“I’m thinking that there are other reasons not to murder people beyond the fact that there’s no swag in it, as you say,” Jemson said mildly.

“Yeah, well. I can sing any song you like, you know that,” Han said. “I’m just being straight with you here.”

“I know, and I appreciate that.” Jemson rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Forgive me. I just get frustrated sometimes. Master Alister, I see that your reputation as a leader and strategist is fairly earned. And all those qualities that made you a stellar streetlord could take you wherever you want to go. The trades. The army. The court at Fellsmarch.” He sighed. “Should take you. But too many of the children I care about end up dead. It’s such a waste.”

“The lytlings that come to Southbridge Temple are the smartest anywhere,” Han said, thinking of Mari. “But there’s nothing for them except the gangs. Some get into it because they’re thugs at heart. A lot do it because it’s how you can survive. You can feed a family on a gang share if you have the right streetlord.” He half smiled. “And if you get killed, at least you aren’t watching your family eating clay to fill their bellies.

“Do you know how hard it’s been since I quit the game? I work three times as hard for half the swag. The Southies still have it in for me, and the Raggers don’t know what to make of me. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder if it might have been better to stay.”

“Why’d you leave it, then?” Jemson asked. He cleared his throat. “Since you were so…successful at it.”

“Mari,” Han said bluntly. “I didn’t want it for her. And when you’re in the gangs, loving somebody is like putting your heart on a plate and serving it up to your enemies. When I ran the streets, I never went to see Mam and Mari, and I acted like I hated them. I sent them money, but I had to be careful about that. I had Raggers watching the house, but still. All it takes is one careless moment, one street runner who wants to make a name. The time was coming that Mari would have to join up for her own protection.”

“What are you hoping for, for Mari?” Jemson asked softly.

“I dunno. Depends on what she wants.” Han gestured, indicating their surroundings. “She likes it here. Maybe she’d want to be a speaker someday. I think she’d be a good teacher or clerk. Maybe she could find a good castle job. She’s musical. I wish she had the money to go to the conservatory at Oden’s Ford.” Han looked up at Jemson. “That’s the thing. I want her to have a choice.”