For a long moment, Queen Estie was silent, groping for a response. At this moment, the deaf man’s capacity for thoughtfulness gave her no comfort. She did not know how to make the choice that her circumstances demanded.

Despite his weariness and woe, Travail said as if he were sure, “I can help you.”

Her voice caught in her throat. Hoarsely, she asked, “How?”

He did not look away. “You know that Magister Rummage repeats what he hears for Magister Avail. I can teach you his code of finger-taps. You and your Commander. It may serve you. You can use it to measure the cost of your gift.”

Estie froze. The Apprentice seemed to assume that she would claim her inheritance. His offer brought back her initial shock, her desire to protest. And yet—

While she remained stuck, Travail said, “It is as fluent as speech, Queen. It requires skill, nothing more. We relied on it, the three of us: my love, Magister Avail, and I. Magister Rummage brought it with him to the Repository. It is his, but others have learned it. Magister Oblique. Third Father. Several more. For those who cannot hear, deafness is not always isolation.”

He hesitated briefly, then added, “I do not presume to know your heart, Queen. But I believe that knowing this code will ease you while you wrestle with your dilemma.”

She felt unable to think. Travail’s offer was too intimate. It asked her to set aside her fears. As if she were helpless, she turned to the Commander. “Crayn? What are your thoughts?”

She meant, Tell me what to do. But she could not expect him to carry that burden.

“For myself, Majesty,” he replied, considering as he spoke, “I will be glad to learn this skill. I can imagine uses for it. It might benefit my men at times when they must be silent. It may benefit me when I wish to address you while others are talking.”

That was enough for Estie. The code was valuable for its own sake. It did not imply a larger decision.

For the first time since she had been given the name of her gift, she managed a wan smile. “Then I will accept your offer, Apprentice. The Commander and I will be your students.”

Travail rewarded her with a smile of his own, one that was not fraught with sorrow. “I am pleased, Queen,” he admitted. “The task will be a gift. It will concentrate my mind.”

At once, he added, “But I must be honest. I have never had a student. I must learn to teach. And you will not learn quickly. The code is complex. Much of it is condensed. There are many details to remember. No one masters it in an afternoon.”