“You can’t immediately start speaking for the Nameless,” Esther says. “Not to the Royals and not like that. They won’t give you anything you ask for. You have to wrap your request in something more palatable.”
I scratch at some melted wax on the edge of the desk. “You mean like when people give medicine to children. Or so I hear.”
“Exactly,” Esther says. “Think of the Royals like impertinent, impatient children. If you tell them the Nameless are missing, they won’t care. If you tell them there’s a threat to the Nameless that also threatens them, they will listen. When I took a stance against you, I was giving you a way forward. If you get any indication at all of what’s happening, you can position it as a threat against them. Then they’ll act.”
I sigh. “That’s stupid. Something terrible is happening to people in Seridan, and they’ll only care about it if it’s someone they know.”
Esther grimaces. “The truth may not be preferable, but it is still the truth. That’s the system we currently have. But giving the speech will be a great step forward with them.”
A wave of anxious energy rises through me. A speech. I have to give a speech in front of all the Nameless, denouncing them. And the council expects a handwritten copy for approval.
I squint up at the ceiling, and Esther peers at me.
“Here’s the thing,” I say. “I can’t read.” And now that I’ve said it, I look at her more directly. “I’m sure that delights you. I’m every bit as unqualified as you believe me to be.”
She studies me for a moment and then sighs as if she has given up trying to understand what I’m thinking. “You’re not unqualified. Or at least…you’re not as unsuited for this as I thought you were. The way you discussed terms with the Royal Council today was impressive. Did you get everything you wanted? No. But you got them to meet you halfway. Everything you’ve learned from Eldritch, everything you’ve learned from…wherever you learn things…let you lead for the first time.”
“Here’s the second thing,” I start. “I need to make this speech. I know that. But I’m afraid that if I give the wrong speech, I could make everything worse. Will you…?” I pause for a long time.
Esther’s confusion slowly transforms into amusement as she realizes what I’m trying to ask.
“Will you help me?” I force the words out.
“Did it hurt you to ask?” Esther says.
“Only my very soul,” I respond. “I practically feel faint. Are you going to help me or not?”
“While my stance on your position as the heir is quite clear, I believe we share a genuine concern for the well-being of the city. It is in Seriden’s best interest for me to assist you.”
I appraise her for a moment. “See, now you have to help me, because you just admitted that you don’t like me, but you also kind of complimented me. You’re very good at saying two things at once.”
“Meet me in the palace library,” she says, “and I’ll help you write your speech.”
I study her aura, searching for any sign of deception. Her aura reminds me of a wrought-iron gate—the kind I’ve seen protecting gardens in the Royal Court. She is firm and cold, but protective. She cares about Seriden more than I ever could.
I cycle through a couple of sarcastic remarks before speaking. “I’ll join you within an hour. I have to stop off somewhere first.”
She taps a fingernail against the edge of the shelf she’s standing beside. “She’s not really on a schooner called the Delicate Crest, is she?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. Then, with a mild but respectful bow, I depart.
If Esther suspects Hat is still in the city, surely there are others on the council who feel the same. I stop off in a few rooms for ten minutes at a time to make sure no one is following me.
I enter Med Ward and find Hat where I left her. In the oversized Legal dress, she’s smaller and paler than I remember.
“How are you doing, Hat?” I say as I crouch beside her.
“I’m all right,” she says with a trembling voice and a breathy cough.
For a moment I’m worried that she’s caught an actual illness.
But as she grasps my hand, her whole demeanor shifts. She speaks in a clear, quiet voice. “As it turns out, I am a fabulous actor. They really should hire me for the stage plays. I should be getting paid for this.”
I sigh in relief, pulling her hand up against my forehead for a moment. “I could kill you or kiss you.”
“If you’re going to try to kill me, this is the right place for it.” She grins.
“Not funny,” I say. “Are you having any trouble? Do you think you can stay for another day or so? I…did something.”
“What did you do?” She knows me well enough to know that it isn’t good news.
“I took a stand against the Royal Council,” I say.
“That doesn’t sound bad,” Hat says, “which makes me think that you’re leaving something important out?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I took a stand…by refusing to turn you over. In front of all of them, I prioritized you over the welfare of the entire city. Yeah. I did that.” I search Hat for a reaction.
I realize now that being able to sense the auras of the Royals and Legals has made it more difficult to read people. On the streets, I studied faces and body language. I read people the way others read books. But now I’m at a loss without being able to sense her aura.
I examine the slight crease between her eyebrows, trying to decode it. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking. I used to be good at this.”
Hat readjusts on the soft bed. “I’m conflicted. On the one hand, that kind of sounds like a bad choice. On the other hand, I really like not being executed.”
I laugh. Even now, as she pretends to be on her deathbed, hiding from a city hunting her, she smiles, she laughs, and she jokes.
“Well? What did you tell them?” she asks.
“I told them Devil’s lie that you were on a fast ship heading south and that I had absolutely no regrets. And then I commanded them to start a search for the missing Nameless.”
“Do you think they’re going to do it?” she asks.
“No. I don’t,” I say. “I think maybe I just asked them to do it so I wouldn’t feel so guilty about not knowing what’s happening. I can’t help but feel like I’m being selfish here.”