“No, but you’re both not me in different ways.” She exhaled. “Yes, I was afraid you’d turn me to ash if I let Bellusdeo follow me—not, as I mentioned, that I could stop her. But... I’m also really worried about Moran.”
“This would be Sergeant Carafel? Moran dar Carafel?”
“Yes. I know you don’t like dealing with the Caste Courts—” Kaylin stopped herself. If she could have bitten off her tongue, she would have done it.
The Dragon’s eyes shaded to orange.
“No one complains about it,” she said quickly—and inaccurately. “But...the Empire is yours. Having to make exceptions so that the Barrani—mostly—can skirt Imperial Law is never going to be something we appreciate.”
One brow rose; the scar across his face had whitened. “Your Sergeant doesn’t care for it.”
This was the real reason why talking to the Emperor at all was so dangerous. Kaylin had once assumed that no one could relax in the Imperial Presence—but the upside to that was no one else could open their mouth so wide they could fit both feet in, and still have room for leg.
“Have you met Sergeant Kassan?” she asked.
“Yes. Not often. He is Leontine, and the Leontines are not notably formal. While he has adapted to the Barrani language and laws, its general customs have escaped him almost entirely. I will not hold the Sergeant responsible for anything you say.”
“Thank you. No, really—thank you. Marcus is—Leontines are—more like me than the Barrani or the Dragons. They’re sometimes more like me than the rest of the humans in the office. It’s probably why we only have one Leontine. Marcus doesn’t tell us secrets. Most people don’t think he has any.”
“I am well aware of the Hawks’ view on Caste Court exemptions. If the Hawklord, the Wolflord and the Swordlord are more circumspect—and, Private, they are vastly more circumspect—they are nonetheless forthright. Do you know why I encourage racial integration among the Hawks, no matter how difficult it might otherwise be? It is precisely because I wish people to understand that there are costs to exemptions, and a diminishing respect for Imperial Law.
“If it is not clear to you, the decision involving Caste Courts and single-race crimes was a pragmatic one, and it was created almost in its entirety because of the Barrani. I did not wish my city to turn into a war zone. The Dragons would survive. The Barrani would survive.”
“But not the rest of us.”
“What do you think?”
“The Aerians might survive it.”
“You have never seen the flights at war, if you believe that. I have. I am not fond of the exemptions. I am not fond of dealing with the representatives of the Caste Courts. I find it difficult not to reduce them to ash.”
Kaylin remembered to close her mouth, because it was kind of hanging open, as if she’d forgotten it was attached to the rest of her face.
“Surely, given your own feelings, that cannot surprise you? I understand the concerns of the Aerian Caste Court—they were made quite clear. I am not, however, Aerian.” His smile was sharp and cold. “And as I am not, matters which the Aerian Caste Court consider of import are not matters to which I must personally attend. It pleases me to note that they are stymied. If you fear censure from me, you will have to look elsewhere.
“For instance, if Bellusdeo is harmed in the fiefs, I will be...very angry.”
This was what Kaylin had expected.
“But she would be quick to point out that were it not for your interference—in the fiefs, no less—she would not even be here. She would, of course, take longer to express the sentiment, and she would speak our native tongue. I do not propose to do so in the streets of my city.” He slowed his pace. “I find this entire interaction taxing. But it is enlightening. Having made the decision to respect Bellusdeo, you still worry.”
“Yes. But I think...I think that’s natural. I mean, for mortals, it’s natural. We kind of worry more about the people we know and care about.”
“And you do not worry about yourself? Given the differences in power between a mortal and a Dragon, does this not strike you as ridiculous?”
“...No.”
“You are about to enlighten me as to the reason.”
“I don’t really have a good reason. I live inside my mortal body. I know what I’ve survived. I know how much some of it hurt, and how much some of it terrified me. My own death, when it happens, isn’t likely to upset me, because I won’t be here. If someone else dies on me, I’ll still be here for the rest of my life, and I’ll be looking at a big, bleeding hole where they used to be.
“So... I guess it’s still about me. And having had to make that clear to you, I can’t let that fear and that—that selfishness, govern what I do. But for me, it’s hard. I have no idea what’s going on in today’s investigation yet, but it smells. I know breaking the law is always bad. I’m paid to know it. There are some things I hold my nose and just enforce. Sorry.
“But this case—it’s got nothing to do with money. It’s probably got something to do with power, if it has anything to do with people at all.”
Squawk.