“I do.”

He opened his mouth to ask a question, and she knew what it would be. Was my brother’s death a part of this, too? But then she saw him change his mind. “This was his room,” Rudolfo said. “Tomorrow, I will have it emptied and have his belongings disposed of. I’ve held on to it for too long.”

Tell him. But part of her thought she should wait for a less somber time. Part of her was unsure of how he would react. But tonight was a time for truth. She cleared her voice. “Actually, Lord Rudolfo, I have another idea for this room.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

She leaned closer to him. “You were wrong about your soldiers.”

He looked at her blankly. “My soldiers?”

Jin Li Tam offered a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been to the River Woman,” she said. She watched as the realization dawned on his face. “It is a boy. I would like to name him Jakob if you will permit it.”

Rudolfo opened his mouth and then closed it again. His brow furrowed. “You’re certain?”

“I am certain. You are to be a father. We will raise a strong heir to guard the light you rekindle here.”

“This,” Rudolfo said slowly, “is unexpected and fortuitous news.” He looked at her with something like wonder on his face. Gradually, it faded.

He knows it was my father’s design.

She wanted to ask him if he thought that he could love her beyond this terrible knowledge. Certainly, he’d felt something then-she’d seen it on his face, heard it in his voice. But it wasn’t love. It was need masquerading, based on the careful manipulations of House Li Tam. She wanted to ask, but she would not.

Instead, she would wait and see what honest thing could be built between them without deception. Jin Li Tam realized she knew very little about love.

But this much she knew-those who truly love should not require reciprocity.

Inclining her head toward her betrothed to show her respect, she slipped out of their future nursery and returned to her solitary bed.

Rudolfo, Jin Li Tam and Petronus dined together the next night. Rudolfo had arranged it before falling into his bed and sleeping away most of a day. He’d also insisted that Isaak attend, though the metal man did not eat. They started late. Overhead the sky moved from purple to gray, and the moon started its slow, upward crawl.

At Jin’s suggestion, the cooks presented grilled venison and forest mushrooms in a garlic sauce, folded into a bed of rice and served with flat, fried bread and steamed vegetables. They drank crisp, cool lemon-beer and ate creamed berries for dessert.

Isaak sat politely at the table from beginning to end, speaking when spoken to but otherwise just listening. Rudolfo made a point of engaging him in the conversation where appropriate.

Rudolfo looked to him now. “How is the restoration going?”

Z€…

“It’s going well, Lord. Construction is so far ahead of schedule that we’ll have to start working at night to keep up with them.”

Spring was turning to summer now, and the fourteen mechoservitors worked beneath a large silk tent at the base of the hill. They had tables stacked with parchment and quills and bottles of ink, and they reproduced from memory what they could. The completed stacks were bundled, tied with twine and hauled by wheelbarrow to the bindery across the river. Originally, they thought it would take three years to restore what remained of the world’s largest receptacle of knowledge.

“That’s good news,” Petronus said. “And I’ve received the letter of transfer. More good news.”

Isaak nodded. “It is.”

Petronus smiled. “Neb informs me that other holdings are finding their way home.”

Isaak hummed and clicked. “Two hundred twelve volumes have arrived from various sources, along with diverse Androfrancine artifacts of interest. And we have letters from two universities inviting emissaries to review their holdings for items unaccounted for. We’ve always anticipated a forty percent restoration when we’re finished. More if we reform the Expeditionary Office.”

But when Isaak said those words, Rudolfo saw the look on Petronus’s face, and knew that the Pope had no plans for a return to the Churning Wastes.

And he never speaks of future work beyond this Council. Rudolfo noted this.

They continued talking in low voices, drinking their wine and discussing the council and the work remaining.

Afterward, they reclined on pillows and listened to the beginning of night.

Isaak stood. “Humble apologies,” he said, “but with your leave, I will return to my work.” He clicked and clanked, then bowed before Petronus. “Good evening, Father.”

Petronus chuckled. “Continue your excellent work. I’m sure we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Isaak nodded, looked at Rudolfo and Jin Li Tam. “Thank you for your graciousness.”

“You are always most welcome,” Rudolfo said.

They listened to his pistons clacking as he exited the garden and took the stairs inside.

Jin’s left hand moved quickly, her fingers shifting against the backdrop of her gown and tablecloth as her right hand reached for her napkin. You should dismiss me and speak with Petronus alone, she signed.

Rudolfo inclined his head slightly. “Perhaps our guest and I should take our plum brandy privately tonight?”

She smiled at them both. “I think you both have much to discuss.” As she stood, her hand moved again, now against her hip and leg. Be mindful; this old fox is crafty.

“Not just crafty,” Petronus said, “but also fluent in seventeen different nonverbal Court languages.” He looked at her, his eyes crinkling with his smile. His own hand moved in the same pattern of language. You have found a strategic and strong and beautiful woman, Rudolfo.

Jin Li Tam blushed. “Thank you, Excellency.”

She leaned over Rudolfo briefly, squeezing his shoulder before she left. Two Gypsy Scouts followed her as she left the garden.

Rudolfo clapped, and a server appeared with a bottle and two small glasses. He filled their glasses and vanished.

Petronus dug an ivory pipe and a weathered leather pouch from his plain brown robe and held it up. “May I?”

Rudolfo nodded. “Please.”

Petronus looked nothing like a king, Rudolfo realized, and certainly acted nothing like any Pope he’d seen. He watched the old man pinch dark, sweet-smelling leaves between his thumb and forefinger, watched him shove the wad down into the pipe’s bowl. He struck a match on the table and drew the pipe to life, a cloud of purple smoke collecting and twisting around his head before drifting out over the garden.

Petronus waited until Rudolfo lifted his brandy cup then raised his own. They held their cups up, saying nothing, and then drank.

Rudolfo tasted the sweet fruit, felt the fire as the brandy burned its way into him.

After a minute passed, Rudolfo cleared his voice. The gardens emptied as his Gypsy Scouts and servers shifted to take up positions nearby but out of earshot. “The time to talk plainly is upon us. Vlad Li Tam flees the Named Lands. Sethbert is silent beneath the physicians’ knives. What are your intentions for the Order?”

Petronus shook his head. “You can no longer afford to think like that, Rudolfo. The Order is irrelevant. I am irrelevant. What’s left of the library is all that matters.”

‹“€gn="justfont size="3" face="Times New Roman"›Vlad Li Tam’s words came back to him. A new location for the Great Library. Under a strong caretaker. “You are the Pope. You have a part to play in this.”

Petronus shook his head. “My part in this is nearly finished. I left this behind for a reason. I intend to leave it behind again, Rudolfo.”