“Yes, one popped out of the lockers on the rescue flyer,” Kiem said. He was still leaning on Jainan, and Jainan didn’t think it was all theatrics. “I just attract them. Pheromones.” Jainan choked.

“They’re trying to get hold of you. A couple of outlets picked up that local report about your no-show at Braska. Don’t reply. I’ve been told by the spies that they need this to disappear for the sake of the fucking Resolution”—his expression made it very clear that Press Office wasn’t any fonder of Internal Security than Rakal was of them—“so I’ll need a statement and a short vid from you.”

“Can do,” Kiem said. He was clearly trying to put energy into it, but for once it wasn’t working. “I’ll put something together tomorrow. Leave it to me.”

“I’ll need some handling detail for the—”

“Hren Halesar,” Jainan said, cutting in midsentence with his formal name.

“His highness is tired from travel, and we have to take a shuttle tomorrow on Imperial business. You will kindly allow us to shower and rest.”

Hren turned on him in astonishment, but his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to need more than—”

“Oh, shit, Hren, actually,” Kiem said, interrupting him for the second time,

“you’re just the person I want, come to think of it.” He pulled something bulky out of his jacket pocket and pressed it on Hren.

Hren looked down at the golden trowel in his hands. “The fuck is this?”

“It’s a trowel,” Kiem said.

Jainan said gravely, “It’s very important.”

“Get that back to Braska Prime with a good apology, would you?” Kiem said.

“Great opportunity for good press. Write them a flowery letter. Oh, and you’d better let them know I’m not dead. Tell them I’ll call them—”

“You’ll call them when you don’t look like death,” Jainan put in.

“I’ll call them when I don’t look like death. Take care of the trowel. Just the man. Knew I could count on you.”

“Excuse me,” Jainan said to the nurse. “His highness is in poor condition and needs to get to the clinic.”

“No kidding,” said the nurse, who had been trying to put a blood-pressure patch on Kiem’s wrist for the past two minutes. “This way, Your Highness.”

“And lice. I think I’ve got lice,” Kiem said mournfully, stepping close enough to Hren to make him take a sharp step back. “Wouldn’t get in the elevator with me. ’Scuse me.” He disappeared into the elevator with the nurse.

Jainan traded a glance with Bel and followed Kiem. Bel went to take Hren aside and presumably give him enough information to keep him away from Kiem until tomorrow. “Lice?” Jainan murmured as he followed Kiem into the elevator.

“Well-known side effect of hypothermia,” Kiem said.

“Of course,” Jainan said. “As is talking nonsense, I believe. I’ll pick up some of your clothes and meet you at the clinic.”