Page 51 of Reaper Said Mine

“I considered bringing emergency crackers, but that felt like cowardice with crumbs.”

His mouth twitches. “You may still want crackers.”

“That bad?”

“That depends on the course and the cook’s mood.”

“Is Rikka cooking?”

He looks genuinely startled. “Who told you about Rikka?”

“Three dockworkers, one medic, a merchant, and a child named Griv who tried to sell me information for dessert money.”

“Griv is a criminal.”

“Griv is six.”

“He can be both.”

I tuck the compad under one arm. “Is Rikka good?”

“She has fed warriors after battle, mothers after birth, captains after victory, and prisoners before judgment. She is good enough that people forgive her personality.”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“That sounds like a warning. Rikka believes food should either nourish, test, or teach regret.”

The fountain comes into view, surrounded by the usual morning chaos. Children crowd one side of it with learning slates. A gray-skinned teacher counts heads while threatening to assign extra glyph practice to anyone who climbs the engine housing again. A Grolgath aide passes by, sees Vesk speaking with me, and immediately looks away with theatrical disinterest.

Vesk notices. “You are being watched.”

“I know.”

“You do not look worried.”

“I am too busy being mocked.”

“That should worry you.”

“Mockery is familiar territory.”

He studies me, then gestures toward an alcove beside a shuttered parts stall. “Show me your notes.”

I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, reporter. If you are going to embarrass yourself in front of my people, I prefer the embarrassment to be difficult.”

“That almost sounded helpful.”

“Do not tell anyone. I have a reputation.”

I hand him the compad. His enormous fingers handle it with surprising delicacy as he scrolls through my notes. Every few seconds, he grunts. Once, he frowns hard enough that I lean closer despite myself.

“What?” I ask.

“This note says eye contact during a toast is respectful.”

“Professor Lorr said⁠—”