“Can do,” Kiem said. He was clearly trying to put energy into it, but for once it wasn’t working. “I’ll put something together tomorrow. Leave it to me.”
“I’ll need some handling detail for the—”
“Hren Halesar,” Jainan said, cutting in midsentence with his formal name. “His highness is tired from travel, and we have to take a shuttle tomorrow on Imperial business. You will kindly allow us to shower and rest.”
Hren turned on him in astonishment, but his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to need more than—”
“Oh, shit, Hren, actually,” Kiem said, interrupting him for the second time, “you’re just the person I want, come to think of it.” He pulled something bulky out of his jacket pocket and pressed it on Hren.
Hren looked down at the golden trowel in his hands. “The fuck is this?”
“It’s a trowel,” Kiem said.
Jainan said gravely, “It’s very important.”
“Get that back to Braska Prime with a good apology, would you?” Kiem said. “Great opportunity for good press. Write them a flowery letter. Oh, and you’d better let them know I’m not dead. Tell them I’ll call them—”
“You’ll call them when you don’t look like death,” Jainan put in.
“I’ll call them when I don’t look like death. Take care of the trowel. Just the man. Knew I could count on you.”
“Excuse me,” Jainan said to the nurse. “His highness is in poor condition and needs to get to the clinic.”
“No kidding,” said the nurse, who had been trying to put a blood-pressure patch on Kiem’s wrist for the past two minutes. “This way, Your Highness.”
“And lice. I think I’ve got lice,” Kiem said mournfully, stepping close enough to Hren to make him take a sharp step back. “Wouldn’t get in the elevator with me. ’Scuse me.” He disappeared into the elevator with the nurse.
Jainan traded a glance with Bel and followed Kiem. Bel went to take Hren aside and presumably give him enough information to keep him away from Kiem until tomorrow. “Lice?” Jainan murmured as he followed Kiem into the elevator.
“Well-known side effect of hypothermia,” Kiem said.
“Of course,” Jainan said. “As is talking nonsense, I believe. I’ll pick up some of your clothes and meet you at the clinic.”
It didn’t feel like a triumphant return. Jainan was tired to the point of exhaustion, and the momentary levity had faded into the nagging sense of wrongness that followed him wherever he went. He was embarrassed to be seen by the people he passed in the corridor in the mess of clothes they’d put on after the crash. He forced himself to shut down every thought but the immediate task, but that tripped him up: he was halfway to Taam’s rooms before he realized he was in the wrong wing of the palace.
He backtracked, frustrated, and increased his pace back to Kie—to his own rooms. He was almost there when he became aware of footsteps behind him.
“Your Grace!”
Jainan turned. The person following him was a smartly dressed, short-haired woman with fashion-statement silver eye implants. Jainan recoiled automatically before he recognized her.
The woman wore a bright, intent smile. “Sorry to chase you around, I wasn’t quite sure it was you.” She advanced with her hand out. “Hani Sereson, I’m—”
“A journalist, I know,” Jainan said. He didn’t take her hand. He was in no mood to fake pleasantries, and there was nobody to demand it of him. “I recognize you from the wedding ceremony.”
“Yes, I’m with Consult News,” Hani said. She dropped her hand in a smooth recovery and gave his disheveled clothes an assessing look. “Unscheduled ski trip, Your Grace? Does this have anything to do with the Auditor suddenly disappearing?”
“No—” Jainan said, then realized he was falling into a trap. If he gave her the slightest opening, his and Kiem’s names would be all over the news tomorrow, and even Hren Halesar wouldn’t be able to control the damage. “Why are you in here?” he said instead. “Do you have a visitor permit?”
Hani gave a slight, ironic bow. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said. “As a matter of fact, Prince Kiem and I meet every month for drinks. Only he didn’t turn up today. The public gets rightly concerned when one of our Resolution representatives is nowhere to be found. He’s usually so public.”
“Prince Kiem is not available,” Jainan said. “He is preparing for Unification Day.”
“I hope he’s not ill?” Hani said. Jainan shook his head. “All eyes are on the treaty reps and the Resolution, you know. I’m covering it from Carissi Station, so if you have any quotes you want me to print…？”
“No,” Jainan said. “Please leave.”
“Okay, okay.” Hani held up a palm in front of her. “I’ll consider this conversation off the record.” Jainan didn’t like the silver sheen on her eyes. It made her harder to read as she stared at him. “But you should know, I’m not your enemy.”
You are, Jainan said in the privacy of his head, but instead he gave her a tight smile. “I’m afraid I value my privacy.” His wristband chimed, but he ignored it. “Do you need escorting out?”
“I’m going!” Hani said, but Jainan didn’t care. He shut the door behind him and was enclosed safe in the calm oasis of Kiem’s rooms, finally alone.
He expected to feel relief. He had always counted his time alone in the palace like gold dust. But, somewhat to his surprise, he strode impatiently through the room and rooted through drawers in the bedroom to find Kiem’s clothes, not pausing even to sit down. There were still things to be done.
A staccato tapping on the window heralded the arrival of the doves, who had obviously seen movement and hoped for food. Jainan knew it was Kiem who fed them; he had caught him at it several times. Jainan had no time for them right now but the sound was familiar and reassuring.
His wristband chimed. He tapped it to make it stop and glanced at the messages that had come in while he was out of signal. There were more than he’d anticipated: he could ignore most of the College communications, but the flurry of messages from Gairad caused a sharp pang of guilt. She was still messaging him about the project, trying to work out how Kingfisher had set up their refinery.
He sat down and tried to sort out a reply. Gairad had no idea what Professor Audel was doing. It could be dangerous for her to stay on the project. And yet, he had given his word to Internal Security, for the sake of the Empire—for the sake of Thea.
He spun through to Gairad’s last message. I’ve found some plans I need you to see. I’ll meet you on Carissi.
Jainan’s resolution wavered and gave way. He messaged back, I will see you there. Then he took his wristband off, opened a drawer, and dropped it at the back for the night.
“Hey,” Kiem said from the bedroom door.
Jainan whirled around. “I thought you were in the clinic.” I was coming, he wanted to say, but Kiem was giving him his best hangdog look.
“I flirted my way out of it,” Kiem said. “I was shameless. I just wanted the fuss to stop. Forgive me?” His tone was half-bantering, half-serious, and the serious parts made something odd happen in Jainan’s chest.