“How disappointing,” Alabaster muttered, then replaced his spectacles and picked up his ivory eating sticks.
“I want us to be friends, Alder,” he said, picking at the food. “Voice Rill is a respectable man, but the gulf of rank between us is too wide for friendship. Cinder is a militant brute. We can work together, but he and I will never be companions.”
“Gladly, Alabaster,” I said. “Though I fear I will have little time to spend with you. Dealing with the Windcallers seems no easy task.”
Alabaster waved dismissively and filled my cup. “No easy task, but not one to occupy much of your time. There is nothing to be done.” His voice grew more heated as he spoke. “They are an incorrigible lot.”
Alabaster leaned back in his chair. He removed his spectacles and patted his brow with a handker
