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“Well—no. But the lotion does seem to make the fevers more manageable, so the Moonflower elixir is more effective.” She grimaces. “Maybe. Honestly, I think that all she’s really selling is a cheaper version of hope to desperate people.”
Desperate. Like I just was. I sit back in the chair and run my hands over my face. The room is so silent I can nearly hear the gears shift in my pocket watch.
I need to move. If I keep sitting here, I’ll spin worry into a frenzy. I shove away from my chair and move to the window. The sky above is dark and thick with stars, but the Royal Sector makes for a fine match, random candles and electric lights twinkling throughout the city. The Hold is a massive rectangular building, easily spotted because torches burn all night beside the men standing guard. In the distance, the spotlights sweep along the wall.
Fabric rustles as Tessa leaves her chair and moves to join me. Her voice is very low, very quiet. “You’re worried for your brother.”
“The king needs no one’s worry, least of all mine.”
She hesitates. “Others must suspect he is sick.”
“He’s not sick.” I want my voice to be hard, to scare her away from this line of conversation, but it’s not. I sound petulant. Worse: I sound soft. Weak and afraid.
Without warning, her hand closes on mine, and she gives it a light squeeze.
I look at her in surprise, but her eyes are on the city lights, and she lets go of my hand so gently that it feels like I imagined the touch.
Especially when her voice is all business again as she says, “What about Ostriary?”
I blink. “What?”
Ostriary is the kingdom on the opposite side of the Flaming River, which runs along the western side of Kandala. The river is rough, fast-flowing, and wide—over fifteen miles wide in spots—which would make trade difficult in the best of conditions. But on the opposite shore, Ostriary’s terrain is dense marshland in the south and mountainous in the north, making for treacherous travel. We don’t have a hostile relationship with Ostriary—but thanks to the difficulty of travel, we don’t have a very good one either. Our father had just begun sending emissaries into the region to see whether it would be worthwhile to try to establish trade routes, but then he was killed and Harristan was left to deal with a dying population.
“Are they affected by the fevers?” says Tessa.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Don’t you think it’s worth finding out?”
I inhale to reject the notion—but it’s not a bad question. I look at her. “Maybe.”
“If the Moonflower grows in the north here, maybe it grows in the north there. And if they’re not sick there, maybe you’d be able to get it for—”
“These are a lot of ifs and maybes.” I pause, mentally tabulating how much silver it would take to outfit ships that could withstand the river current and hire people willing to take on the task of traveling and mapping unknown terrain. “It would be costly, too. I’m not sure Harristan would be able to justify the expense.”
That said, Allisander would hate the idea. That alone makes me want to draw up a funding request this very minute.
Tessa sighs.
I sigh.
I wish she hadn’t let go of my hand so quickly. The motion was meaningless, I’m sure of it. The same momentary compassion she would give to a worried mother when we wore masks and tried to help the few we could.
You don’t have to be so cruel.
She may have felt something for Weston Lark, but she hates Prince Corrick.
“It’s worth discussion,” I offer.
She turns to look up at me in surprise, her eyes lighting up. “Really?”
She’s so heartfelt about everything she does that I nearly smile at her reaction. “You’re at court now, so you shouldn’t be so earnest.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
“You should say, ‘If that’s the best you can do, Your Highness.’ ” I say this with an intonation that sounds a lot like how I mock Allisander in my head. “Or, ‘I suppose that will do for now,’ with a heavy sigh so it’s clear you’re unsatisfied.”
She folds her arms across her chest and looks back out at the city. “Well, that’s just ridiculous.”
