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She smiled in the dark. “Very well. You are asking if I would like to be Counselor after you. And…”And yes I would, but to be the Counselor to the King that this Prince will become, to be with him all day every day, is an idea that should repulse me. If it does not repulse me, is that not a reason not to do it?
“I have worked so hard to become a physician,” she said. “I do not think I could give it up to be Counselor to House Aurelian, and I do not know how I could do both.”
“I think you could,” he said. “When I said you were the best physician in the Sault, it is not only because you had the best scores on the tests.”
Lin had not been aware he knew of her scores. Perhaps Chana had told him?
“It is because you are always challenging yourself,” he said. “You have pushed past so many barriers set up to stop you, and I can tell you from my own experience, once you conquer one challenge, you will want another. You will hunger for it.”
And Lin realized he was right, if not entirely in the way he thought. Magic. That was what she hungered for. To bring light back to Petrov’s stone, to feel that pulse again, that surge of power through her blood.If I were the Counselor to Marivent, what could Inot reach out and find? Qasmuna’s book, surely. Others like it. Nothing is forbidden to those with enough power…
“House Roverge is holding a welcoming party tomorrow night,” said Mayesh. “It was meant to be a welcome for Princess Aimada. They have planned it all this past fortnight, and do not intend to cancel now; it will simply be for Princess Luisa instead. Just as the Palace is still planning their Ascension Day festivities, only they will call it a celebration of the union between Sarthe and Castellane instead. I do not think they are even changing the decorations.”
“House Roverge,” Lin said slowly. “Theirs is the dye Charter?” Mayesh nodded. “I have heard rumors of them,” she added, recalling what she had overheard in the Black Mansion. “That they recently used their influence to drive a family of ink merchants from Castellane. It seems they are bothered by even a hint of competition. But surely that is not really in the spirit of the Charters?”
Mayesh snorted. “Profit is in the spirit of the Charters,” he said. “But yes, the Roverges are especially ruthless in their pursuit of it. Even the other nobles look upon them with some mistrust. As for their treatment of the Cabrols, it was abhorrent, and if I were them, I might worry about revenge.”
Lin felt as if she were holding her breath. If she were to tell Mayesh what she knew—but she could not; her talk with the Ragpicker King had made that clear. She had indicated to him that she would not say anything about Cabrol’s plan, and she knew if she did, he would see it as a betrayal. Besides, the thought of trying to explain to Mayesh how she knew what she did made her feel ill.
In the end, this was not Ashkari business; the Roverges weremalbushim,and it seemed they had done dreadful things. Some part of her wished to lay the moral puzzle of it at Mayesh’s feet and have him sort it out. But it would not be fair to him. The less he knew about the whole business, the better.
“Are you worried about revenge,zai?”
He shook his head. “That is for the Roverges to concern themselves with. I am concerned with the affairs of House Aurelian, andwith the place of the Ashkar in Castellane. That is as far as my remit extends.”
Lin felt a faint sting of relief. Not only did her grandfather seem uninterested in the idea of revenge against the Roverges, he seemed truly to not want to know more. It was part of their being Ashkar, she thought: There was always that layer of something like glass between them and the doings of the outside world.
“If they are so unpleasant,” she said, as lightly as she could, “must we then attend their party?”
Mayesh chuckled. “Parties are rarely about who throws them,” he said. “It will be a small affair, just the Charter Families and the guest of honor. It will be a good opportunity for you to observe them all. To imagine what it might be like to work among them. Accompany me there, and you can give me your answer afterward.”
A party on the Hill. As a child, Lin had taught herself not to want to follow Mayesh to the Hill, to see what he did, to be a part of his life and his duties. But here he was, offering what she had told herself she would never ask for—and not just offering,asking.
“But,” she said, and she knew she was about to say yes, “I have nothing to wear to a party on the Hill.”
For the first time that evening, her grandfather smiled. “Consult with Mariam,” he said. “I think you’ll find that you do.”
After the Sundering and the destruction of Aram, Judah Makabi was named the Exilarch, the leader of the exiled Ashkar, who had no longer any home. He led the Ashkar to the west, where they wandered in the wilderness for generations, during which time Makabi remained young, and did not die, for the blessing of their Queen was upon him.
Every time they settled in a new place, and the inhabitants of that place learned that they were practicinggematry,they would be harried and driven out, for in the dark days after the Sundering, magic was considered a curse. The Ashkar began to become restive. “Why must we wander?” they asked. “Our Queen is gone, and our land as well, why must we continue to practicegematry,which marks us as outcasts?”
—Book of Makabi
“Are you quite sure about this?” said Kel.
“Quite sure about what?” Conor braced a booted foot against the interior wall of the carriage as it nearly lurched into a ditch. The recent rain had left the roads on the Hill pitted with holes. Kel would vastly have preferred that he and Conor ride Asti and Matix the short distance to the Roverges’, but Luisa, it seemed, did not know how to ride a horse. For Conor to arrive without her would not be protocol, so carriages it was. When Kel glanced out the window, he could see the lacquered d’Eon carriage following theirs, like a faithful blue beetle. “Am I sure about my outfit? I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“Not the outfit,” Kel said. “Though now that you bring it up, it is a bit much.”
Conor grinned ferociously. He had decided, for reasons Kel could not fathom, to attend the party dressed as the male incarnation of Turan, the God of desire. (Usually depicted as clothed in silver and gold, Turan could appear as male, female, or androgynous, depending on the God’s mood and the necessities of the situation.) Conor’s breeches and frock coat were of heavy gold fabric,shot through with silk-wrapped threads of contrasting silver. Silver painted his lids, and more glittering powder dusted his cheekbones.
If one looked closely, one could see that the cuffs and lining of his coat had been embroidered with human figures engaged in what could euphemistically be termed “acts of love.” Whatever tailor had been tasked with producing the embroidery had embraced their task with enthusiastic creativity. No position had been depicted more than once. (It was lucky for Conor, Kel thought, that the Queen had declined to attend the party, citing a headache.)
“I have no doubts about my outfit,” said Conor. “The Hierophant is always complaining the royal family does not do enough to honor the Gods. Surely he’d be pleased.”
Kel thought of the grim-faced Hierophant and snorted. “You know he wouldn’t,” he said, “but that is not what I meant. Only—poor Luisa. She is hardly prepared for the silk-clad vultures who populate the Hill.”
“Is anyone?” Conor shrugged. “You were thrown in among them when you were only ten years old. You managed.”
