I let go of Esther’s hand, and the images, the memories, vanish.
“You can see the hallucinations you create, right?” I ask. “Then show me what you can do.”
Esther puts out her hand. I can tell she’s watching something happen. It lasts five or six seconds.
“That should be more than enough,” she says, and she puts out her hand once again.
I take it, and every detail of her memory blossoms in my mind. There’s a small violet bird in her palm. It teeters to its feet, stretches its wings, and launches into the air with a screeching squawk, trailing behind its wings a storm of black clouds, which blanket the entire room, as if my vision has gone dark.
I feel the damp against her skin and the humidity in her lungs.
Then she lets go of my hand, and the memory vanishes. I search the wide room, expecting the bird to fly out of a dark corner.
“I’m guessing that was Ray-la?” I say, pointing at where the imaginary bird disappeared.
“Yes,” Esther says.
“You didn’t tell me your pet was a scary creature of darkness.” I chuckle, and Esther grins. Then Esther withdraws a circle of metal from the bag she brought with her. It’s a patterned, stylized circlet.
“Is that a crown?” I ask.
“It is,” she says. “This was going to be the crown I wore when I stepped forward as queen. It’s simple, but strong. You should wear it tomorrow at the festival. It will remind people of your position.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. That’s yours. And we’re not even sure I’ll be walking out of that arena alive, let alone with the tattoo.”
Esther runs a finger along the metal circlet. “I want you to wear it.”
I keep forgetting how convinced she is that I’m meant to be queen. I take the circlet and inspect the braided metal. It’s beautiful, in its own way, but it’s cold in my hand. I feel her aura poised like a frog about to leap. She waits for me to try it on.
“I’ll just…put this someplace safe, shall I?” I offer. Before she can object, I escape the sparring room and take the circlet to my sleeping quarters. All the while, it slowly warms against my skin. By the time I stow it in the wardrobe, it almost feels comfortable in my grasp.
When I get back to the sparring room, I stop outside the door when I overhear Esther and Hat talking to each other.
“I can tell that you look up to her,” Esther says.
I lean up against the door, listening in.
“We’re…” Hat struggles to continue. “Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s scared of caring about me or scared of losing me. But I’m not asking her to be my mother or anything. I want to be her friend. We can have each other’s backs, but she doesn’t get that yet. She still thinks I’m a kid.”
“You guys seem really close,” Esther says.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What would you call it?” Esther asks.
“Well,” Hat says, “I’m not sure what you call it when you care about someone and they’re afraid to care about you because they already care about you too much. We’re not quite friends. I don’t know what we are. But we’re something. I mean, you don’t rush out to the gallows to save just anyone from execution, right? What we are…I guess it’s Nameless.” And pride fills her voice.
“Isn’t that difficult?” Esther asks. “Don’t you want to define it or understand it?”
“Gaiza,” Hat says. “Every time I try to understand Coin, I take twenty steps in the wrong direction. But some of the best things are Nameless, I think. Like…like that feeling you get somewhere between your heart and your stomach when you’re about to pickpocket someone. It’s a mix of fear and excitement, and you have no idea what’s going to happen next. That whole big feeling? There isn’t a name for it. It’s Nameless.”
I hear the smile in Esther’s voice when she echoes Hat’s words. “And some of the best things are Nameless.”
CHAPTER 21
For the rest of the day, I do my best to avoid the Royal Council, and I have my dinner brought straight to the sparring room. The last thing I want to do is run into Belrosa or Marcher in the corridors.
I don’t even feel comfortable staying in the guest quarters tonight. Everyone knows that’s where I’ve been sleeping. If anyone feels inclined to murder me in the morning to steal the crown tattoo, it’s best they don’t know where I am. We consider if I should stay in the king’s quarters, but that’s not an unreasonable place for someone to look either.
In the end, the four of us go to the top floor of the Fallow tower to spend the night in Esther’s home. The tower is quiet and dark, and the only two auras I sense from this high up are Esther’s and Glenquartz’s. Esther takes a bright velvet chaise, and the remaining three of us take the oversized bed. Esther douses the lantern. In the darkness, I listen to them breathing. After a while, dark shapes crisp into edges and objects with depth.
I know parts of a lullaby. Some of the tune I picked up over the years, mumbled by mothers to their children. Some of it I heard in Esther’s memory of her mother. Tonight I hum the tune gently, more breath than notes. I tap the rhythm against the ribbed decorations on the dagger’s sheath.
I sit awake, guarding my friends. Maybe this is what a family is. Not the crew of orphans guided and guarded by Marcher, and not the strings of last names and color-coordinated dresses here in the palace. Maybe it’s this: staying awake, listening to them breathe, humming a lullaby.
Without a watch, it’s hard to tell how much time passes. Out on the street, I would light a candle and mark off the hours along the wax. When the candle burned past its mark, we’d switch shifts. Now I simply stare out into the dark room, following the curving gray outlines of bodies beneath blankets.
When morning comes, I’m surprised to find I actually fell asleep.
Esther is already up, sitting in the cushioned window seat.
“I was going to wait a bit longer before waking anyone,” she says.
Faint light is just starting to brighten the hues of the room, casting a glittery glow from the translucent curtains onto the ceiling. Everything is warm.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Esther says, staring at us.
Glenquartz sleeps on his side in full uniform, and Hat is curled up in a ball between us. Her body is still accustomed to curling for warmth on cold nights.
I gently rise from the bed so I don’t disturb them. “Precious.”