25

Aelyn lost the laundry cell during a session about flour.

The councilor for provisions had spent twenty minutes explaining the price of wheat when Neral left a folded handkerchief beside the red book. The cloth had three broken seams and a soap stain in the center.

Third Room raided.

The signal was supposed to arrive after an evacuation. The broken seams meant someone had been left inside.

Aelyn kept listening.

“How many mills still have reserves?” she asked.

The councilor checked a sheet.

“Six in Caleryon and four in the nearby villages.”

“The tax reports list nine in Caleryon.”

“Three have closed.”

“When?”

“In the last quarter.”

“The city has received flour from all three this month.”

Varek sat across the table. Aelyn saw him looking at the handkerchief.

“The commission uses closed storehouses for emergency reserves,” he said.

“The Council needs to know the quantities.”

“The routes are confidential.”

“The people pay for that wheat.”

Darian sat at the head of the table. He had returned from the coast with a burn on his neck and a new stiffness in his left arm. The public report spoke of an attack on a convoy. Isolde’s name was left out.

“Deliver the figures before tomorrow,” he ordered.

Varek inclined his head.

“I’ll deliver a summary.”

“The complete figures.”

The room went still.

Aelyn tucked the handkerchief inside her sleeve.

The session ended an hour later. She left with Neral for the north gallery. Two commission guards waited outside her office.

“Lord Varek has ordered an inspection of the water conduits,” one said.

“My office has no pipes.”

“We’ll inspect the walls.”

“With a Council representative present.”

“Citadel security permits immediate access.”

Aelyn handed the red book to Neral.

“Find the master builder and two councilors. Have them bring the building plan.”

The guards waited.

The delay gave her time to calculate. The chair with the second book was inside. The third register traveled sewn into her skirt. The first was public. If they opened the wood, they would find years of names.

Darian appeared at the far end of the gallery.

“What’s happening?”

“An inspection of conduits,” Aelyn replied.

He looked at the dry wall.

“Withdraw.”

The guards hesitated.

“The order bears the commission’s seal.”

“This wing belongs to the Royal House.”

“Lord Varek has invoked the risk of infiltration.”

Darian held out his hand.

“The order.”

The guard handed it over. Darian read the text, folded the paper, and put it away.

“You may report that I’ve taken charge of the inspection.”

The men left.

Aelyn opened her office door. Darian followed her in.

“They searched the laundry,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Because the smoke is visible from the courtyard.”

Darian looked out the window. A gray column rose beside the servants’ quarters.

“The order I just withdrew mentioned a network inside the Citadel.”

“The commission uses that phrase for anyone who copies a name.”

“And for people who steal military documents.”

Aelyn turned.

“What document has Varek lost?”

Darian paused.

“Ask him.”

“I’m asking you.”

The burn on his neck disappeared beneath his shirt collar. Aelyn saw dried mud in a seam of his cloak. He had returned straight to the Citadel.

“Cevran has operated outside my command,” Darian said. “Varek is trying to protect his routes.”

“Did you find the woman?”

“I found a convoy under attack.”

“Someone heard you say a name.”

Darian went to the window.

“My guards filed different reports.”

“That answers another question.”

“It’s the only answer you’ll get.”

Aelyn opened the first drawer. She took out an official sheet concerning access to detainees.

“Sign this.”

“What is it?”

“An order allowing Ravel to examine everyone taken from the laundry.”

“Aelyn.”

“You’re withdrawing inspections of my office. Do something for the people without a door of their own.”

Darian read the sheet.

“Varek will say I’m interfering with a technical investigation.”

“Let him say it in the Council.”

He signed.

Aelyn sealed the order before he could change his mind. Neral returned with the councilors and the master builder. The inspection was suspended for lack of conduits.

When Darian left, Aelyn closed the door.

“How many?” she asked Neral.

“Orla sent the signal. Five detained, two missing. Lenda got out with a bag. A guard followed her.”

“Orla?”

“She’s still inside the Citadel. She burned the visible records and opened the ash chute.”

“Who was left in Third Room?”

Neral gave her four names. Aelyn knew three. The fourth was a sixteen-year-old girl who ironed cloaks and carried messages inside buttons.

“Nelia Dorel died when they came in,” Neral said.

Aelyn rested her hands on the table. Sixteen. At that age, she had returned from Uln with a reprimand she had kept intact and a letter to Isolde in which she had struggled to write what had happened. She had had a next day in which to do it.

The handkerchief was still inside her sleeve. She took it out and found a small stitch, redone in darker thread. Nelia mended what others left unfinished before the end of her shift.

“Tell me who saw her,” she asked.

Neral gave her the name of the guard who had carried the body. Aelyn wrote it beside the girl’s. She had to brace her elbow to stop the pen from shaking.

“Family?”

“Mother and younger brother in the canal district.”

“Ravel will visit them. The signed order will let him leave the Citadel.”

“Varek will watch the healer.”

“We’ll also send a provisions scribe and two mill inspectors. Each will carry a part.”

Neral understood.

“The cell is lost.”

“Third Room disappears today. No one uses its routes.”

“Orla can rebuild it.”

“Orla will choose other work when she gets out. The people from that room will each decide for themselves whether to continue.”

Aelyn opened the false wall behind a map. She took out a bag of coins, four civil seals, and a list of empty shelters.

“What do we do about the detainees?” Neral asked.

“Make them a public matter.”

“The commission will deny the names.”

“I’ll read them at tomorrow’s session.”

“That will confirm you received information from the laundry.”

Aelyn took the staff entry book. All five were listed as royal employees.

“It will confirm that a councilor knows who works in her own palace.”

Neral put away the coins.

“And Lenda?”

“She’ll follow her way out.”

“She may have the document they’re looking for.”

“That’s why she has to decide without an order from me.”

Aelyn opened the chair.

The hidden book was still there.

She took it out for the last time.

For four years, she had trusted repetition. Every name existed in three places. The book in the chair had become a fourth point, too large to flee with and too valuable to lose whole.

Aelyn cut the thread in the spine.

Neral watched her separate the gatherings.

“I thought you’d never destroy a book.”

“I’m keeping the pages.”

“You lose the order.”

“The order is in the third register.”

She divided the names by routes. The healers received the sick and those who had passed through prisons. The boatmen kept the harbors and exits. The markets held taxes, debts, and evictions. Families took the transfers.

Each packet carried different instructions. No one received the complete index.

Aelyn tore out the blank pages and left them in the chair. She closed the spine around them again.

“When they search the office, they’ll find an empty book,” Neral said.

Aelyn ran her fingers along the spine. She had opened that chair so many nights that she could find its fastening in the dark.

“They’ll keep watching this room.”

“And whoever sits here,” Neral said.

She placed the first packet in his hands.

“That’s why I’m giving it to you now. If they stop me leaving tomorrow, warn Orla through the market.”

Neral tucked the pages beneath his coat and waited until Aelyn took her hand from the chair back.

The distribution began with Ravel’s order. A healer left for Nelia Dorel’s family. A scribe took the laundry payroll to the public archive. Two inspectors visited the closed mills and left pages beneath marked stones. Orla opened the ash exit for the packets bound for the market.

By dawn, the chair held silence.

* * *

Aelyn read the detainees’ names before the Council.

“Tesa Ol, Farin Vey, Mael Orda, Pira Len, and Soren Tal,” she said. “Citadel workers. The commission is holding them at a location omitted from the guard register.”

Varek closed his folder.

“They were transferred for questioning.”

“Where?”

“A secure facility.”

“The regent has signed authorization for medical access.”

Aelyn laid the order on the table.

Darian recognized his signature.

“Provide the location,” he told Varek.

“One of the detainees has information about a network capable of infiltrating the Citadel.”

“Give the location to the royal healer.”

“The commission will choose the physician.”

“I have chosen.”

Varek looked at the burn on Darian’s neck.

“The regent’s recent decisions require a security review.”

The councilors stopped pretending to be interested in their papers.

Darian stood.

“Choose your words carefully.”

“I’m weighing the results. One freed prisoner. Three lost cores. The target identified and outside containment.”

Aelyn watched Darian’s hands. His right closed on the table. His left remained beside the royal seal.

“The technical unit disobeyed my orders,” he said.

“The unit obeyed its own.”

“Whose?”

The door opened before Varek could answer.

Cevran came in covered in dry snow. The burn on his face had split open. He carried an iron box and a dark bag.

Varek went to meet him.

Cevran handed him the box. Then he took out a copper plate and put it inside. The bag contained a jacket with documents.

Aelyn saw a red seal among the folds.

So did Darian.

“Captain Tor,” he said. “I ordered your detention.”

Cevran kept his eyes on Varek.

“The commission assumed operational command.”

“You are under arrest.”

Varek closed the box.

“The captain has brought evidence of a threat to the kingdom. Any accusation will wait until he delivers his report.”

“He will deliver it in royal custody.”

“My men will ensure his presence.”