City of Stairs (The Divine Cities, #1)(78)

“Why, keep going. You didn’t break down after six days of psychological torture.”

Shara paused, the tines of her fork stuck in a chicken breast.

“You don’t want to tell me?” asked Vinya.

“It’s … embarrassing.”

“I’m your aunt, dearest.”

“You’re also my commanding officer.”

“Oh …” She waved a hand. “Not tonight. Tonight’s our last night together for a long while.”

“A long while?”

“Well. Not that long, dear. So—how?”

“I thought …” Shara swallowed. “I thought about my parents.”

Vinya’s mouth flexes. “Ah.”

“I thought about what they must have gone through when they died. I’ve read the stories; I know that the Plague is an … a hard way to go.”

Vinya nodded sadly. “Yes. It is. I saw.”

“And I thought about them, and about what all of Saypur must have gone through under the Continent … All the slavery, and the abuse, and the misery. And suddenly it was so easy to sit through it. The music, no sleep, no water, no food, the questions, over and over … Nothing they could ever do to me would be like that. Nothing.”

Vinya smiled and took off her glasses. “You are, I think, the most ferocious patriot I have ever seen. I am so proud of you, my dear. Especially because, well … We were worried, for a bit.”

“About what?”

“Well, my dear … I always knew you had a fancy for history. That was always your forte at Fadhuri. Especially Continental history. And then when you came to us, and we gave you access to the classified material, where we keep the things we don’t even allow them to teach at Fadhuri … Why, you spent hours in there memorizing all those moldy old texts! This fascination, in government, is considered a little … unhealthy.”

“But they explained so much!” said Shara. “I had only been taught pieces of things at Fadhuri. So much had been missing, but then there it all was, right on the shelves!”

“What we should concern ourselves with,” said Vinya, “is the present. But more so, Shara, I admit I was worried that you were tainted by that boy you used to dally about with at school.”

Shara’s face soured. “Don’t talk to me about him,” she snapped. “He’s dead to me. He was worthless and deceitful, as is the rest of the damnable Continent, I bet.”

“I know, I know,” said Vinya. “You have gone through a lot. I knew when you came out of school you wanted to change the world, for it to live up to all your dreams of how Saypur should be.” She smiles sadly. “And I know that that is probably why you investigated Rajandra in the first place.”

Shara looked at her, startled. “Auntie … I—I don’t want to ta—”

“Don’t fear the past, darling. You must accept what you did. You suspected Rajandra Adesh of wrongdoing. You thought he was misusing funds from the National Party. And you were right. He was misusing party funds. He was wildly, wildly corrupt. That’s true. And I think by exposing him, you wished to impress me, impress us all. But you must know that if corruption is powerful enough, it’s not corruption at all—it’s law. Unspoken, unwritten, but law. Such was the case here. Do you understand?”

Shara bowed her head.

“You have ruined the career of the man everyone thought would inherit the prime minister’s seat. You have destroyed a ruling party’s leadership. Your investigation even pushed the party treasurer to attempt suicide. The poor bastard couldn’t even competently pull off his own suicide—he tried to hang himself in his office, but wound up ripping the water pipes clear out of the ceiling.” Vinya tuts. “You are a Komayd, dear, and that will protect us, some. But this will have repercussions for years.”

“I’m so sorry, Auntie,” says Shara.

“I know. Listen—the world is full of corruption and inequality,” says Vinya. “You were raised a patriot, to love Saypur and to believe that its virtues must be extended to all the world—but this is not your job. Your job in the Ministry is not to stop corruption and inequality: rather, these are tools in your bag to be used to aid Saypur in every way possible. Your job is to make sure the past never happens again, that we never see such poverty and powerlessness again. Corruption and inequality are useful things: if they benefit us, we must own them fully. Do you see?”

Shara thought of Vohannes then: You paint your world in such drab cynicisms. …

“Do you see?” asked Vinya again.

“I see,” said Shara.

“I know you love Saypur,” said Vinya. “I know you love this country like you loved your parents, and you wish to honor their memory, and the memory of every other Saypuri who died in struggle. But you will serve Saypur in the shadows, and Saypur will ask you to betray its virtues in order to keep it safe.”

“And then …”

“Then what?”

“Then, when I’m done … I can come home?”

Vinya smiled. “Of course you can. I’m sure your service will only last a handful of months! We’ll see each other again very soon. Now eat up, and get some rest. Your ship leaves in the morning. Oh. It is so good to see my niece working for me!”