Reddi cleared his throat behind them. “Perhaps you should discuss it while traveling to the mansion, sir. If the governor really is planning to address the crowds…”
“Yes,” Aradel said. “Innate suddenly appointed me lord high constable; that immediately worries me about what other kinds of impulsive things he’s capable of doing tonight. Let’s do this on the move, Colms. Reddi, bring along the rest of the constables as smartly as you can. I’m going to the mansion ahead of you.”
Marasi nodded. The things she wanted to discuss would be best said in the privacy of a carriage anyway.
Except …
Idiot, she thought as Aradel jogged over to a group of horses in constable livery, reins held by a corporal. The carriage she’d been contemplating pulled away, loaded with equipment most likely. Reddi grinned at her smugly.
Marasi sighed. She’d been looking forward to maintaining her decorum tonight. Ah well. She walked over and took a set of reins.
Aradel was already in his saddle. He glanced at her, then raised a hand to his head. “Oh, of course. I didn’t think—”
Marasi swung up into the saddle, awkwardly bunching her skirt up between her legs and sitting on part of it, revealing a generous expanse of leg. “It occurs to me, sir,” Marasi noted, “that lady constable uniforms could be distinctly more utilitarian.”
“We’ll … make a note of it, Lieutenant Colms.” He glanced toward the retreating carriage. “If you wish—”
“Sir,” Marasi said, “I believe the city is on fire. Perhaps we can discuss feminine modesty on another occasion?”
“Of course.” He nodded and they set off in a clatter of hooves, trailed by two corporals with rifles in the scabbards on their saddles. The four horses quickly outpaced the larger group of constables, and even the carriage, as they rode through the mists.
Marasi was glad of the darkness, as it hid her furious blush. In compensation, she had gained the memory of Reddi’s stunned expression, utterly shocked by what she’d done.
Well, why shouldn’t she show her legs? Historical precedent, and simple practicality, demanded that women be allowed into all professions. What lord would turn away a Thug or a Bloodmaker from his guards just because she had breasts? What constable office would pass up the chance to have every Tineye or Coinshot they could get? What bank wouldn’t jump at the chance to employ a Terriswoman with copperminds?
The thing was, woman constables were also expected to be models of ladylike behavior. A holdover from the old days, reinforced by the speeches of Lady Allrianne Ladrian soon after the Catacendre. There was just this blunt expectation that you would strive to remain feminine at the same time as you did your job. A heavy double standard to bear. At times Marasi didn’t mind. She liked dresses, and nice hair, and solving problems with a careful word instead of a fist to the face. To her it was perfectly reasonable to be feminine and a constable. But did the men ever have to worry about being properly masculine while doing their jobs?
One social problem at a time, Marasi, she admonished herself, riding alongside Aradel. Though she was going to buy some rusting trousers. Riding this way was cold.
“You ride well,” Aradel called to her as they slowed slightly from their initial burst away from the others. He led the way across a canal bridge, cutting across the middle of the Third Octant to get to the Second.
“I’ve had plenty of practice,” Marasi said.
“That’s uncommon in the city these days,” Aradel noted. “A hobby?”
“You could say that,” Marasi said, blushing as she remembered her girlish fascination with the Roughs, lawmen, and Allomancer Jak stories. When her friends—well, acquaintances—had been given new coats for their birthdays, she’d begged for a Roughs duster and hat.
Pure foolishness, of course. She’d completely grown out of that.
“What is it you wanted to tell me?” Aradel called.
“Could we slow further for a moment?”
He nodded and obliged, to the point where the horses were maintaining a brisk walk. Marasi opened the purse she’d slung over her shoulder and thrust the letters at Aradel. She hadn’t consciously realized how eager she’d been to pass them on to someone else, so that the responsibility they represented wouldn’t rest solely on her.
Aradel took them. “What’s this?” he asked quietly.
“You remember telling me to snoop around the governor’s place, if I got the chance?”
“I remember telling you—with great circumspection—to keep your eyes open, Lieutenant.”
“I did, sir. I kept my hands open too. In case something damning happened to fall into them.”
“Harmony. What did you find?”