“Yes, Highness.”
He pulled all the pins out of his hair and unbraided it—his scalp ached even more to be released from that tight binding—and spent the next half hour staring into nothing and reviewing every word that he had said to anyone that day, inspecting each interaction from several angles to determine which ones he should be crushingly embarrassed about, and to what degree.
Eozena saved him from himself. Coming in, she shut the door and dragged the chair over to the edge of the bed, turning it around so she could straddle it with her arms crossed on the back. “Rough day?”
“Areyouangry at me?”
“Nope,” she said. “A tiny bit exasperated, perhaps. Is everyone else angry?”
“I think so.” He took a miserable breath. “Lieutenant Armagan is shutting down the investigation.”
She frowned. “Already?”
“That was my response too.” He rolled onto his side to face her. “Did I ruin it?”
“How could you have ruined it?”
“I must have, somehow.”
She shook her head. “Nonsense. But what did Armagan say?”
“Just that there wasn’t any progress, no clues, no leads. Çe said it would be a waste of time, and that çe already informed Zeliha and Minister Selim that çe was going to recommend shutting it all down.” Only that thing about the fireworks—which meant the thieves had been prepared, which meant . . . probably nothing except that the gossip mill in the palace was in fine working condition. It had not been a secret that Her Majesty was pregnant, and it definitely wouldn’t have been a secret when her labors started.
“That’s unusual,” Eozena said, her frown deepening. “It’s been—what, just over a week?”
Kadou pushed himself up to a seat, crossing his legs tailor-style and picking at a loose thread in the quilt. “I didn’t know what else to say—I barely know what I’mdoingwith this. Just . . . taking reports and saying, ‘Yes, good job,’ right? If Armagan says there’s no point, then who am I to contradict that?”
“You could ask çem for the reports. You could review everything yourself. You could go back down to the Shipbuilder’s Guild. I’d go with you.”
Kadou squirmed with discomfort. “I don’t know.” His nerves were getting worse now—just the thought of indicating to Armagan that Kadou thought çir work was lacking in some way was too horrific to contemplate at the moment. It was all too much.
“Are you all right? Are you getting sick?”
“Maybe.” That was easier than explaining—it was one thing to admit his cowardice to Evemer, who already was contemptuous of him. It was another to say it to Eozena, who might well be the only person in the palace who didn’t hate him. “Do you . . .” He swallowed. “Do you know where Tadek is? He hasn’t come.”
“Of course he hasn’t. He’s not a kahya anymore. He isn’t even allowed into the Gold Court except by royal decree, and . . . you haven’t decreed it. They found him a room in the cadet dormitory for his lodging, I think.”
Kadou swore and rolled out of bed. The cadet dormitory? For someone who, two days ago, was a kahya of the core-guard? Gods, how humiliating it must be—Tadek of all people didn’t deserve to be humiliated.
Kadou went immediately to his writing desk, scrawled out a note, and marked it with his personal seal in sapphire-blue wax. “So,” Eozena said, behind him. “You’re going to continue things with him, then?”
He froze. “What do you mean?”
“You’re summoning him to your side right away? What’s he going to do here? Will you keep him in jewels and silks?”
Kadou flushed and dropped his eyes. “No. Just . . . he could serve as my valet, I suppose. Take some of the burden off the kahyalar.” Then he wouldn’t have to suffer through any more of those endless awkward silences with Evemer, or watch him glower from across the room, or have his hair braided so tightly that it hurt him all day. Strange how someone who had at first made Kadou look twice was now making him want to look anywherebutat him. “How long have you known about me and Tadek?” he asked. “It was the palace’s gossip network, I suppose?”
“I’m commander of the guard, Kadou. I’m privy to ninety percent of the intelligence the crown receives. And . . . well, yes, you’re partly right; kahyalar aregossips. If it was supposed to be a state secret, you could have done better.”
“It wasn’t. Not really.”
“You were reasonably discreet, except for that little romantic walk at the party the other night. I certainly don’t blame you for having something with him. From all I’ve witnessed and heard, it seems you treated each other well, before yesterday’s . . . incident.” Her expression turned sympathetic. “And I know it must be lonely. I imagine that it felt easier to turn to someone who had already sworn himself to you, someone you knew you could trust. Someone who made you feel safe.”
Kadou nodded miserably. Not many courtiers his own age in the palace, and fewer that he was interested in, and fewer still who returned his interest. The boating accident that had killed his parents when he was ten years old had also taken a great many of the young people who should have grown to be Kadou’s peers and friends. These days, the palace was only crowded around holidays and during the winter—the rest of the year, the families of the provincial governors resided at their country holdings. The kahyalar assigned to his service, rotating out every six or eight months, were and had always been the greatest part of his social life. As for them, there were many who, regardless of interest, wouldn’t cross that line or be comfortable with him crossing it. Especially in the core-guard, the ones Kadou had the most interaction with—they had a tendency to be upright and tight-laced, as Evemer was.
He looked down at the letter in his hand. He was letting his weakness get the better of him again. One bad day and he was already backsliding, ready to dump everything on Tadek . . .
But what if Tadek was angry too? What if he would have preferred to be dismissed from the kahyalar corps entirely? Kadou hadn’t asked what he wanted. He’d just . . . done what he thought he had to do to protect someone who was almost a friend. But if that had been some new violation of correct and caring behavior, then . . . then Tadek would be well within his rights to be furious at Kadou.