“Teia, it’s time. We let you sleep as long as we could. We have to go. Now.”
She sat up.
But Gavin’s eyes widened.
Gill glanced at his younger brother and cleared his throat.
Teia hadn’t realized that she’d stripped off her tunic before lying down, and her camisole had gotten all twisted in however she’d thrashed in her sleep, so she exposed half a breast as she sat up. Half of little being practically nothing.
“Gav!” Gill scolded as Teia hiked things back in place. He smacked his brother’s shin with the haft of his spear.
“Ow! What was that—”
“You know what it was for, you ape. Glance, don’t gape.”
Gavin winced. “I know, I know. Look, don’t linger. Sorry. Sorry.”
“Not to me,” Gill said.
“What?” Gavin asked.
“Don’t say it to me.”
“Well, I was tryin’ not to stare again—” Gavin started. “I have a hard time controlling my eyes when, you know?”
“Trouble controlling your eyes? And you’re a drafter?” Teia said. “And you’re the veterans I’m supposed to be looking up to?” She stood up and reached for the hem of her camisole. “It’s not battlefield rules, is it?”
“Huh?” Gavin asked. “Oh.”
They turned away, and she stripped and dressed in fresh clothes quickly.
“I didn’t mean to… I, uh, I polished your boots and belt so you could sleep a little longer,” Gavin said.
Oh no. First, Teia didn’t want anyone going through her things. Second, he was a little too eager to please.
Teia said, “Well, since you’re so helpful and so interested in my personal business, take these,” she put a wad of garments in his hands, “and put them in the bin for dirty menstrual rags.”
Gavin dropped the clothes from limp hands as if he’d been pithed.
Gill guffawed.
“I’m joking,” Teia said. “But I am on my moon, so I’ll need a minute.”
He looked queasy and still distrustful of the laundry at his feet.
“And Gavin, you’re sweet and all things wonderful, but… no, not ever. I almost did that once, and I’ve no interest in doing it again. The rules are there for a reason, and I’m going to obey them. Nothing personal.”
He didn’t look as if he understood, but she went past him and washed up in the Archers’ toilets as quickly as possible. Curse cramps, anyway. Maybe his big brother would explain it to him while she was gone.
When she came back, he’d put the rest of her clothes in the basket for the slaves. She was glad that she’d remembered to change the master cloak’s disguise so it looked like a Blackguard cloak now. After you were elevated, your nunk clothes were taken by the slaves, laundered, patched, and given to the next cohort. Teia didn’t even want to think about what she’d have had to go through if she’d let the master cloak get mixed with every other nunk cloak at the Chromeria.
But she hadn’t loused up, this time.
She threw on the cloak. She felt resplendent, proud.
“You look good,” Gill said. “You look like a Blackguard.”
They let her check her own weapons—a Blackguard always checked his own weapons.
“I didn’t mean anything like that,” Gavin said, awkwardly. “I was just trying to give you some more time to sleep.”
His face cleared. Rejection was hard for any man. Rejection and a loss of face together were too much for most.
“Oh, my mistake, then. I’m just so excited about finally being a Blackguard, I’ve got a hair trigger about anything that would make me mess up, I guess. Forgive me, brother?” she asked.
Why was it on a woman to tiptoe around the feelings of men…?
“Of course, sister,” he said, and all was well.
At least men usually made up for projecting their stupidity by being easily maneuvered.
They had to jog to make it to their posts on time, forming up outside the White’s apartments, and Watch Captain Tempus grimaced at them for cutting it close on this day of days. He was a wild-haired man, his roots gray. He had deep-black skin and intense blue eyes compounded with blue halos.
“On time is five minutes early,” he said.
“My fault, sir,” Gill said.
Gavin and Teia both looked at him. Gill really was a big brother. He would gibe Gavin constantly, but when it came time to take care of things, Gill was there every time.
Watch Captain Tempus handed Teia a velvet baggie no larger than a coin purse. “Dark eye caps,” he said. “So you don’t go blind using paryl out in the full sun.”
The hallway was crowded, not only with Blackguards, but also with slaves scrubbing at the stains on the floors and ceilings from the smoke, fire, bullets, and blood. Stonemasons and carpenters were making their own measurements and estimates with their own journeymen and apprentices and slaves, and the Chromeria’s slaves were trying to work among all that. Cleaning and repairing the highest floor of the Prism’s Tower wasn’t something that would be allowed to proceed at a slower but more efficient pace. Half a dozen Blackguards stood watching the workers at all times.
The violation of this area, the White’s very sanctum, the Blackguard’s home, had been taken as a personal affront. Teia was sure that she would be answering more questions about that in the near future, too.
Watch Captain Tempus led them past the Guards at the door. A knot of diplomats, room slaves, an anxious luxiat, and one-handed Trainer Samite stood around the White’s desk. As Teia’s squad came in, Karris declared, “Everything else will have to wait.” Her voice rose over the people crowded around her, though with her diminutive height, she did not.
“Tell Carver Black I’ll meet him in two hours, and to have as many of those reports as possible. Tell the Ruthgari ambassador I won’t see her until dinner. Assure her that I’m not putting her off on purpose. Have her seated with me to placate her. Clear everything out of the first two hours after noon, we’ll have some urgent demands for a meeting from the High Luxiats after the executions. Are we ready?”
The luxiat attending her blanched. “Surely you’re not presiding over the execution in that?”
Teia still couldn’t see Karris, so she didn’t see what he was talking about for a moment, but the room went absolutely still at his reproof of the White.