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“You don’t want Artis to build a bridge?”

My voice is dry. “Not one that costs four times as much as it should.”

Her mouth twists as she considers the implications of that, but then she looks back at the papers in front of her. “So Sunkeep has few deaths, but Emberridge and Moonlight Plains seem to have a healthier population—”

“Because they control the medicine. Allisander can’t guard his entire wall with dying soldiers.”

She looks up. “I’ve spent two hours reading all this to come to the same conclusions everyone here already knows, haven’t I?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I pull my pocket watch free. “You’ve spent three hours.”

She glances at the pitch-dark window, then at the brightly lit chandelier overhead. “It’s a wonder anyone here ever sleeps, when you can chase the night away.” She stifles a yawn.

“You should retire.”

“I thought you said this was going to take all night.”

“I said it was going to take me all night.” I set my own papers on the table. “I’ll see you to your room.”

“No!” She grabs hold of the armrests like I’m going to physically wrestle her out of her seat. “This is important.”

“I know.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You knew people here were taking more medicine than they needed. Why didn’t you do something about it?”

“For one thing,” I say, “I don’t know that. Not with certainty. You’re the apothecary, not me.”

“You do know it. You’ve seen it.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it.” I pause. “And I’ve still seen people die, Tessa.”

She stares back at me, and I feel as though a wall of ice has formed between us.

“I’m not challenging your knowledge,” I say. “But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have proof. And where would I say I’d gotten it? Do you think the King’s Justice could suddenly have suggestions on dosages and additives? We get hundreds of messages at the palace gates every day. A good portion of them declare the fevers are some kind of plot to keep the people subdued. Many promise miracle cures. None work.”

Her eyes narrow further. “Mine isn’t a miracle cure. It’s better medicine.”

“I know. But the Royal Sector is rationed just like all the others. Anyone who takes more than their allotted dose is spending their own silver. I can’t control what people want to spend their money on.”

“Your brother can.”

“Oh, you think so?” My eyebrows go up. “I cannot simply take a hypothesis, snap my fingers, and have my brother turn it into a royal decree.”

She frowns.

I lean in against the table. “Can you imagine the outcry if Harristan told his subjects they couldn’t purchase as much as they want? Can you imagine Allisander’s reaction? Or . . . ?anyone’s, really? The hoarding, the panic? Every sector has pockets of wealth. Every consul purchases more than their allotment. There is too much fear already. Even if you are able to prove that we can make the medicine stretch further, it may not matter.”

“But your brother is the king! Why can’t he make Allisander provide more?”

“By law, the consuls can set the prices on their sector’s exports. But say Harristan overturned that law, and suddenly Moonflower petals were free. Who pays the thousands of people who harvest the petals in Allisander’s sector? What motivation does Allisander have to keep his fields in good condition?” I pause. “And then, what’s to stop other sectors from hoarding their goods in fear that we’ll seize those assets as well?”

I see her expression and sigh. “We buy what we can from the taxes we collect, and we distribute it among the people. But there is never enough: not enough silver, not enough Moonflower. Ruling a country takes more than just medicine, Tessa. We’re stretched thin everywhere. Jonas asked for too much money to build his bridge—but he surely still needs one. His people are just too sick to efficiently build it.”

Her frown deepens. “So you think this is hopeless.”

“Sickness has plagued Kandala for years. If royal physicians and advisers have not been able to discover a pattern as to who is affected by the fevers, then we are unlikely to overturn it in this room in the dead of night.”

She picks up her piece of paper again, sighing through her teeth. “Well, they haven’t had to.”