The Duke’s Reborn Daughter Sometimes Chooses Violence.
Chapter 159 The Whispering Cuff.
"The expedition went well," my father said, glancing down at the papers in front of him. "Hardly any casualties at all."
I nodded slowly. We sat in my father's office. It was his office now, though for a time I had taken it over. He was well enough to see to things himself, as he had before. There was only one difference. Now, my father welcomed my company and my input. "They cleared four dungeons," I said. "In only a few days. I do not know much about clearing dungeons, but I believe that's a good pace, is it not?"
"It is," my father agreed. "It is too good of a pace. Any dungeon worth clearing takes at least a few days on its own. To clear four of them, and with hardly any casualties at all…" He shrugged. "Either my men are far stronger than I believed they were, or-"
"The dungeons were easier to clear than they should have been," I finished for him. I had read Count Vance's report myself. The man was still recovering from his days on the road, but his report had been very detailed. He had found it strange too, judging from the way he had penned the letter.
My father sat back in his seat and stared at someplace far above where I sat. The far wall, maybe. He was thinking. Which was good, for it meant I had time to think too. A dungeon did not simply run out of monsters. And these had all been within a few miles of our walls.
"If the dungeons are near empty," my father said at last, "then the monsters in them did not simply vanish."
"No," I agreed.
Neither of us said anything for a while after that. There wasn't much to say. Tomorrow, my father would move to open the Council and alter Aelheim's Charter. We would have an enhanced wall guard, and many strong adventurers from the Guild besides. I had made just about every preparation I could have. All save for one. One that I had more than enough reason not to make. Until I'd seen this report.
"Father." He looked back at me. I took a deep breath and forced the words through. "Princess Katarina is in the city. She's here with Aziah Storm."
My father kept staring. Slowly, his eyes widened, and he looked at the closed door as if he expected the woman to come bursting through it at any moment. "That's- why would the Princess or the First Sword be here?" he asked. "If this is some joke, I'm afraid I don't understand it."
A reasonable enough reaction. I had kept this from my father when he had first woken from his coma, for hearing about a Princess roaming his city might have been enough to send him right back into it. And after that… I had simply never found the time. But he had trusted me, and I would be a fool not to trust him. Perhaps I was a fool anyway for trusting him this late, but better late than never. "They are both in the city," I said. "As for why…" I shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not really sure. I think it has something to do with me, but it's hard to say. The First Princess is very- err-" What was the polite way to put something like this? "…peculiar."
My father kept staring at me. "Something to do with you," he repeated. He put one hand over his face and dragged it slowly down. "I really didn't think this would be how things turned out," he murmured to himself, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing, Esra," he sighed.
As far as I could tell, my father did believe me. And he was not upset that I had kept this from him until now. Both were good. I had thought convincing him would be the hard part. I wondered if I should mention that he had already met the Princess, on the night of Violet's Ducal Investiture. That she had even poured him a drink. No. That would be one truth too far for a single afternoon.
"Where are they staying?" he asked.
"Katarina said they'd taken rooms in the Thalos District. I'm not sure where exactly, but it shouldn't be difficult to find them."
"And Julian?" my father asked. "Does he know?"
"I would be truly shocked if he did," I said.
Come to think of it, Katarina had filled Julian's glass too, hadn't she? I wondered what his perfect composure would look like if he did find out.
My father tapped one finger against his desk, his chin resting on his other hand. "You are telling me this now because you want Aziah's help tomorrow." It wasn't a question. I nodded in answer anyway. "Is this because of Count Vance's report?"
I nodded again. "It's clear that something strange is happening. It would be wise to prepare in every capacity we can, while we still can." No matter what came tomorrow, it was hard to believe Aziah Storm couldn't handle it. And if she couldn't, then we were all likely doomed anyway.
"I would not suggest it," my father said. "No. I believe it would be a rather grave mistake." He said it firmly.
I blinked. That was a very firm refusal, for something I had not thought he would refuse at all. "A mistake?"
"There is no doubt that Ser Aziah would be a great help. I would not be surprised if she handled the entire matter herself, and all we had to do was watch." He held my gaze. "The issue is what comes after. Think, Esra. If we go to the First Sword and tell her monsters will assault this city tomorrow, then we are telling the Crown that House Veyne knew of an attack before it ever came. And the very first question anyone will ask -the first question an Inquisitor will ask- is a simple one. How did you know?"
That question had exactly one honest answer. It would lead straight to Cordelia.
"They would send the Inquisition," my father went on. "There is already one of them in the city. And Inquisitors rarely stop at the first answer. They would uncover Greenward's crimes, yes. Then they would keep uncovering. They would turn this entire city over, until every small shadow had been burned away under the light of their righteous justice. It would start at Greenward. It would not end until everyone even slightly involved had gone through their Questioning. More than one noble house has failed to survive their gaze."
I did not have much to say to that. I had said something very similar to Violet, but even I had not thought it went this far. Then again, everyone feared the Inquisition. Lords would sooner bury rivalries that had lasted generations than draw its gaze.
Vaelin hummed in my mind. The first thing I had gotten from him all day. He had reacted to Carrion every time I had laid eyes on the man. It did not feel like fear. It certainly tasted like anger. What that was about, I still did not know.
"And if we drew that kind of attention…" I said.
My father only nodded, and that was enough.
Forget whatever skeletons House Veyne might be keeping that even I did not know of. I had a closet of my own by now. I had killed Duke Indri in his own manor, with his daughter's hands over mine on the hilt. I knew that Artifacts could be made, and I had hidden that knowledge from the world. Either of those alone would be enough to damn me. And then there was the small matter of my not being Esra Veyne at all. No, the very last thing I could afford was an Inquisitor prying through my mind, or through any of my friends'.
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And Julian knew this, of course. It must have been from that very first day, when he'd pretended to buy my lie in that bookshop. It had been convenient for both of us to believe it at the time.
What Julian was gambling on now was for us to show blatant incompetence. The King would not need an Inquisitor to see a hole in our wall, or the ruins of our District. Perhaps we would not be executed, but exile was always an option. He did not know that I knew about his plan, but even if he did know, it changed nothing. The only way I could shine a light on him was to shine one on myself. And I had shadows deeper than his.
"Besides," my father said, "even if you did tell Aziah, I doubt she would help."
"You do?"
"Her loyalty is to Princess Katarina. What do you suppose she would do, if she learned there was to be an attack on this city tomorrow?"
It was almost too obvious, spelled out like that. "She would take the Princess through a Farstep Circle and leave," I said, with complete certainty.
My father nodded. "Aziah Storm is a good woman. But never mistake where her loyalties truly lie."
So we would not have Aziah's help after all. My own Godblade would have to be enough, if it came to that. And there was one thing neither of us said out loud, though I suspected my father knew it as well as I did. If a monster attack were to catch this city completely by surprise, there were good odds Aziah Storm would end up fighting for it anyway, without anyone ever having to ask her. I could think of at least one blond-haired reason she might have no choice. It relied on some unlikely circumstances, and an insane Princess. Thankfully, Aelheim was currently no stranger to either.
"You have done well," my father said. "As well as can be expected, given everything. I understand the desire to be certain you've done all you can. But too often, men stretch that desire far past the point where they can do anything at all."
"I'll keep that in mind, Father," I said. I suspected tonight would be just as sleepless as the last one. Oh well. A couple of bad nights was not enough to kill me.
I left my father in his study. There was nothing left to do save for answering correspondence from some of our minor retainers, and besides, I needed a small break.
Men and women bowed to me as I passed. The guards gave me soldier's salutes, which was odd, but I did not much mind it. My feet were carrying me toward the grounds outside.
Violet, Sere, and Estovan were training. I had wanted to spend some time with my father and go over Count Vance's report, and so I had not joined them. Now was as good a time as any. I looked down at my right hand as I walked. It was indistinguishable from my left, and it felt strong besides. That healer had done her work well. In this world, good healers were worth their weight in gold, and for good reason.
There was a buzzing. It came just as I was about to turn a corner, and it was very nearly enough to make me walk into the wall. I froze. The buzzing came again. Then again. Slowly, I reached into my pocket and drew out a small white box -I had needed something to keep the twin of what I'd given Cordelia. Inside sat a black earcuff, barely the length of my fingernail. It buzzed against my palm.
I fixed it to my right ear, channeled the smallest thread of mana, and then I heard her.
-isn't working, is it? It doesn't matter. I had not expected it to work anyway.
The voice came through clear, and it came only for me. It was Cordelia.
It works just fine, Cordelia, I answered. Sorry. I was keeping it in my pocket.
There was silence on the other end.
What a strange device, I heard at last. Truly, it is no wonder our best craftsmen have never replicated such a thing.
It was a small marvel. The device -House Solair called it the Whispering Cuff- carried a person's words to its twin over a great distance, projected straight into the wearer's ear. One did not have to speak a single word aloud. The principle behind it was apparently something like bone-conduction, though I did not know the specifics. Its range was several dozen miles. More than enough to cover the entirety of Aelheim.
The only risks were the whisper of mana it needed, and that faint buzzing. Otherwise, it was very nearly perfect.
I'm glad it works, I said. I was starting to worry something had gone wrong.
It was difficult to find time to speak like this. My obligations and my education have kept me… busier than I expected.
I knew exactly what those obligations were, and the knowing made something in my chest clench. Deportment, etiquette, and presentation, right?
There was silence at that, for several long seconds. Then came laughter. The faintest sound of a giggle, there and gone. For some reason, I had not thought the device could carry even that.
Yes. Those three, and more. Nothing less than perfection will do for a daughter of House Greenward.
That was sarcasm, and it came through clearly enough. I was walking again, and this time I was walking to my room. There were questions to ask, and now that I could quite literally speak to Cordelia mind to mind, I found it hard to know which to ask first.
Are you well, Cordelia? I asked her.
I am- There were no impressions, not like with Vaelin, and yet I felt the hesitation all the same. I am better than I was.
But not as well as I would like to be. She did not say that part. I heard it anyway.
And you? Cordelia asked. Are you well? The Qualifier looked- There was a brief pause. You were injured, were you not?
There was genuine concern in that voice. Enough of it to surprise me.
I'm well. The healer took care of everything. Right now, I'm as good as new!
I realized I was smiling at nothing in the middle of a hallway. A passing maid gave me an odd look. I moved past her and stepped into my room. There was no real reason to come here, but it felt like the right kind of place for a conversation like this.
That's good, Cordelia said. Then, Those children from North Bairam are… eerie.
No doubt this was a rather popular opinion. Sharon Nox's Gift was downright unsightly, and all of the newspapers had seemed genuinely confused by Aaron Nox's qualifier. I almost told Cordelia about the vision. But finding out how to convey that my sword was showing me visions without sounding insane was difficult. It could wait. And with any luck, it would not need addressing at all.
Hopefully, I'll simply avoid them in the next round. Surely drawing one of them used up all of my bad luck for this tournament.
Hopefully, Cordelia agreed.
I walked over and dropped myself onto the bed, and lay there, staring up at the ceiling far above.
Tomorrow is the day, isn't it? Cordelia said. There was no doubt at all about what she meant.
Yes. I've done just about everything I can. The only thing left now is to wait. I hesitated. If everything goes well tomorrow, and I hope it does…that will only make things harder for you.
I know. Her voice did not so much as waver. It is fine. I have read every book in that bookshop thrice over already. There is no need to do it a fourth time.
I did not know what to say to that. My fist clenched, and something hot burned inside my chest. For a while, I said nothing at all.
You're still worried, Cordelia said. And still guilty.
I blinked. It was a good thing that these cuffs only carried thought. There was no way for her to know that my face had gone faintly red.
Yes, I admitted. Are you going to tell me that I shouldn't be?
No. It's good that you are. It's why I quite like you, Esra Veyne.
It was a very good thing that Cordelia could not see my face right now. And for some reason, though she was so very far away, I smelled, faintly, the scent of lilies.
Some reason. Indeed. The murmur came from somewhere in the back of my mind.
And just what is that supposed to mean?
What? Even Cordelia's thoughts sounded confused.
That's- sorry. I was talking to the sword, I explained. It seemed she could hear my replies to Vaelin, but could not hear the sword itself. I would have to remember that, preferably before I embarrassed myself with it.
Ah, Cordelia said. I apologize for adding yet another voice to your head.
I grinned. No apologies needed. Yours is far better anyway.
Vaelin grumbled at this. He actually grumbled. It was almost amusing, that even a sword could be so petty.
Esra. Tell me about things.
Things? I asked.
About nothing important, Cordelia said. I do not know when next I will be able to converse like this. I- I find I wish to talk about something mundane. I'd like to know how Sere is doing. And about Violet. And that boy who always follows you around -Damian, I believe? If that's alright with you, of course.
I smiled wider. And again there was that scent, stronger this time.
Always, I said.
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