a sense of dislocation seeing the changes and improvements. It was as if the real city had been spirited away in the night and replaced with the Antean image of what Suddapal should be. It would have been comic if it hadn’t meant that the city as it had been was gone. That a thing once changed could only change again, and not live backward.
That afternoon she was in her room wearing a silk shift and trying on dresses in which she could meet Geder Palliako. A long-sleeved green velvet was her favorite at present, but there was a butter-yellow one with a more Antean cut that displayed her figure better, even though the color was fairly hideous. The scratch came at the doorway as she held the yellow to her chest and tried to decide whether there was a scarf she could add that forgave its failings.
“Come in,” she said, half aware that she wasn’t, strictly speaking, dressed and she didn’t know whom she’d just invited in. It wasn’t something she cared about.
Yardem entered. He was wearing leathers much like his training armor, only with touches of green at the throat and shoulders. Cithrin wondered what Geder would make of it if he arrived to find her encased in armor. The idea was almost funny.
“Magistra,” Yardem said. “How are you?”
“Debased and horrified,” she said lightly, making a joke of it. “And you?”
“Well enough. I needed to speak with you for a moment about the Lord Regent.”
“Speak away. But first, look at these. Which do you think would be the better one to wear when he comes?”
Yardem flicked a jingling ear and sat on the bed.
“Green,” he said. “It’s warmer. The Lord Regent’s forces will be here in the morning.”
“They will,” Cithrin said.
“The plan is you make yourself into Palliako’s bed slave.”
“I prefer the term consort,” Cithrin said, putting down the yellow and picking up the green. The color really was much better. Green it was, then.
“I’m going to ask you to reconsider.”
“What? You mean about Geder?”
“Yes.”
The Tralgu looked up at her. His dark eyes were unreadable. Cithrin felt a knot in her throat and coughed to clear it.
“I can’t,” she said. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Yardem nodded, but his frown undercut the motion. “Walk through that with me?”
Cithrin started undoing the pearl buttons that ran down the green dress’s back, her fingernail clicking against the hard little spheres. The third one was a degree larger than the others, and she had to force it through its hole.
“I have something Geder Palliako has decided he wants. In exchange for it, I can help more people. If I can just play the role, the rewards in information alone will be beyond any normal price.”
“If,” he said.
“You think I can’t maintain the subterfuge?” Cithrin said with a grin as she stepped into the dress and pulled the sleeves onto her arms.
“I don’t,” Yardem said. “A year ago, I think you could have. But not now.”
“You don’t give me credit,” she said. “Button this for me, would you?”
Yardem rose with something like a sigh and began fastening the stays and buttons up her back. It was possible that the green wasn’t elegant enough for the occasion. Cithrin wasn’t certain of the etiquette of giving herself over to the role of Geder’s lover. Maybe a dress wasn’t called for at all. Maybe she should greet him in a little rouge and a smile. She scowled at the thought and pulled the sleeves a bit straighter.
“Well, I think you’re mistaken,” she said. “And considering the good we can do, it’s the obvious risk to take.”
“It’s only a risk if you don’t know the outcome, ma’am,” Yardem said, fixing the last and highest of the buttons. His knuckle brushed the nape of her neck as he finished. “I’d like you to take a moment to pray with me.”
“What?” Cithrin asked, turning toward him. Yardem held out his hands to her, palms up. She hesitated for a moment, then took them. Yardem closed his eyes and lowered his head, and she followed his example. As soon as her eyes were closed, the chaos of her mind whipped at her. She tried to gather herself enough to pray or think kind thoughts or whatever it was she was intended to do, but it was as much as she could manage just to keep from opening her eyes, pulling away, and finding some other small task to distract her. She felt a brief but intense resentment of Yardem