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clock. It was ten bells. The city would have been awake for hours. Silent walked through the dining room and headed to the door, her face a careful mask. Emily reached out with her senses, readying herself to intervene. Who knew who’d come to visit? The rebels might have tired of being diplomatic and decided to take Prince Hedrick by force. Or one of his former victims might have come for a little revenge.

Silent returned and dropped a curtsey. “My Lady, Councilor Aiden requests the pleasure of an interview.”

“He’s no councilor,” Hedrick snapped. “He’s a filthy muckraker!”

Emily held up a hand to silence him. “I’ll see Aiden in the lounge,” she said. The rebels had said they’d send someone to give her a tour, but she was surprised at the choice. Broadsheet writers tended to have bad reputations. “Please, can you bring us both something to drink?”

“Of course, My Lady,” Silent said.

Hedrick looked as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t quite dare. Emily exchanged glances with Lady Barb, then stood and headed for the lounge. Lady Barb’s wards pulsed around her, assuring her that Aiden had no magic beyond a very slight glamor. Emily frowned as she studied the subtle spell through the wards. She’d never quite seen anything like it. The spell wasn’t designed to attract attention or deflect it. It was designed to...

Something clicked in her mind as she stepped into the lounge. Aiden sat on a hard wooden chair, wearing a simple brown outfit and a little cloth cap. His patchwork clothes were ill-fitting, as if they’d passed through multiple owners before finally being handed down to him. It wasn’t uncommon, outside the aristocracy, but... she leaned forward, noting the scarf wrapped around Aiden’s neck. It wasn’t that cold, not outside. The scarf leant him a rakish look, yet... it was a distraction.

Aiden stood and bowed. “Lady Emily.”

“Just Emily, please,” Emily said. Aiden was the first rebel who’d actually addressed her by title. And he’d bowed... that was interesting. And indicative. “And you don’t have to bow to me.”

“A man should always show proper manners to a young woman,” Aiden said. “And I see no reason to insult you by suggesting otherwise.

Emily smiled as suspicion hardened into certainty. “You’re no more a man than I am. Are you?”

Aiden blinked. “I do beg your pardon?”

“You’re a young woman, not a man,” Emily said. She had to admit it was a good act. She’d have missed it completely if she hadn’t grown up on Earth. “Aren’t you?”

Aiden stared at her for a long moment, then sat back on her chair. “You’re the first person to have seen me,” she said, finally. “How did you know?”

Emily shrugged. “A lot of little things that didn’t quite add up,” she said. The glamor made sense now. It made it harder for anyone looking at Aiden to even consider she might be female. “You make a very convincing man, but... I think, in some ways, you overdo it.”

She looked Aiden up and down. Loose clothes, to hide the shape of her body. A scarf, to conceal her neck. And her hair... Emily guessed it was hidden under the cap. It was a remarkable performance. In a society with strict gender roles, it was unlikely anyone would have thought to question it. Aiden walked like a man, talked like a man... as far as any of her comrades were concerned, she was a man.

“You’ve worn male garb yourself?” Aiden glanced at the walls, suddenly. “Can we be overheard?”

“No.” Emily checked the wards, to be sure. “Can I ask why?”

Aiden frowned. “Can I ask for your word you won’t reveal my secret?”

“Yes,” Emily said. “I won’t reveal the truth unless lives are at stake.”

She smiled, suddenly. “Why did you become a broadsheet writer?”

“It might have been your fault,” Aiden said. She grinned at Emily’s obvious confusion. “My father was a pretty wealthy merchant. He was one of the first people to adopt the New Learning and make it work. He and my mother had ambitions of moving into high society, so... they started attending balls and generally pretending to be aristocrats. They wanted me to marry someone who’d give me rank, if not wealth. Father even blatantly offered to pay a young fool’s gambling debts if he married me.”

“Ouch,” Emily said. “And what happened?”

“We got shunned, of course,” Aiden said. “The aristocratic girls my age looked down on me. They pretended I didn’t exist. So I listened and memorized everything they said, all the rumors and whispers and hints of great things happening below the surface. Jair was just starting his underground newspaper at the time - he’d asked my father for a loan - and I took the stories to him. One thing led to another and... here I am.”

Emily grinned. “You revealed their secrets in print?”

“I didn’t stop there,” Aiden said. “I was listening to the servants too. I learnt secrets and passed them to Jair. He went underground, shortly afterwards... I started to develop my male guise. They all assumed Sharp Ears had to be a man. It rankled at first, then I learn to work with it. There were a couple of close calls, but no one paid any attention to me. If they’d been a little more on the ball...”

“I remember hearing about Sharp Ears,” Emily said. “There was a lot of speculation over your identity.”

“None of them ever got close,” Aiden said. “You know... there were people, before the revolution, who insisted Working Girl had to be a man. They made fun of him for assuming a female name. It never crossed their mind that they might be wrong.”

She frowned. “Have you met her?”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t know her.”

Aiden snorted. “Most of the king’s men were idiots. Once... they nearly caught me, but I was dressed as a maid and they just ran past. Another time... there was a girl who had a crush on me, in my male guise. It was hard to convince

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