Julian Greenward stepped down from his carriage, and he had somehow found room for more emeralds.
There were a great many of them, as there always were. They lined the collar of his coat and flashed at both cuffs. A larger one sat in the pin at his throat. The buttons might have been emerald too. I did not look close enough to be certain. Once I might have thought the man wealthy for them. I knew better now. I had stood in a room with Duke Solair, who wore plain dark cloth and no jewels at all and could buy Julian twice over. All that green, and it only made me think that a House whose colors were green did not have to take the matter quite this far.
"Lady Veyne." He was smiling, and the smile reached his eyes. "You should have sent word that you meant to visit. I would have made a more prepared host."
Cordelia stood two paces behind him. Her gown was deep emerald silk. Her dark hair fell in careful waves. Her smile was warm and entirely fabricated. And she looked at a point somewhere just past my shoulder, at nothing at all. Her right hand clenched, as if clutching something. My eyes wanted to go to her. I dragged them back to her father before they could.
I wondered why he brought her here at all. Perhaps it was a kind of test. Whether it was a test for her or for me only the Gods could decide. It might have been for both.
I risked one glance at Cordelia’s hands. The ring was not turning.
I turned back to her father and made my voice polite and formal. The kind of voice that would be appropriate for two people of station meeting out in public. "Duke Greenward. It seems there has been a mistake. Your hired swords are barring my men from the wall they are sworn to defend."
"Oh?" He spread his hands. "These men are asked to screen those who move past this point. Nothing more. Anyone I personally vouch for is permitted through at once, of course."
"Your screening," I said, "has left this section of the wall unmanned."
"Most unfortunate." He inclined his head. "Alas, I must put the safety of my people first."
"And are they safer? Behind an empty wall, with the Wastes beyond it?"
Julian smiled, and pitched his voice a fraction louder, for the mercenaries who were listening. "I have every confidence that the men and women of House Veyne will mount a spirited defense should the need arise. They even have a Hero now, do they not? I doubt one small inconvenience will make so very much difference."
Behind him, at a distance, I could see Damian with both arms around Violet, holding her in place. I did not turn my hearing up to learn what she was saying. It was likely some colorful language I had never heard before.
Julian Greenward was clearly fishing for something. A reaction, most likely. That or he was simply waiting for this moment to gloat. Could someone be that petty? Since waking up in this world, I had learned that yes, someone could be.
The anger rose. I almost let it show before I smiled instead. It was a sharp smile, and I hoped he saw it. "You are giving orders you have no authority to give, Duke Greenward."
"Am I? Do name them for me." He looked genuinely curious, which was no doubt a part of the performance.
I pointed at the scarred man who led the mercenaries. "Your hired sword refused to show me his writ. I am certain the Duke himself will have no such difficulty."
"Ser Wallace, if you would." Julian did not even glance at the man. "It seems her Ladyship requires reassurance."
Ser Wallace Strong saluted and walked off toward the stair towers, leaving the three of us standing together in the emerald light. Julian occupied himself by looking over the ranks of the Third Shield. I truly doubted he was actually seeing much of anything.
"You cannot truly believe this flimsy excuse will hold for long," I said.
"Perhaps you misunderstand." He did not look at me. The corner of his mouth curled. "It is not so flimsy as you think."
Behind him, Cordelia adjusted her glove. Her right hand fell open at her side. A breeze moved through the street. It carried lilies, and my chest tightened before the scent was gone.
Ser Wallace returned with a folded paper and handed it to me without a word. I already knew, more or less, what it would say. I unfolded it anyway. Duke Aurel Thalos’ personal seal sat at the bottom in green wax.
By the authority of Duke Aurel Thalos, in the matter of civic administration: House Greenward is authorized to contract the free company known as the Third Shield to bolster internal security within the Greenward District, per each House’s right to manage the inner workings of its own district, insofar as no imposition is made upon the mandates of the other Great Houses.
The wall belonged to House Veyne. Every stone was mine by charter, as were the soldiers who manned it and the duty they fulfilled. The ground at its base was another matter. The lift platforms rested in the Greenward District. The stair towers opened onto Greenward streets. Every road that reached them crossed Greenward soil. It was exactly as I had feared it would be.
Our charter gave us the wall. It had never written down our right to reach it through reasonable means. Why would it? No one had imagined a Duke petty enough to stand at the bottom of a ladder and declare that the wall above it was none of his concern.
I refolded the paper along its original crease and held it out to Wallace. "And you do not consider stopping my men from taking their posts an imposition on my mandate?"
Julian shrugged. "They are welcome to come the long way." He gestured down the endless length of the wall. "A little exercise would do them good, I should think."
It was such a small and petty sentence. The kind the man had no doubt rehearsed in front of a mirror. Vaelin hummed in my mind. My right hand twitched, and I caught Julian’s eyes move towards it. He did not seem afraid. If anything, he seemed eager. That, more than anything, helped me keep control.
My mind returned to the checkpoints. I had seen hired swords inspecting carts and questioning citizens. The cordon at the wall skirted my mandate by inches, but the men in the street seemed to be doing a great deal more than bolstering security. I would have to talk to Duke Wardell and Duke Thalos. Perhaps all of this had happened because I had not personally talked to them in quite some time.
"Very well." I gave Julian my very best smile, because he was so plainly fishing for a rise, and I would not hand him one. "Good day to you, Duke Greenward."
His satisfaction dimmed. Only a fraction, but I saw it. I turned away. Before I did, I let myself look at Cordelia one last time. She looked past me still.
I knew it was a performance. I knew she was doing exactly what she had to do. But knowing that did not make it easier. I could not find a single crack in her perfect mask meant for me. My people met me halfway back.
"Well?" Violet had shaken free of Damian at last. "Did you clobber some sense into him or what?"
"I don’t think that look means good news, Violet," Damian said.
I turned to Count Sterling. "I’m sorry. It seems this will take longer than I had hoped."
The Count dipped his head. His jaw tightened. He looked past me toward the wall and the men gathered at its feet. "Then what are your instructions, My Lady?"
I could hear the disappointment under the formality. I had gone forward alone because he trusted me to solve the problem. And now I was back, and the problem was still there.
"Rotate the shifts the long way, from the Veyne side, starting today. The wall does not stand bare another hour." He nodded. "And keep presenting your men at the Greenward access points at every change of shift. Every time they are turned away, I want it written down."
"And what will that do?" Sterling asked, and there was bitterness in it now.
"It will give us standing," I said. "When something inevitably happens."
"I man the walls to prevent the inevitable from happening, My Lady." His voice was flat. "Honor and standing are secondary."
He was right, and we both knew he was right. For a man who only cared about his duty, anything less was a poor compromise. Still, it wasn’t like I was entirely out of options. The writ, while legally sound, could be tested in other ways.
"I am going to Duke Thalos myself," I told him. "He might have placed his seal on the writ, but I doubt he knew how it would be used. It is likely he was told of extra guards and nothing more. And if Duke Thalos will not move, there is Duke Wardell, whose mandate Julian is treading upon far less delicately than he treads on mine."
Sterling dipped his head again and did not manage to hide it any better than the first time. I noticed his attempt, and I let him keep the dignity of it.
"You said there was a history to that name," I said. "The Third Shield."
Sterling glanced toward Wallace. "Not one worth telling in the street, My Lady."
"Later, then."
"Later," he agreed.
We walked home, minus the Count, who had decided to go his own way. Violet and Damian argued the whole way, which was almost soothing. "That smug bastard just happened to show up right then?" Violet said. "Bullshit. I bet he was lurking around a corner all morning."
"Probably," Damian said. "The parade must still sting."
I half-listened. The Magical Implements along the road gave off their anemic blue, and after all that emerald I found I did not mind it in the slightest. Something tugged at my sleeve.
I looked down. Sere had appeared beside me, and she was holding a thin piece of paper up toward me. The paper was cream-colored and folded small, and my chest went tight before I had even taken it. The handwriting was one I would have known anywhere by now. It was unsigned.
I’m sorry, Esra. The wall was my idea. I gave him the idea before we ever spoke. It was one of his ‘hypotheticals’. I never thought he would actually use it.
Of course. The move had never fit her father. It was too quiet, built without a single stage to stand upon. And then I understood what the letter hadn’t said, and it stopped me where I stood.
She had written this before the carriage ever arrived. She had known I would come to the wall. She had known Sere would come with me. She had carried it past her father’s eyes. It had gained her nothing. It had risked everything. She had sent it anyway. All to say sorry.
How she had even managed to hand this off to Sere was-
Ah. She must have held it in her clenched hand then. It was no wonder why her ring hadn’t turned.
I folded the note and tucked it into the inner pocket of my coat, the one over my chest. Then I let myself do nothing for a little while. The evening light lay gold across the narrow streets as we walked. People stopped and pointed, and I was getting remarkably used to ignoring them. Violet’s voice drifted on ahead of me, still arguing some point Damian had long since conceded. We walked.
The manor gates came into view at the end of the road. One of the guards broke from them at a run. His eyes were wide. His helmet was tucked under one arm, and he nearly lost it as he came toward us. My arm twitched at my side before my mind could catch up. An attack? Had something happened while I was gone?
Estovan stepped ahead of me, his body set between the guard and the rest of us. "What is it, man? Out with it."
The guard swallowed. He looked past Estovan, to me. "My Lady. Your lord father -he’s awake."