Though the palace was abuzz, he did not have much official business arrive at his desk. Fortunately, wearing the badge of his new rank allowed him free rein to wander much of the palace. The queen's office wing remained barred to him, as did the Akaran family's private quarters, that small city unto itself. Those he needed special permission to access. No matter. Strolling along the upper courtyard gardens, chatting with the guards who seemed a fixture at each gateway, watching the gape-mouthed fish hunt minnows in the pools, striding through corridors past senators and league officials and rich merchants kept him entertained. They all wore such grave faces. Concern hung about their shoulders, worry over the fate of the empire. Delivegu viewed the turmoil as an opportunity, but not one that should spoil his appreciation of his sudden rise in stature.
He flirted with noblewomen when opportunities arose. He did his best to orchestrate chance encounters, especially as one particular girl from Manil positively entranced him, such a small bud of mouth on her, and young enough that he knew, just knew, he would amaze her with his carnal knowledge. Even climbing all the way up to old Edifus's ancient ruins amused him. Good exercise for the legs and lungs and, by the Giver, what a view! The Inner Sea all around, glistening like colored glass lit from below. The tales said the first king was a suspicious, paranoid man. That was why he perched here so high above the sea, with views in all directions. Delivegu doubted that contained all his character. Surely, a man could not choose a spot in the world such as this without an eye for the splendor of it. Edifus, he was sure, had an eye for beauty.
Still, though, the nation faced a crisis. A grave threat. A new enemy and all that. Considering this, he sequestered himself in his offices for at least a few hours each day. He did his best to keep apprised of the workings in the higher reaches of the councillor's offices, sending frequent missives to them, cajoling information out of their tight fists. For his efforts he soon found himself deluged with documents that he was expected-no-not to consider and offer his sage opinion on, but to sort, to stack, to arrange, as if he were a lower order of office employee. He suspected the crates of dusty paper were actually long meant for disposal. He nearly made the mistake of storming into Rialus's office and accosting the staff, but then realized that was likely what they had wanted him to do. Make a fool of himself. Prove that he was not one of the elite, become a laughingstock. Clearly, his promotion did not sit well with some of his new peers. He held his tongue, and perused the piles for something helpful to his advancement.
Late one afternoon Delivegu came across some sort of diagram or architectural survey. He would have tossed it, if his eyes had not touched upon a few words written at the top corner. He recognized the handwriting immediately: Rialus Neptos's. He would have known the crimped writing anywhere. He thought it indicative of the character of the man, which was why Delivegu himself always wrote with bold, strong strokes meant to own the page.
He would have tossed the diagram away right then, except that his secretary stepped in to ask if he needed anything more from her for the day. Not wanting to fully curdle his already dubious mood by looking at her, he sank his head toward the document, murmuring that, no, he did not need her anymore. She asked if he wanted the pile of papers on the floor disposed of. He said that could wait for the morrow. She spoke on a bit longer; Delivegu resolutely kept his eyes on the paper. By the time she left, he realized he might actually have something of interest in his hands.
It was a diagram of buildings viewed as if from above. The longer he stared, the more he believed he saw something familiar in it, something about the shape of the exterior walls and the indication of a jutting portion… Yes, it was the royal palace, the residence areas! As soon as he thought that, he noticed the same words, palace residence, penned in Rialus's hand. Had he read that, or had he figured it out himself? No matter.
He pulled a lamp closer, as his offices were already well in shadow and growing dimmer by the minute, and he made a careful study of the lines and shapes. Equations and architects' notes about materials and descriptions of renovation projects apparently done over the many years crowded the page. Little of it meant much to Delivegu. He did, however, tingle with the suspicion that Rialus's cryptic scribblings had been written after all the rest and had some other import. Half sentences and signs and arrows that could have been meant only as notes to himself, for they confused the diagram more than explained anything. To make it worse, much of what Rialus had written he had later crossed out.
"He makes no sense," Delivegu complained. "A waste of my time…"
Once again, he nearly tossed the diagram onto the pile of papers rising beside his desk. But if it was a waste of time, why had it occupied Rialus so long? He bent and studied it further. It was a map of secret passageways. Of course it was! That was what the broken lines drawn within the walls were! Yes, it did appear that many of the passageways were no longer usable. Some of them Rialus had scratched out with positively angry motions. Had Rialus kept this document at the queen's orders or secretly? That Delivegu could not discern, but it did seem clear that the queen had taken pains to eliminate these passages.
"Suspecting some deceit, were you, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Where's your trust, your faith in your loyal servants?"
If she had suspected treachery, it looked like she had been very effective in sealing the place up. Each time he tried to trace his way in with a finger, he invariably reached a dead end. At least, that was the case until…
"Now, that's interesting," Delivegu said. "That's quite interesting."
Outside, he stood beside the wall in a quiet area of the palace grounds. He would not be able to say later whether the secret entrance had been missed or whether Corinn had allowed it to stay open. Nor could he ask, of course. He suspected that the tunnel had been effectively sealed off for a time, but it appeared to have come open again when a new door was knocked into a once-closed storage space. Perhaps the queen never knew the change was made. But this was conjecture. What he did know was that it existed. Just as the diagram indicated, there was a narrow slit in the southern buttress of the royal quarters, a fissure between two walls just large enough for a person to slip through. It was the strangest thing, for one could stand a few feet away from it and not see the opening for what it was. Even when he did stick his head in, a facing wall met him, making it seem like the opening led nowhere. That was an illusion of the architecture.
Tricky this, Delivegu thought, admiring. He moved farther in.
He had not planned on going far. He just wanted to look, to verify that the tunnel really took him inside. If so, he would retreat and consider how this new information might prove useful. That was his intention, but curiosity kept him moving just a little farther, first into that storage room, then through it down a passage, and still little farther after that. The stones sweated; the air felt musty and close, terribly quiet.
When he stepped out into an ornate hallway, complete with wall hangings and carpets and life-sized statues spaced at intervals, he knew he had accomplished all he needed to for an evening. He strolled a few steps forward just to feel the soft give of the carpet underfoot, inhaling air lightly scented with a citrus incense. Oh, that's nice! This could really suit me. And the statues looked so very real. It made his skin crawl, how textured like real flesh they were, clothed as ancient warriors from around the empire. He could not help but marvel at the work, play at staring these wooden warriors down. He even challenged one to a duel.