The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,109

two women there as well. The eldest, Razu, can spin some rather exciting tales of the hospital’s past. Their magic is quite formidable, and I suspect she and her partner would be happy to help restore the place.”

Nahri swallowed as the queen looked at her; there was far too much knowing in her eyes. But Nahri also suspected Hatset wouldn’t betray her—not with Ali at her side. “That’s my hope as well.”

Ghassan was studying his family with open suspicion, but he let it go, returning his attention to Nahri. “That sounds like an admirable fantasy, Banu Nahida, but even if you had a building, you’re barely able to keep up with your patients now. How could you possibly treat an entire hospital’s worth?”

Nahri was prepared for the question. Her mind had been turning since she’d left the Sens. Subha’s father had arrived alone in Daevabad with two centuries of medical knowledge and used it to train others. Surely, Nahri could do the same. “I’ll have help,” she explained. “I want to start teaching students.”

Genuine surprise lit the king’s face. “Students? I was under the impression most of the healing you do couldn’t be accomplished by someone without your blood.”

“A lot can’t,” Nahri admitted. “But many of the basics can. With proper training, I could shift some of my workload to others. We could see more people, and I could let them stay on to properly recover instead of booting them out of the infirmary as quickly as possible.”

Ghassan took a sip of his coffee. “And earn some acclaim from your tribe, no doubt, for recovering an institution once so important to the Daevas.”

“This isn’t about tribal politics or pride,” Nahri argued. “And I don’t intend to only teach Daevas; I’ll take students from any background if they’re bright and willing.”

“And between your duties in the infirmary now and teaching students, when exactly are you going to have time to oversee the rebuilding of a ruined, ancient hospital? Not to mention the cost … ah.” His eyes narrowed on Ali. “The ‘we.’ A preposterously expensive public works project. Little wonder you have involved yourself.”

“You did tell me to find something to do,” Ali replied, a petty edge in his voice. Nahri clenched her teacup, resisting the urge to hurl it at his head. If she could check her temper, so could he. “But it wouldn’t be preposterously expensive if handled correctly,” Ali continued, gesturing to the armful of scrolls he’d brought. “I’ve been running estimates with people at the Treasury, and we’ve devised numerous proposals.” He plucked up one of the fatter scrolls. “I know how important financials are, so I haven’t spared any details.”

Ghassan held up a hand. “Spare the details. We will be sitting here until Navasatem if I let you start talking about the specifics. I can have my own accountants check your proposals later.” He tilted his head. “I am, after all, quite aware of your cleverness when it comes to numbers.”

The words hung between them for a moment. Unwilling to let whatever drama swirled around her in-laws eclipse her hospital, Nahri spoke quickly. “I’m willing to offer a portion of my dowry as well, enough to cover the materials and room and board for an initial class of twenty students. And once we start seeing patients, we can charge those who can pay on a sliding scale.”

“I also thought the queen might assist me in meeting with the Ayaanle trade envoy,” Ali added. “Should Ta Ntry find a way to make restitutions for its unfortunate tax situation, we could use the revenue to fix a lot of things in Daevabad.”

Hatset raised her palms, smiling sweetly. “It can be difficult to predict financial matters.”

Ali returned her smile. “Not when they can be audited, Amma,” he said pleasantly.

Hatset drew up, looking taken aback, and Nahri saw a far more genuine smile spread across Ghassan’s face.

But it was not a pleasure that erased his skepticism. “And the staffing cost?” he asked. “However formidable their magic, a handful of freed djinn are not going to be able to build and maintain a complex of that size.”

Before Nahri could respond, Ali spoke up again. “I had been thinking in another direction.” He toyed with a length of prayer beads looped around his wrist. “I’d like to tear down the shafit … exchange … in the Grand Bazaar and reuse its materials, as well as free those being held there. I’ll offer them—and any shafit qualified and interested—employment in the hospital restoration.”

Nahri