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“Zeliha, do you have your seal?” Kadou asked.
“Hold on a moment—how hard, Durdona? Like this?”
“Yes, better, now the next treadle—”
“It’s just that I need to shut down the harbors,” Kadou said, a little louder to be heard over the clack of the flying shuttle, the clatter of the rising and falling shafts, the thump of the beater.
Zeliha gave him a brief mystified look before her expression cleared. “Oh, because of Melachrinos? We’ve already impounded her ships. She can’t run off by sea.”
“She can if she has enough money.”
“We’ve seized all her accounts.”
“She might have more counterfeits. Or friends to help her.”
“Not if they know what’s good for them.”
“May Ipleaseborrow your seal?” Kadou said.
“You’re the Duke of Harbors,” she said, shrugging. “If you want to close them, then be my guest.” She pulled out the seal, hanging on a long chain around her neck. It was not the royal seal, of course. That too would be locked up in the palace, in a safe or a vault somewhere in the sultan’s offices.
Kadou hesitated before taking it. “There’s someone I want to investigate,” he said.
“Is there?” Her gaze shifted to Evemer’s mother. “Durdona, if I could have a moment?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said immediately, and grabbed Evemer’s elbow as she went for the door, pulling him after her.
“He stays, please,” Kadou said. “Sorry.”
Mama seemed surprised, but she released Evemer with an impressed glance, which filled him with warmth and pride, and swept out, shutting the door after her.
“Who is your suspect?” Zeliha asked, folding her arms on the breastbeam of the loom.
“Not . . . quite a suspect. Just someone to look at. Siranos’s sister,” Kadou said, very quietly.
Zeliha gazed at him for a long time, expressionless. “Is that so?” Her voice was as soft as silk velvet.
Kadou shot Evemer a panicked glance.
“There was an incident at dinner the other night, Your Majesty. I overheard Madam Sylvia arguing. She was angry. She said she would . . . take care of things. And then, last night’s attack.”
Zeliha gazed at them both, stony and serious, her jaw tight. “Who was she arguing with?”
“Siranos, Your Majesty,” Evemer said.
“And what was his position in the argument?”
“She didn’t allow him to speak much, Majesty. She was . . . dismissive of his idea to remain in Arast.”
“He can’t be involved,” she said in a low, furious voice. “It’s a ridiculous idea. Even if his sister is connected to Azuta Melachrinos and her crimes—what motive couldhepossibly have? He’s the body-father of the next sultan of Arast! All he has to do is make himself pleasant enough to stay in my favor and he’s set for life! What reason could he have to conspire against that?”
“We’re not sure about him. We’re not even sure about Sylvia,” Kadou mumbled.
“Enough!” she shouted. “Don’t speak to me of this again until you find something real!” She subsided immediately, drawing back into herself with a sharp breath and closing her eyes. She held out the seal. “Just take it.” Her voice was cool again, controlled. “Shut down the harbors if it pleases you, if you think that freezing trade indefinitely is a reasonable and measured decision to make. I’m sure the fishers don’t need to go out to sea. I’m sure that we’ve imported all the food and goods and raw materials that we need. I’m sure that there aren’t travelers coming or going, or news, or diplomatic envoys. I’m sure that a city of twenty thousand people can survive very comfortably with the port closed for days or weeks on end, just to keep one idiot merchant from leaving the city by sea.” She glared at him. “To hell with that woman. I was going to be forced to release her within the week anyway.”
Kadou didn’t take the seal. He turned and left the room, the letter clenched in his fist. Evemer bowed deep and followed him. He’d already rushed back upstairs by the time Evemer was at the foot of the stairs.
“Honeybee,” Mama called, stopping him in his tracks. “Will His Highness want lunch?”
