Chapters (36)
- Title Page
- Welcome
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- Acknowledgments
- extras
- meet the author
- introducing
- Prologue: Julie
- Chapter One: Holden
- introducing
- Prologue
- 1
- By Ann Leckie
- Praise for the NEBULA, ARTHUR C. CLARKE, LOCUS, and BSFA award–winning; and HUGO, and PHILIP K. DICK award–nominated Ancillary Justice
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Orbit.
- Copyright
My instructions had been minor enough. Seivarden, replying, said, “This is Lieutenant Seivarden, commanding Mercy of Kalr in Fleet Captain Breq’s temporary absence. Most courteous greetings to Fleet Captain Uemi, and we are grateful for the news. Begging Fleet Captain Uemi’s indulgence, Fleet Captain Breq wonders if Sword of Inil took on any new crew at Omaugh Palace.” Though it might not be new crew I should worry about. It was entirely possible to make ancillaries out of older adults.
But no reply could reach me before supper. The question puzzled Seivarden, who didn’t know about Tisarwat, but Ship wouldn’t explain it to her.
Walking back to the house I met Raughd coming from the main building. “Good morning, Fleet Captain!” she said, with a sunny smile. “It’s so invigorating to be up at the break of day like this. I really ought to make a habit of it.” I had to admit, it was a creditably charming smile, even given the nearly undetectable strain behind it—even if she hadn’t just implied as much, I was sure this was not an hour when Raughd was accustomed to rising. But knowing as much as I did about her quite spoiled the effect for me. “Don’t tell me you’ve already been to the bath,” she added, with the merest touch of disappointment, calculatedly coy.
“Good morning, Citizen,” I replied without stopping. “And yes, I have.” And went into the house for breakfast.
13
After breakfast—fruit and bread that Fosyf’s servants had left lying on the sideboard the night before, by a polite fiction only leftovers from supper—Captain Hetnys and I were supposed to spend the day sitting quietly, praying at regular intervals, eating spare, simple meals. We sat, accordingly, on the sitting-room side of the house’s open ground floor. As the days went on we could properly spend more time farther from the house—sit, for instance, under the arbor outside. Convention allowed a certain amount of wider movement, for those who could not be still in their grief—I had taken advantage of that for my run that morning, and to use the bath. But most of the next few days would be spent in our rooms, or here in this sitting room, with only each other for company, or any neighbors who might stop by to console us.