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“I want to serve something bigger than myself.”
“A minister, then, or a diplomat. They serve.” Evemer gave him a rather puzzled look. “What? You can’t be a kahya forever. You won’t be allowed. You’re too . . .” Kadou waved vaguely. “Competent. Obsessively loyal.” He gave Evemer a wry look, unable to hold back a half smile and a breath of amusement. “We’re definitely going to try to make use of you if you don’t watch out.”
Evemer didn’t answer, just frowned pensively and opened the door for Kadou.
In the corridor, which felt very cool and breezy after the muggy warmth of the bathhouse, Kadou asked, “Want to practice?”
“Practice?”
“Negotiating. Playing politics.”
“How?”
“Talk to Eozena for me?”
“She’s my superior. I shouldn’t attempt to negotiate with my—” He stopped abruptly and blushed.
“Yes,” Kadou said, biting back a laugh. “You alreadydidnegotiate with me just now.”
When they returned to the main room of Zeliha’s quarters, they found Melek sitting at the table, bent over the purses of coins. Çe looked up when they entered and grinned. “Evening, Highness! Exciting day, isn’t it?”
“I’m glad to see you,” Kadou said, smiling back. “When did you get here?”
“Just a couple minutes ago. The commander is talking to Her Majesty in the other room,” çe added, nodding to another door.
Kadou glanced at the door, which was shut tight—so no interruptions would be welcome. He moved over to the table with Melek and folded down to sit on one of the beautifully embroidered cushions. Evemer took his station at the door—Kadou had the vague thought that he was awfully far away, standing there, but brushed it aside.
“I’m told you recommended me for this,” Melek said, glancing up again with another warm smile, which Kadou returned.
“Tadek did, technically. I wasn’t even aware you were a touch-taster at all. Tadek said you had the most sensitive gift of anyone he knows.”
“Mm,” çe agreed. “Not themostsensitive, but I’m pretty sharp.” Melek ran çir hands slowly over the coins, spreading them out across the table. “What am I supposed to be looking for, anyway?”
“Composition. Whether there are any patterns of difference. If there are two groups, or just one.”
Melek nodded and pressed çir hands down flat, spreading them to cover as many of the coins as possible. Çe picked up a few, one by one, and rubbed them between çir fingers. “Well . . . it’s complicated. Where would you like me to start?”
“What do they feel like?”
“The touch-tastes I get from coin gold in general are the flavor of white wine, the smell of cut radishes, and a hazy summer dawn. These aren’t coin gold, of course. You already know they’re debased.” Çe weighed one of the coins in çir hand. “This one was minted in the midafternoon, but all of them were made in the late winter of this year. The gold is from one of the eastern mines, not as far out as Köy, but farther than Isimsiz. The copper is eluding me. I’m not familiar with whatever region or mine it’s from.”
Kadou blinked at çem. “You’rethatsensitive?”
Melek shrugged. “I guess.”
“Why aren’t you doing that instead of being core-guard?” he cried. “Do you know how much money you could make, working at the Mint?”
Melek snorted and clapped a hand to çir mouth.
“What?” Kadou demanded. “What did I—oh. It wasn’t a joke, Melek.”
“How much money I could make,” çe said, giggling. “Workingat the Mint. Where theymake money.”
“Melek.”
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m fine. Sorry.” Çe composed çemself and cleared çir throat. “Well, it’s boring, isn’t it! Poking at metal for hours in some dusty room and making notes in a book, doing the same thing every day!”
Kadou shook his head. “What about the others? Is it the same ratio of copper?”
