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Lin and Josit remained in the shadow of the wall, reluctant to reveal their presence to Mayesh. Lin had wondered what he had been grieving for—what had so troubled him up at the Palace that day? Or was it simply the nightly reminder that no matter what help he was to the Blood Royal up on the Hill, he would still spend every night of his life behind locked gates?
But she and Josit did not approach him, and did not ask. What would they say? He was, in truth, nearly a stranger to them, in every way that mattered.
She was not sure what she thought now. She had come here because of what had happened in the Square; Ji-An had said Mayesh had been there, and she knew he would not have had a pleasant day. He prided himself on planning and control, and this was something very much out of his control, and contrary to his plans.
And he might have news of the Prince,said a small voice in the back of her head.How he is reacting. If he is all right.
She told herself firmly that this was a voice she should not listen to, and fixed her attention on Mayesh, who had come halfway upthe stairs of his own house before stopping. He had clearly seen her, sitting in his rosewood chair.
“Lin,” he said. It was half a question.
She stood up. “I was worried about you,” she said.
He blinked, slowly. “I thought you were your mother for a moment,” he said. “She used to wait for me, here, when I returned from the Palace late.”
“I would guess,” Lin said, “that she was worried, too.”
Mayesh was silent for a long moment. The night air was soft and lifted Lin’s hair, brushing it across her cheek. She knew she had her mother’s hair, those same fiery strands she had tugged on when she was a child.
“Come inside,” Mayesh said at last, and went past her to the front door.
It had been years since Lin had been inside her grandfather’s house. It had not changed much, if at all. It was still spare, plainly furnished. There was no clutter or mess. His books were lined up carefully on their shelves. A framed page from theBook of Makabihung on his wall; it had always puzzled her, since she had never thought of him as a religious man.
He sat down at his plain wood table and indicated that she should join him. He had not lit any lamps, but there was enough pale-blue moonlight to see. Once she had seated herself, he said, “I see you’ve heard what happened. I suppose everyone has.”
“Well,” she said, “everyone in the city. Perhaps not everyone in the Sault, yet. I heard it from a patient.”
“I would have thought you’d be pleased,” he said. “You have no fondness for the inhabitants of Marivent.”
It must please you.What the Prince had said to her, when she’d first seen his wounds. It had stung a little, and stung again now.
“I was thinking of you,” she said. “You are the Counselor for a reason. You stand for the Ashkar before the Winged Throne. The Maharam does his work here in the Sault, and so he is seen andappreciated. You do your work on the Hill, and so your hand is invisible. But I have begun to believe that…”
“That what? That I might actually be doing some good for the Sault? That in protecting this city, I am also protecting the Ashkar who live in it?”
“Hmph,” she said. “I do not need to praise you, if you are going to praise yourself.”
He barked a humorless laugh. “Forgive me. I may have forgotten how to recognize recognition itself.”
“Do they not appreciate you, then, up on the Hill?”
“I am necessary to them. But I do not think they consider it often, any more than they consider water or sunlight or any of the other things they cannot manage without.”
“Do you mind?”
“It is how it should be,” he said. “If they thought too much about how they needed me, they might begin to resent me. And to consider: Is it only me they resent? Or all Ashkar? Malgasi is not the only example, you know. Not the only place we have been driven from, after thinking ourselves safe.” He shook his head. “This is too grim a discussion. I am disappointed today, yes, and angry, but I will survive. Castellane will survive. An alliance with Sarthe is not such a terrible thing.”
“So it is true,” she said. “They presented the Prince with a little girl, and now he must marry her?”
“They will not marry yet,” he said. “She will live in the Little Palace, and be tutored there, and likely encounter the Prince only on occasion. After eight years or so, they will marry. It is strange, but most royal marriages are strange. It is countries that marry, after all, not people.”
“But you’re disappointed,” she said. She knew she was reaching for the answer to a question she had not asked, and could not:How is the Prince?He had resigned himself to one thing, and now must face quite another.
“In myself,” he said. “I should have seen the signs of this. WhatConor did, he did out of desperation. He was ashamed to go to the Treasury for what he needed, so he hatched this half-cocked plan with Sarthe—” He shook his head. “But he has had no proper guidance. Jolivet teaches him to fight, and I try to teach him to think, but how do you learn to be a king? From the king before you. And if that cannot happen…” He looked at her. She could not see his eyes clearly, only the bluish reflection of the moon. “Have you given any thought to my suggestion?”
“About finding the Sault too small?” Lin said. She put her elbows on the table; Chana Dorin would have been annoyed. “If that was a suggestion, you will have to be clearer about what you mean.”
“Don’t test me, Lin. The Ambassador from Sarthe threw a plate at me today, and I am an old man.”
