The fittings of Sonder's and Lacuna's robes took the rest of the afternoon. Sonder hadn't expected the ordeal; tailors came and went, measuring, stitching, and layering fabric with unnerving precision.
Nesh robes were not pulled from shelves; they were made for the wearer alone.
The cloth was shades of dark yellow and light brown; the spirals woven so fine they could barely be seen.
Hers was cut slim and light to endure Gloam's heat. Lacuna's was heavier, the folds chosen to lend him a bulk he did not truly have.
When at last they stood dressed, Sonder could hardly recognize herself in the polished bronze of the mirror. She looked like she belonged to the Nesh.
Not fully, yet close enough
When the doors opened again, Thiliel entered with another figure. He was about the same height as her, his skin a darker red and his hair a thick, blunt mohawk.
"Thalael," Thiliel said, her gravel voice dipping softer, though no less commanding.
He inclined his head once. His eyes, narrow and sunken, passed over Sonder and Lacuna with brief interest before he looked back at Thiliel.
"You sent for me, sister," he said, his voice dry as bone.
"I did." She stepped beside him. "I saw strength today. I saw something even our own blood would struggle to muster."
Thalael's expression did not shift. "These outlanders?"
"Just her," she corrected.
He nodded slowly. "If she is as you say, then she may yet be of use. But why call for me?"
"Almost a year has passed since the Hoar took your son. Our petitions and appeals are like sand in the wind. She will get us what we want." Thiliel folded her hands. "You hear it, outlander? This is the cost Nesh asks of you. One year ago, House Hoar seized Vhereli, my nephew and Thalael's son. They deny it, they obfuscate, but we know. Yet we cannot move against them openly. The rules bind us tighter than chains. Attack them, break etiquette, and we lose all standing. We would not only fail, we would be shamed."
Her eyes narrowed. "But you are not bound by our rules. You are no Thole. You are an outlander with nothing to lose, and, as of yet, no official connection to us. That is your power, and we will use it. Tomorrow, both Nesh and Hoar are bound to attend court. It is a session that will drag the lords and their highest into ritual words, binding oaths, and endless speeches. Neither house can ignore it, nor leave their seat unattended by any of weight."
Her eyes fixed sharply on Sonder. "That is when you will go. While their elders preen themselves in court, you will search the Hall of Hoar. Find proof of what they've done, kidnapping or worse, or, if the threads of fortune are kind, find the boy himself. Do you understand?"
"I do," Sonder said.
"Bring me word, bring me proof, and House Nesh will owe you more than a favor. Fail, and you will be less than dust in this city. But succeed-" her lips curved into what could be called a smile, "and you may become the highest-ranking outlander Nesh has ever known."