“I know. And you’re not scriving anymore. Are you?”
Estelle seemed to deflate. “N…no. How did you know?”
“Because you were a damn clever scriver back when I knew you.”
They exchanged a look, and both understood there were unspoken words there—Even if your father never recognized it. For though Tribuno Candiano had been a wildly brilliant man, he’d been supremely disinterested in his daughter, and had made it well known that he’d have preferred a son.
And perhaps that was why he’d treated her as he had. For when Tribuno Candiano’s Occidental obsessions had bankrupted his merchant house, he’d essentially auctioned off his daughter’s hand in marriage to pay off his debts — and young Tomas Ziani, scion of the outrageously wealthy Ziani family, had been only too keen to buy the rights.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“If Tomas was letting you work,” said Orso, “you’d have turned Company Candiano around, I bet. You were good. Damned good.”
“That’s not the place of a chief officer’s wife, though.”
“No. Seems like an officer’s wife’s place is here, waiting in the halls, and being seen waiting in the halls, meek and obedient.”
She glared at him. “Why did you come talk to me, Orso? Just to dig your fingers in old wounds?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He took a breath. “Listen, Estelle…there’s some shit going on.”
“Are you sure you can talk about this? Or will Ofelia Dandolo have your balls braised for it?”
“She probably would,” he said, “but I’m going to say it anyway. Regarding your father’s materials…His Occidental collection, I mean, all that stuff he bought. Are those still at Company Candiano? Or were those auctioned away?”
“Why?” she demanded.
He remembered how Tomas Ziani had looked at him, smirking. “Just curious.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “All of that is under Tomas’s control now. I’m nowhere close to management, Orso.”
He thought about this. Tomas Ziani was sinfully rich, and had a reputation as a cunning merchant — but a scriver he wasn’t. When it came to sigils, he probably couldn’t tell his ass from a hole in the ground. The idea of him making something as powerful as the listening rig or the gravity plates was laughable.
But Tomas had resources, and ambition. What he couldn’t make himself, he could perhaps buy.
And he might still have access, thought Orso, to the smartest scriver in all of Tevanne.
“Does Tomas ever see Tribuno?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” said Estelle, now deeply suspicious.
“Does he talk to him? And, if so, what about?”
“This is now thoroughly out of line,” she said. “What’s going on, Orso?”
“I told you. There’s some shit going on in the city. Estelle…If Tomas was going to…to make a play at me, to come at me — you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“What do you mean, come at you?”
Orso pulled down the edge of his scarf with a finger and allowed her a glimpse of his bruised neck.
Her eyes opened wide. “My God, Orso…Who…who did that to you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. So. If Tomas was going to make a play like this for me — would you warn me?”
“Do…do you really think Tomas could have done that?”
“I’ve had some civilized and proper people try to kill me over the years. Do you know anything, Estelle? And, again, if you did — would you tell me?”
She stared at him, and a mixture of expressions passed over her face: surprise, anger, resentment, then sadness. “Do I owe you that?”
“I think so,” said Orso. “I never asked you for much.”
She was silent for a long while. “That’s not true,” she said. “You…you did ask me to marry you. But after that…no, you never asked me for anything else again.”
They stood in the hallway, surrounded by servants, not knowing what to say.
Estelle blinked rapidly. “If I thought Tomas was a threat to you, I would tell you, Orso.”
“Even if it betrayed Candiano interests to do so?”
“Even if it did that.”
“Thank you.” He bowed deeply to her. “I…I appreciate your time, Lady Ziani.” He turned and walked away.
He kept his head level and his arms stiff as he moved. Once he was about a few hundred feet down the hall, he ducked beside a column and watched the Company Candiano crowd.
He could tell when Tomas Ziani and the others emerged — the servants all sat up straight, keenly aware that their masters were now here. But not Estelle. She stood seemingly frozen, staring into space. And when her husband came and took her hand and led her away, she barely seemed to notice.
17
Sancia was still asleep when there was a knock at the door. “Sun is setting,” Gregor’s voice said. “Our chariot shall be here soon.”
Sancia groaned, hauled herself off the sheetless bed, and staggered downstairs. All the injuries and scrapes from the past two days felt like they’d grown until her whole body was a bruise. When she saw Gregor she realized he must feel the same way: he was standing crooked, so as to not put pressure on his back, and he had his bandaged arm pulled close to his chest.
After a while, the front door opened and Berenice walked in. She looked at the two of them. “Good God,” she said. “I’ve seen cheerier faces in a mausoleum. Come on. The carriage is ready. I’ll warn you, though — he’s in a foul mood.”
“He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who has good moods,” said Sancia, following her.
“Then this is a worse mood,” said Berenice.
She drove them back to the hypatus department just as the sun slipped behind the clouds.
<Are you ready for this, Clef?> Sancia asked.
<Sure,> he said. He sounded chipper and cheerful again.
<And…you feel all right?>
<I feel great. Really great. That’s kind of the problem, kid.>
She tried not to let her concern show in her face.
<Cheer up,> said Clef. <I’ll get you out of this jam, at the least. I promise.>
The hypatus offices were still and dark. They used a back entrance to a small, forgotten staircase, and they climbed until they found Orso waiting at the top, next to his workshop.
<So that’s the guy who bought me, huh?> asked Clef.
<Yeah.>
<What’s he like?>
“Took you damned long enough!” snapped Orso. “God, I thought I’d die of scrumming old age up here!”
<Never mind, I think I got it.>
“Good evening, Orso,” said Gregor. “How was the committee meeting?”
“Dull and short,” said Orso. “But not…entirely useless. I had some ideas — and if we can find that damn rig, I can confirm if those ideas are right.” He stood and pointed at Sancia. “You. Are you ready to do this again?”