Sespian had been patient, or at least silent, thus far, but at this he rolled his eyes, looking every bit like a teenage boy for a moment. “Oh, please, you’re not trying to tell me I got that from him.”
“Ask him to draw something sometime.”
“He does not draw.”
Amaranthe couldn’t tell if there was any curiosity behind the flat denial. She decided not to admit that Sicarius’s only interest in art had apparently come from a cartography class where some tutor had suggested that an assassin ought to be able to draw maps of areas he’d spied upon. Instead, she smiled again and asked, “Who do you think drew the ranmya designs for our counterfeiting scheme?”
“Tracing isn’t drawing,” Sespian muttered. “Though… I suppose the engravings would have to be in reverse… ”
At least he seemed thoughtful over the idea. Amaranthe wouldn’t try to elicit promises or ask for his opinions, not at this point. If she’d started him thinking that his mother had chosen Sicarius, and that there might have been good reasons for that choice, that was enough. She had a feeling she couldn’t do much more anyway. If Sespian and Sicarius were to have any sort of relationship at all, Sicarius would have to figure out the rest.
“We’ll be leaving soon if you want to come,” Amaranthe said.
“To what ends? I’m not the legitimate emperor. As soon as the Forge people get the word out about that, it’ll be true in all senses. And… I would not wish to live a lie, regardless.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that… ” Not really, but she needed to start. If they were going to oust Ravido Marblecrest and keep Forge from implementing their new money plan, they’d need some sort of alternative to push forward. She thought of Books’s words. Creating a new government was a little more comprehensive of an alternative than she’d meant to push forward, but maybe… Maybe the idea had merit. Knowing Books, he’d designed some sort of republic or meritocracy, so there’d be a lot of opposition from those entrenched in the warrior-caste way of life, but all those up-and-coming entrepreneurs would surely love a system where one could reach the highest levels in society and government no matter to whom one had been born. And perhaps a radical change in government might assuage some of the anti-Turgonian sentiment out there from those the empire had conquered or otherwise mistreated over the centuries.
Audacious, girl, she thought. Was she truly contemplating going back to the capital and trying to change a seven-hundred-year-old form of government? Whether it worked or not, it’d probably get her that place in the history books she craved. She chuckled. The men would accuse her of being a megalomaniac. They’d say she was crazy, and this time they’d be right. Maybe she could blame Books. He’d started her ore cart down this track.
“It looks terribly entertaining in there,” Sespian said.
“What?” Amaranthe forced her mind back to the moment.
“In your head.”
“Oh.” This time, her chuckle was more self-conscious. “It’s, uhm, a fascinating place for sure. At least I think so.” Amaranthe stood, extending her hand. “You better come along. This is going to be interesting.”
Sespian regarded it thoughtfully for a moment before accepting it. “Promise?”
“Oh, yes.”