Page 280

Taly snorted, wiping at her eyes.

“And she would’ve said…” The hand on her shoulder tightened. “She would’ve said that it gets easier. That you can… you can learn how to give speeches. And that you eventually figure out how to deal with the people. She would’ve said that words are always better than weapons and ego is easy to manipulate. And that our goal tonight, our goal always, is to speak for the people whose voices are never heard.”

Taly toyed with the beading on her gold lace glove. “I wish I could remember her.”

Ivain kissed her temple. “One day, you will.”

It was a lie. They both knew that if those memories hadn’t returned by now, they were as good as gone. But it still felt good to hear.

Ivain stood, holding out a hand. “Come on,” he said. “I can hear Sarina calling for us.”

So could Taly, but she’d been ignoring it.

As they were walking back, she bumped his shoulder. “You’re going to do great, Da’naan.”

Ivain smiled a bit, patting the hand that she looped through his arm. “I’m really going to miss you when the pigeons come for their revenge.”

Taly nodded gravely. “Tell my story.”

Chapter 56

Reclining against the backdrop of his family’s banner, Kato surveyed the room—the stage where the nobility idled in their finery, the people still flowing in. He stared at a Lowborn boy long enough that he ducked his head, sidling closer to what could’ve been a mother or a sister as they waited to go up one of the many sets of stairs leading to the upper terraces.

Kato knew his role at these sorts of functions. And he played it well. The fallen prince, full of meanness and spite. He’d fallen back into that old character with an ease that left him feeling… unsettled.

“Sire,” a black-eyed man from Agno crooned, bowing.

Kato waved him on. Too easy. All of it was too easy. He’d already broken up three alliances. And the couple arguing in the corner—that was also him. He’d spent the early part of the evening eavesdropping and figuring out the juiciest gossip. Then he’d pretended to be an usher, rearranging seats and putting all the wrong people together. He had six fights going on in terraces one, three, and four, with a seventh just getting underway down on the main stage.

Not for any good reason. He’d just been bored.

He wasstillbored, and his heel tapped idly. If something interesting didn’t happen soon, he was considering starting a war.

Just a small one. Mostly trade. There was this little strait that served as the dividing line between Bontu and Tira. Yes, an endangered species of otter called it home, but this was getting dire.

“Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.”

Well, there went his war. The otters in the strait would undoubtedly be happy. Kato smirked as their unwitting savior sat down beside him.

Aimee Bryer.

He sat up a bit, crossing one leg over the other and watching as she smoothed a hand over the gauzy red and gold layers of her dress. She was beautiful, but then water mages always were. Not a hair out of place, and who knew how many glamours masked her face—reshaping her nose and mouth, deepening the sapphire blue of her eyes into something rarer and more coveted.

He could sense at least six layers of enchantment, enough that for all he knew she could be naked under there. She could be a literal ogre, and no one would ever be the wiser.

“Thank the Shards,” he said. “I was this close to death by boredom. Amuse me, peasant.”

Aimee’s lips thinned. “Entertain yourself. I’m not your personal jester.”

“Oh, come on. You’re more fun than killing otters. Barely, but still.”

“Wow. I’m so… honored?”

“When is this thing supposed to start?”

“When everyone’s seated.”

Kato groaned. “That’s going to takesolong.”