Scott Lynch

“Government affairs are a bit beyond our experience,” said Jean.

“Nonsense. You’ll feel right at home. What is government but theft by consent? You’ll be moving in a society of kindred spirits.”

“Yes, I like it a lot, it’s all worth having to bathe, even!”

“Hmmm,” said Chains. “You live long enough for your stones to drop, then tell me if bathing is really such a hardship when the young women around you have bosoms that are more than theoretical.”

“What? When my what?”

“Never mind. That subject will be sufficiently confusing in its own good time.”

Sabetha threw her own shoes and costume components on the tiles near the bath. She retained only her black hose and a dressing gown. Locke did his best to look like he wasn’t staring, and she did an admirable job of pretending she wasn’t encouraging him.

“Why the hell are you here?”

“A matter of conscience.”

“Really?” said Locke. “Yours? You keep alluding to its existence. Somehow I’m not convinced.”

How you deal with it I must and will leave to you, not out of despair or resignation but in deference to my conscience, that broken clock which I believe is now chiming one of its occasional right hours. I will not question your reasons. It is enough for you to tell me that you wish to keep this distance between us, and it will always be enough. Know that a single word will bring me running, but unless and until it pleases you to give it, I will expect nothing, force nothing, and contrive nothing contrary to your wishes.

I desire you as deeply as I ever have, but I understand that the fervor of a desire is irrelevant to its justice. I want your heart on merit, in mutual trust, or not at all, because I cannot bear to see you made uneasy by me. Not for all the world would I do so again, and I leave it to you to tell me how to proceed, if and when you can, if and when you will.

“Remember when I told you, for the first time? You nearly threw me off the roof—”

“I thought you deserved it. You know, it’s an opinion I return to from time to time, whether or not a roof is available.”

“You’re a difficult woman, Sabetha. But then, difficult women are the only ones worth falling in love with.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever been after anyone else—”

“That part’s easy. I started with the most difficult woman possible, so there was never any need to look any further.”

“You’re trying to be charming.” She squeezed his hand once, then pulled away. “I choose not to be entirely charmed, Locke Lamora.”

“Not entirely?”

“Not entirely. Not yet.”

The sun is up, and all that money out there won’t steal itself.

“That’s not worth worrying about. If pressed I’ll use the never-fail universal apology.”

“What’s the n-never-fail universal apology?”

“‘I was badly misinformed, I deeply regret the error, go fuck yourself with this bag of money.’”

“I never even liked cats all that much.”

“Surely you realize,” said Patience, “that cats are no great respecters of human opinion.”

“You’re taking the world awfully personally. Didn’t Chains ever tell you about the Golden Theological Principle?”

“The what?”

“The single congruent aspect of every known religion. The one shared, universal assumption about the human condition.”

“What is it?”

“He said that life boils down to standing in line to get shit dropped on your head. Everyone’s got a place in the queue, you can’t get out of it, and just when you start to congratulate yourself on surviving your dose of shit, you discover that the line is actually circular.”

“I’m just old enough to find that distressingly accurate.”

“You see? It’s universal,” said Locke.

“You rule the Bondsmagi,” said Locke, incredulously.

“Rule is too strong a term. We do occasionally manage to avert total chaos.”

They’ll be fine, and wiser for the experience. Young minds are brittle. Oldsters, now, we’ve had some disappointments. We’ve set aside the notion that we’re the center of the universe, so our minds bend with strain instead of meeting it head-on.