Utana sits back, thoughtful. “You would have me write to my old friends at the imperial court about this.”

“Only if it’s not too much trouble,” says Mehtap, though the hope in her eyes would be hard for anyone to resist.

“I can certainly try,” Utana says. “I’ve not heard from my fellow advisers in a while, but I like to imagine that they still think of me from time to time.”

Mehtap’s smile brightens the room.

Just then, one of her soldier escorts steps through the door. “Lady Mehtap, a message has arrived for you.”

Mehtap gathers her skirts. “Please excuse me.”

In the silence that follows, Utana reaches to pour my tea, but I beat him to it. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you in the hospital thus far, Your Excellency.”

He watches me shrewdly over his cup. “And tell me, young Zivah. Do you say this because I seem like the type of man who enjoys hospitals, or because your keen physician’s eye has seen something?”

I bow my head, acknowledging his meaning. I like how he gets right to the point. “I wouldn’t say it takes a keen eye for a healer in a rosemarked compound to recognize the final stage of rose plague.” It had taken me a while to look past his careful grooming, but now I see the frailty of his limbs beneath his robes, the strain that pulls at the corners of his eyes.

Utana sets his cup down. “The tremors started a fortnight ago,” he says soberly. “The headaches are mild, but I hear they’ll get worse soon enough. I have no desire to waste away my last days on a hospital pallet. I’ve lived a full life, and I’m comfortable here.” He’s admirably calm when he speaks of his impending death.

“There are still ways we could help,” I say. “Ease the pain even if you are not at the hospital.” I don’t mention that I’m surprised to see the fever return so soon for Utana, since he only entered the compound a few months ago. I suppose sometimes the elderly succumb more quickly.

“That is kind of you. It’s bearable for now, but I will remember your offer.” He straightens. “But why speak of such things before they happen? I would rather hear about your time at the hospital.”

I put up my hands in a matter-of-fact gesture. “I wish I were better able to care for my patients. I’m quite limited in supplies, and I have many more people to take care of than I’m used to.” I’m glad he’s taken the conversation to this topic, and I search for a way to steer it further. “But I’m sure you know all of this. I imagine as minister of health you dealt quite a bit with rose plague.”