“You there,” Lirin said. “What is that on your head?” Venli turned to find the surgeon confronting one of the water bearers. Lirin pushed back the hair on the man’s head and pointed. She hummed to Irritation—the surgeon was generally calm, but once in a while something set him off. She strode over to settle the situation, to find that the water bearer—a short man with far too much hair on his body—had painted his forehead with some kind of ink. “What is that?” Venli asked. “Nothing, Brightness,” the man said, pulling out of Lirin’s grip. “Just a little reminder.” He moved on, but one of the
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