“It will fade.” I didn’t like Morah’s hard look. She respected Raven and obeyed her, but she didn’t care for her. Morah didn’t know, any more than Annin did, that Raven and I forged documents to help Half Kith leave the Ward, so I couldn’t expect her to understand Raven’s reaction.

I touched my chest above my heart, where the Elysium feather lay hidden beneath my shirt. The feather seemed to thrill beneath my touch. “Morah, why does a Lord Protector rule Herrath?”

She capped the pot of salve. “What do you mean, why?”

“How did that come to be?”

She looked at me strangely. “We have always had a Lord Protector.”

“But not the same one.”

“Of course not. When one dies, he is replaced.”

“By the Council.”

“Yes. You know this. Nirrim, you are worrying me. What happened to you in prison?”

I thought of Sid’s questions, her frustration with It is as it is. “I am just thinking. There must have been a first Lord Protector. How was he chosen? And why Protector? To protect us against what? The rest of the world?”

Confusion crossed her face. “There is only Herrath. There is the Ward and the city and the island and the sea.”

“That is not true. There are other countries across the sea. There have been wars.”

“War.” Morah said the word as if she didn’t understand it. “There is no war. There has never been a war. You are making my head hurt.”

“But—”

The door to the tavern opened, dumping sunshine across the floor. “Finally up, I see.” Raven smiled, a heavy basket slung over each arm. She must have gone to the morning market, which was usually my task. “Little slugabed,” she said.

I got to my feet to help her. “I’m sorry.”

“Not at all! You needed your rest. Morah.” Raven looked at her. Morah hadn’t moved from the table where we had sat. Displeasure played along Raven’s mouth, but she said only, “No need to rush to help your old mistress. Run to the kitchens. Annin will need help with the day’s bread.” Once we were alone, she said to me, “Since you’ve been gone, we’ve fallen behind on fulfilling our requests. Go to the printer’s. He has agreed to loan you his press for a few hours.” She slipped a folded piece of paper into my pocket. “Here are the instructions.” Her eyes scanned my face. “Are you well enough? I hate to ask you, but we must make haste.”

“I want to go.” I was eager to feel useful. It was always good to hold the finished documents in my hands. “I want to be outside.” That was true, too. Fresh air had crept into the tavern with Raven like the delicate green tendrils of a vine.