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She winced. “That the thing you’re angry about?”
“I guess.” He shook himself. “I’ll bring these papers back as soon as I’m done.” He opened the door quickly, before she could rope him back into the conversation.
“You all right?” Tadek said when they’d made it downstairs and paused in the entryway for him to drape a cloak over Kadou’s shoulders and open a waxed-silk umbrella.
“Yes. It’s nothing.”
Tadek linked their arms together, the better to keep them both under the umbrella as they stepped out into the rain. The touch felt . . . supportive, rather than companionable, like he was buttressing Kadou up before Kadou even noticed he was wavering. “How was breakfast?”
“The food was good. Siranos was there, but . . . He was fine.”
“You know, it’s a lot easier to see why Her Majesty likes him when he’s not going for your jugular,” Tadek said, nodding. “His accent, for example. Mm.”
“I suppose,” Kadou said. “Talking with Zeliha was good too. Mostly.” The rain drummed on the waxed silk above them. “It’s no one’s fault.”
Tadek squeezed their linked arms. “Blame me for it.”
Kadou shook his head. “It’s not about finding someone to pin the blame on.” He put a hand on his chest, safeguarding the papers from falling as they stepped delicately around a puddle on the path. “She said . . . She said I’ll be unbanned from court if I can finish the investigation. Find the person responsible.”
He felt the first slow gyrations of his mind, vulture-like, as it started to focus in on this idea that hehadto finish it, hehad toor all else would be lost, he’d be banned for always, he’d be exiled from the capital or from the country—
He shook himself out of it. The rest of the morning would be for answering letters, not for picking at his scabs.
“You were a little pale when you came out,” Tadek mused. “I thought you might be heading into one of your spells.”
“No. No, it’s not that. Not yet, anyway.”
“Let’s try to head it off at the pass, then, shall we? A cup of something warm and some sweets, when we get back to your rooms.”
Kadou grimaced. “No sweets. I ate my body weight in tarts and eggs and Heyrlandtsche butter sauce already this morning, I don’t want to look at or think about food again for a week.”
They reached the residence where Kadou’s chambers were, on the opposite side of the Gold Court from Her Majesty’s villa. They rushed under one of the covered cloisters to shake the rain out of their cloaks and the umbrella, and to laughingly kick off their shoes, which had gotten irretrievably sodden. The stone walkway was slick under their feet, and an unexpected gust blew rain under the eaves of the cloister, sending them scampering for better cover until Tadek stopped and glanced over the garden. “Is he crazy? Look at that—ridiculous.”
Kadou looked where Tadek nodded. On the other side of the courtyard, in Kadou’s own favorite little corner of the garden, Evemer was still at his morning sword drills, evidently unconcerned with the rain.
He had put off his sash and kaftan and boots. His hair hung in wet curls into his eyes and stuck to his cheeks, and his back and shoulders flexed with every swing of the wooden practice blade, sending a fan of water showering from the edge.
“He’s going to catch his death,” Tadek said, tsking. “But you have to admit the view is worth it. Look at thosearms. You know, the scholars say Sannesi blessed the world a thousand times, but I’ve just found evidence for a thousand and one. Or two, I guess, depending on whether you count ’em separately.”
Kadou very carefully did not think about whether he agreed, nor about how those shoulders had felt under his hands the night before, or the way he’d had to tilt up his face into the kiss because Evemer was just sotall. . .
He cleared his throat. “We should go inside.”
“Just a moment, I want to see him finish this sequence—what is that, the third verse of Beydamur’s progression?”
Kadou hesitated, blushed that he was so easily tempted into lingering. “I think so.”
“He’s worked a nice variation on it,” Tadek said appreciatively. “Fuck, look at the way he uses his height and reach. I can see why the incident in the alley went wrong. Look how much space he needs, look at thetracks.” Evemer had practiced enough these last weeks that he’d worn paths into the grass—he did indeed tend to cover an incredible amount of ground. “You’d really want him on an open field or—well, anywhere but cramped in an alley fight. I’d kill to see him in a running battle. Do you think he does oil wrestling?”
Kadou forced himself away from the railing, turning toward his chambers. “Come along, let’s not gawk.”
“Of course, Highness,” Tadek said.
The unseasonable rain continued into the next day, though it never got heavier than a steady, drizzling shower that hissed on the windowpanes and the plants in the garden. As he had the day before, Evemer practiced sword-forms in the garden in the morning, pushing himself hard enough that the chill of the rain never sank more than skin-deep, then presented himself at His Highness’s chambers once he was dry and dressed.
They had not gone down to the city the night before. Evemer was prepared for another calm day, attending Kadou at home or on some little errand around the Gold Court, followed by another quiet evening that didn’t involve dark alleys in any context, for His Highness had received a summons from Her Majesty that morning, which said that his presence was required at dinner that evening with the Oissic ambassador and her delegation.
Evemer had expected Kadou to grumble about the invitation or attempt to wheedle his way out of it, but he said nothing about it until late in the afternoon, when he only heaved a sigh and said, “Tadek, will you dress me for dinner?”
