Michelle Sagara - Cast in Chaos

“An Imperial Courier.”

“Please tell me it had nothing to do with me,” she said, without much hope.

“You want me to lie?”

She snorted. “Is Marcus in a mood?”

“Let’s just say he didn’t seem overly surprised.” Which wasn’t much of an answer if the one you wanted was No.

Teela was in the office and at her desk, which was generally a bad sign. She was also on break, which meant she was lounging on a chair that was balanced on its back two legs, and watching the door. Tain was somewhere else, which meant Kaylin only had to deal with one of the Barrani Hawks she sometimes counted as friends. On this particular morning, she couldn’t remember why, exactly.

The fact that Teela rose—gracefully, because it was impossible for a Barrani not to be graceful—the minute she laid emerald eyes on Kaylin made it clear who she’d been watching for. The fact that she was smiling as she sauntered across the usual chaos of the office meant she was amused. This didn’t mean that the news for Kaylin was good, on the other hand.

“Good morning, Private Neya,” the window said. “It is a bright and sunny day, but rain is expected in the late afternoon. Please dress accordingly while you are on duty.”

Teela took one look at Kaylin’s raised brows and laughed out loud.

Kaylin said a few choice words in Leontine.

“Please be aware that this is a multiracial office, and the terms that you are using might give offense to some of your coworkers,” the same window chided.

Kaylin’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Apparently,” Teela said, as her laugh trailed off into a chuckle, “the mage that designed the window to be a cheerful, talking timepiece, was not entirely precise in his use of magic.”

“Which means?”

“Off the record? Someone tampered with Official Office equipment.”

“This is worse. The old window didn’t greet us by name. What the hells were they trying to do?”

“Get it to shut up without actually breaking it.”

“Which seems to be almost impossible. The breaking-it part.”

“So does the shutting-it-up part, if it comes to that.” Teela grinned. “We’ve started a new betting pool.”

“Hell with the pool—we should just make the Hawklord stay in this damn office. The window would be gone in less than a week.” She started to head toward her very small desk.

“Private Neya,” the window said, “you have not checked today’s duty roster. Please check the roster to ascertain your current rounds.”

Teela burst out laughing because Kaylin’s facial expression could have soured new milk. She did, however, head toward the roster because she couldn’t actually break the window, and she was pretty damn certain it would nag her until she checked.

Elani street had been penciled, in more or less legible writing, beside Kaylin’s name. Severn was her partner. There were no investigations in progress that required her presence, although there were two ongoing. The shift started in half an hour. She took note of it as obviously as possible, and then returned to her desk, by way of Caitlin.

“Good morning, dear,” Caitlin said, looking up from a small and tidy pile of papers.

Kaylin nodded, and then bent slightly over the desk. “What happened to the window?”

The older woman frowned slightly. “We’re not officially certain, dear.” Which meant she wouldn’t say. “Sergeant Kassan is aware that the enchantment on the window is causing some difficulty. I believe he is scheduled to speak with the Hawklord.”

“Thank the gods,” Kaylin replied. The window, during this discussion, was in the process of greeting yet another coworker. “Does it do this all day?”

Caitlin nodded. “You weren’t here yesterday,” she added. Her frown deepened. “It not only greeted the employees by name, it also felt the need to greet every person who walked into—or through—the office in the same way.”

“But—”

Caitlin shrugged. “It’s magic,” she finally said, as if that explained everything. Given how Kaylin generally felt about magic, it probably did.

She tried to decide whether or not to ask about the Imperial Courier. Caitlin was the best source of information in the office, but if she felt it wasn’t important or relevant to the questioner, she gave away exactly nothing. Since she was bound to find out sooner or later—and probably sooner—she held her tongue.

“Private Neya!” The low, deep rumble of Leontine growl momentarily stilled most of the voices in the office. Marcus, as she’d guessed, was not in the best of moods. “Caitlin has work to do, even if you don’t.”

“Sir!” Kaylin replied.

“He’s in the office more than anyone else who works here,” Caitlin whispered, by way of explanation. “And I believe the window likes to have a chat when things are quiet.”

Kaylin grimaced in very real sympathy for Old Ironjaw.

“In particular, I think it’s been trying to give him advice.”

Which meant it wasn’t going to last the week. Thank the gods.

“Oh, and, dear?” Caitlin added, as Kaylin began to move away from her desk, under the watchful glare of her Sergeant.

“Yes?”

“This is for you.” She held out a small sheaf of paper.

Kaylin, who had learned to be allergic to paperwork from a master—that being Marcus himself—cringed reflexively as she held out a hand. “Am I going to like this?”

“Probably not,” Caitlin said with very real sympathy. “I’m afraid it isn’t optional.”

Kaylin looked through the papers in her hands. “This is a class schedule.”

“Yes, dear.”

“But—Mallory’s gone—”

“It’s not about his request that you take—and pass—all of the courses you previously failed, if that’s helpful. The Hawklord vetoed that, although I’m sorry to say Mallory’s suggestion did meet with some departmental approval.”

It was marginally helpful. “What’s it about, then?”

Caitlin winced. “Etiquette lessons. And I believe that Lord Sanabalis has, of course, requested that your magical education resume.”

“Is there any good news?”

“As far as we know, nothing is threatening to destroy either the City or the World, dear.”

Kaylin stared glumly at the missive in her hands. “This is your subtle way of telling me not to start doing either, isn’t it?”

Caitlin smiled. “They’re just lessons. It’s not the end of the World.”

“So,” Severn said, when she joined him and they began to head down the hall, “did you speak with Caitlin?”

“Yes. Let me guess. The entire office already knows the contents of these papers.”

“Betting?”

“No.”

He laughed. “Most of the office. How bad is it?”

“Two days a week with Sanabalis.”

He raised a brow.

“With Lord Sanabalis.”

“Better. Isn’t that the same schedule you were on before the situation in the fiefs? You both survived that.”

“Mostly. I think he broke a few chairs.”

“He’d have to.” Severn grinned. “Gods couldn’t break that table.”

It was true. The table in the West Room—which had been given a much more respectful name before Marcus’s time, which meant Kaylin had no idea what it was—was harder than most sword steel. “Three nights of off-duty time with the etiquette teacher.”

“Nights?”

She nodded grimly.

“Is the teacher someone the Hawks can afford to piss off?”

“I hope so.”

“Who’s teaching?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t actually say.”

“Where?”

She grimaced. “The Imperial Palace.”

He winced in genuine sympathy. “I’m surprised Lord Grammayre approved this.”

Kaylin was not known for her love of high society. The Hawklord was not known for his desire to have Kaylin and high society anywhere in the same room. Or city block. Which meant the dictate had come from someone superior to the Hawklord.