Dearest Zann,

I took Ellewen up on his offer to visit him at the Public Bureau. “Ybel!” he said. I thought he seemed genuinely glad to see me. He nodded at his fellow clerks, Ebe and Rodaro. They waved him off, indicating they could handle things. I guessed Ellewen’s participation at the Bureau was voluntary and irregular.

“I’ve brought you back your things,” I said, holding up the sphere and ring that had helped heal me.

“Yes, thank you, come on back,” he answered, leading me to a door around the corner. I followed him. Inside was a small shady room with a large window looking out on a grassy little cranny in the side of the Comet Halls. Chairs and table, some books, some plants, a divan. A border-bridge set. “You’re looking well. You move stiffly, though. Do your wounds still trouble you?”

“Only a little,” I said. “Thanks to you. No, the stiffness is because one of my underlings feels the need to punish me with stick-fighting drills every day.”

“Of course. Please, sit.”

I sat, and put the sphere and ring on the table. “It was lucky for me that you came along when you did. Tell me, please, if you don’t mind, what is your role here at the palace?”

“Ah. No, I don’t mind. Well, perhaps I have no official role. I am something of an embarrassment to my people. You see, I first came to Crideon long before the rest of my kin did. I’ve always been curious about it, you see. The city, and your people, and your ways. Fascinating. It’s not an attitude most of us have. They’d like to pretend I’m not here, but my knowledge is just too useful. Generally my talents are best employed down here at the Bureau, where I can, oh, translate between the needs of the people and the ideas of the Valnelatar court.”

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know any of you ever came here. You… what should I call your people? You know we call you ‘laurans’.”

“Yes, it’s very funny,” he said, pouring some of that cloying honey drink for us. “Well, our proper name is–” and here he said a word with a lot of Ls and Rs and things in it, and a couple of birdcalls and the scent of peonies “–but you should just say ‘greenkind’. That will never offend.”

“Why ‘greenkind’?”

He sipped. “We pretend a great affinity for plants and trees and other growing things. And, having pretended it, we are very proud of it.”

“Oh. Well, then, greenkind. Thank you. So, you like it here?”

“There is much about the Crideon lands to admire. It’s like our home in many ways. But it isn’t really home.”

“Then…” I could feel him looking at me. And I decided not to ask the next question. He probably wouldn’t answer it. And what if he did? Maybe some other time. Instead, I said, “Some time ago, I met another… greenkind. Down at the docks.”

“Oh, yes?”

“He was having some supplies loaded on his foamcraft. But he seemed sick. And sad. His foamcraft was in bad shape, too; stained with algae and filth. I wouldn’t mind speaking to him again; do you know who he could be?”

“How strange. No, I’ve no idea. Would you like me to see if I can find out?”

“Yes, please, if you can. Is there any service I can do for you, in return for all your kindness?”

“You can tell me what you think,” he said.

“About what?”

“About anything. Whatever’s happening in the palace, in the city, in your life. I think our peoples must begin to know each other. But my kin are stubbornly uninterested in that. Well, perhaps I can remedy it, a little.”

It sounded a lot like spying. But, I thought, I could just not tell him anything sensitive, assuming I knew it in the first place. “Happy to,” I said.

Then we played border-bridge. I lost both games, which is normal, but I thought I put up a better fight than I usually do.

Love,

Zann