Page 25 of Requiem of Silence

“So why hold the vote in the first place?” Darvyn asked, leaning forward. “You are queen. Can’t you just…” He waved a hand in the air. “Make things happen?”

Jasminda smiled wryly. “Wouldn’t that be nice? But this is an issue that is tearing the people apart. Our constitution has a host of barriers to granting blanket citizenship to the Lagrimari—or any other group. And the Council is as divided as the people. The Goddess is not often helpful, but She does know Her way around the law. This vote is really the only way to answer the question once and for all, and quickly. In instances like this, the will of the people can supersede all else. Whatever the Elsiran citizens and the refugees seeking asylum decide will be the new policy going forward, and I think we need to advocate strongly for unity.”

She turned to Nadette, who sat frowning, a faraway expression on her face. “I suppose I should ask your politics on this before we go forward. Are you pro- or anti-unification?”

Nadette focused and blinked rapidly. “Pro-unification, Your Majesty. I think what the Lagrimari people have suffered has been horrific. This land is big enough for us all.”

Relief flooded Jasminda. “So will you help me?”

The woman tapped her finger on her lips and then pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook and pencil from her pocket. She began scribbling rapidly. “I’m thinking a multipart series on life under the thumb of the True Father, printed in the largest newspaper with audio clips on the nightly newsreader’s reports. Tear-jerking stuff: mothers and children separated, man’s inhumanity to man, that type of thing.” She stared at her notes, underlining a word. “I’ll contact Hazelle Harimel, she’s an influential reporter.”

Jasminda groaned internally. “That woman hates me. Every piece she writes is another log on the fire for those who want to burn me in effigy.”

Nadette nodded absently. “So imagine if we’re able to sway her and turn her to our side? What we really need is to humanize the refugees, draw the people in viscerally to their plight.”

While Jasminda was glad the woman was on board and seriously contemplating the options, she balked internally at the idea that the refugees weren’t automatically thought of as human in the first place. However, Ilysara tilted her head, considering. “What about photographic essays on the war orphans and those who survived the camps and the mines? I know some refugees who managed to transport a box of photo negatives from Lagrimar. If we can get them developed, I’m certain there will be some engaging photos there.”

“Yes, that’s excellent,” Nadette replied. The two women continued trading ideas on how best to tug on the heartstrings of the Elsirans, and hopefully push public opinion toward unification.

The phone on the desk across the office rang, and Camm jumped up to get it. Darvyn leaned over to Jasminda. “How can I help?”

“I know you’re not a Keeper of the Promise any longer, but you still have friends among them, right?”

He nodded.

“We need to take the pulse of the refugees. They will get an equal vote and I know they have not exactly felt welcomed here.”

“I’ll get some people on it. When do you expect Jack back?”

Jasminda blinked. “He’ll be in Fremia for two weeks.”

Darvyn looked stunned. “He’s staying after this morning’s attack?” Her gaze darted to the other two at the table. “They can’t hear us,” he said. He must have sung a spell to dampen the sounds of their conversation.

“Oola said that we should keep the attack quiet. So as not to cause alarm.”

“Quiet, yes, from the public but from Jack as well?” He was incredulous and sat back, rubbing the back of his neck. “That is Her playbook, it doesn’t have to be yours. He would want to know.”

“You’re right, he would. But he would rush back and not be able to do anything. She’s right about that. We need Fremia; the wraith attack this morning is an Earthsinger problem.”

“If what I saw in Yaly will be repeated here, it will be a problem for everyone soon enough.” He took a deep breath, face still grim. “This is your choice, but for the record, I think you should tell him.”

Jasminda nodded sadly. He was probably right, but so was Oola.

Camm approached the table. “The Chief of Constables has arrived.”

“All right, I’ll see him in Jack’s office. Thank you.” She turned back to Darvyn. “I’ll need to talk to you afterward about the other new development.” He frowned again; she had little desire to tell him of the True Father’s escape, but he needed to know.

As Camm left the room, she rose, motioning for the othersto stay seated. “I’d like regular updates on your progress. Pull in whomever you need that you feel you can trust. We don’t have much time.”

The women nodded and Darvyn’s expression held both worry and disapproval. She swept out of the room, his doubts following her.

The Chief of Constables, Lennard Floreen, was a man of average height and build. He was clean-shaven with short-cropped hair and a distinct lack of freckles, unusual for an Elsiran. He bowed when Jasminda entered the room and held himself erect with a posture honed in the military.

“Thank you for coming, Chief Floreen. I know that with all of the unrest in the city, your time is even more valuable than ever.”

“I am honored, Your Majesty. How can I be of service?”

She took a seat in an armchair and motioned for him to do the same in the chair next to her. Camm entered with a tray of water and tea and set it on the coffee table between them. He poured Jasminda a cup then retreated to the corner when Floreen declined a refreshment.

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