely bled dry.
They say humans conquered their lands through paperwork. I can see how.
The Duke of Valeforth sits across the long table, folded into his chair like he's half asleep. His clerks flank him. Princeton sits at his right hand, working through a stack of papers. Caden sits at the far end, present because form requires a second son and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. He's been sneaking glances at me all morning.
Trying to read the family he's courting into, I assume.
Smart man.
"Which number?" the Duke asks mildly. Sleepily.
I don't buy it.
"The dock fee." I turn the schedule around and slide it across the table. "Four percent on orc freight through Merreach. Your clerk called it standard. But the Mellican traders pay two. The river barges pay two. And I've sat here for three days listening to every number in this treaty get called standard."
I keep my voice level. "So either orc freight is twice as heavy as everyone else's, or the word means something different when it's applied to us."
Silence.
Princeton's pen stops.
"Torgan," Pa says.
A warning. But he doesn't take the schedule back.
"It's a fair question," the Duke says. He hasn't moved. "The higher rate reflects higher costs. Orc goods require additional handling. Inspection. Coordination."
"Protection," I say. "Knowledge of the territory. You gave us this speech at dinner, Your Grace. It was smoother the first time."
"Torgan," Pa snaps.
"No, no." The Duke waves a soft hand at him. "Let the young lord speak. It's refreshing. Most men his age don't read the schedules."
His eyes settle on me, and the sleepiness thins.
"You'll find, my lord, that trade has costs that don't fit neatly into columns. The four percent stands. Or the docks are always available to those who would rather row their cloth to market themselves."
