“And where did he learn to hate?” I demanded, glaring at him. “Because you don’t hate the way he does. Danae doesn’t. How can you defend him?”
“He’s my brother,” Galen said, bristling. “Sometimes he’s been a bad king in order to protect his siblings, and sometimes he’s been a great king and sacrificed our needs for the many. I don’t envy him any of the choices he has had to make.” Galen’s jaw worked. “How can you even ask me such a question? You would never condemn your brother, and I would never ask you to.”
I thought of Rian, taking lives when I hadn’t thought he was capable of it. That, at least, I did understand. But I couldn’t will myself to bring Rian into this argument, so I stayed silent.
“He does what he believes is right,” he continued, issuing a heavy sigh. “I saw what Calix did with you in the mills. And the quaesitori—they developed an irrigation system to get water to crops in droughts,” he said. “That arguably changed the nation. And they developed an incendiary powder from a yellow mineral found in the mountains and sugar, of all things, and that’s been able to save hundreds of men from breaking their backs in the mines.”
“Incendiary powder?” I asked. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It can catch fire,” he said. “But instead of burning like oil, it bursts—particularly when it’s contained rather than out in the open.”
“And that saves lives?” I asked.
“Mining is hard work. If we can save a single hour of manual labor, it’s a great gift.” His shoulders lifted. “But I also see the danger in that substance. Calix wants to fit it onto ships to allow us to disable our enemies without engaging them on the water.”
“But that prison,” I said, shuddering. “I cannot reconcile what they’re doing there.”
“What prison?” he asked, his sharp face creasing with displeasure.
“You didn’t know?” I asked, shaking my head. “The Summer Palace is home to Elementae who are being used for his inquest.” I thought of the bruises and all the blood, and I couldn’t form any more words.
His gaze shot out over the enclosures, fixing on the palace in the hills like he could see right through the walls. “I will look into that.”
I shook my head. “How is that different from this?” I asked, sweeping my hand out. “They are slaves for a different service.”
His eyes met mine. “It is,” he said.
I wasn’t sure what his promise to “look into that” would yield, but it did ease my mind a little. “Thank you,” I said softly.
“What will you do?” he asked.
“Do?” I repeated bitterly. “What do you do?”
“I make his reign secure,” he told me. “I make it so that he doesn’t have to make such terrible choices anymore.”
“And you lessen the impact when he does,” I said. “Like with those men guarding the gold.”
A muscle flared in his jaw, but he nodded, looking away from me.
I sighed. “Maybe I can’t fix him, or change him. But I can change the world that our children inherit. My children won’t learn to hate. They will learn to rule with grace and wisdom, and they will change this country when they do.”
“That’s a beautiful vision,” he said, his voice rough and soft. “I will defend them with my life.” He swallowed, the action moving his throat. “You must be hungry,” he said. “I’ll call for some food to be sent up.”
With a sigh, I nodded. He turned away from me. Curious, I followed the pathway to the edge, chasing the pink splash of light that heralded the sunset. Finding that the balcony actually turned the corner, I rounded it. There was another door to another room, and this part faced the water, the glorious sun just starting to make the sky glow above the horizon.
The water looked peaceful and distant, but the view was marred by the deep scars in the earth for the shipbuilding dry docks. From the Oculus I could see there were gates that barely restrained the ocean tide; I could only imagine the fury of the ocean as those gates were lifted.
It made me think of Kata and her gifts and, inescapably, about my own.
I heard a shrieking call and turned to see Osmost, flapping his wings to slow down and land on the railing beside me. “What are you doing here?” I murmured, smiling at the bird. He sidled closer to me, and I petted his head slowly. We were used to each other, but Osmost had always made it very clear that he was still a wild animal, and I had the scars to prove that.
Watch the skies, Kairos had told me. I shook my head with a smile—he had sent his hawk to watch after me when he couldn’t. And this Oculus closely resembled a human bird’s nest, so Osmost was fairly delighted.
I dug my fingers into his feathers, scratching the base of his wings, and he raised them a little, making a fond clicking noise at me. I could see the town that Galen mentioned—the only place around the wide harbor with structures that weren’t made of stone, sweet little buildings that looked like they had been there forever. Off one of the docks, it looked like people—maybe even children—were running down, jumping high, and splashing into the water.
I sighed, leaning on the railing. It was nice to know there was a little happiness in this bleak city.
Osmost’s head cocked, and his wings fluffed once before he leaped back from the balcony, diving low and out of sight. Galen rounded the corner a moment later, not coming close to me. “You should eat,” he said. “My men brought some food for you.”
“What about Calix?” I asked, turning to him.
“He never has a good sense of time when he’s with the quaesitori,” he said. “He may be a while. But I’ve had the men clear the barracks—you can sleep here.”
This made me feel foolish for having demanded a different location than the Summer Palace, though I know he didn’t mean it that way. “I’m sorry to displace your men,” I said.
“You are their queen,” he said, his face nearly hinting at a smile. “They’d jump off the balcony for you, so this is a small request.”
“Still,” I said, and walked toward him, going into the room, where a tray of food sat on a table covered with maps.
Theron stopped when we entered the room, a chicken leg sticking out of his mouth. He hurriedly pulled the bone out and dropped it onto a plate as Galen snorted. “Has the queen stopped feeding you?” Galen asked.
I smiled at him as I sat, and he looked to Galen. “No,” Theron said, “but the king was quite fixed in his attention, and I don’t believe the queen has eaten all day. Which also, incidentally, means I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Then we shall remedy that,” Galen said, also pulling a chair over as Theron sat back in his own, going to work again on the poor chicken. I took a piece of chicken, though I attempted to eat it slightly more delicately than Theron. There were also bread and fruits and cheeses, and Galen poured us wine.
“Are we leaving tonight?” Theron asked Galen.
“No, I believe the king wants to go in the morning,” Galen replied. “I’ve sent word to Zeph and the rest of the Saepia. They should be here by then to properly escort the queen.”