Page 54

“Next for what?”

To be married. To Radish Boy.

That was Kiki’s nickname for Takkan, harking back to the days when I’d worked as a cook in his fortress.

Hearing the name almost made me smile, but marriage to Takkan was the last thing on my mind. I’d been gone for six months. I didn’t dare presume that we could pick up where we had left off.

“He’s probably gone back to Iro,” I said.

Kiki leaned back on the pillow, burying her head under its silver tassels. Knowing him like I do, I doubt that.

“It doesn’t matter. I have to go away soon enough. The pearl’s almost broken in half.”

Your father won’t be happy to hear that. He’s upset enough that you left.

“I’m not worried about Father,” I lied. As soon as I said it, the doors slid open.

I immediately straightened, bowing low as the Emperor of Kiata strode into my room. After everything I’d faced in Ai’long, a meeting alone with Father shouldn’t have made me nervous. Yet as he folded back his sleeves, I steeled myself. The worst sort of reprimand was the one I knew I deserved.

“Seventeen years old, and still as brazen as a child,” said Father. “What a scene you made in front of the A’landans.”

“Forgive me, Father,” I said, my voice a meek counterpoint to his anger.

“Forgive you? Your actions have brought deep shame to me and to your brothers. Most of all, Reiji! It is a miracle the entire marriage has not been called off.”

I knelt at his feet, steeling myself for further rebuke. “I shouldn’t have been so impulsive, I know…but I didn’t want to miss Reiji’s wedding. I’ve already missed so much.”

I stared at the ground, anticipation mounting in my chest.

“You dishonor me,” Father said. Then, to my surprise, he let out a long breath. “And yet, I wouldn’t have expected anything less of my youngest child.”

The words were harsh, though when I looked up, Father was smiling. Just a sliver of a smile, but still it warmed me to see it.

“I’m glad you came to see us right away, Shiori.”

He opened his arms to me, and I practically flew into his embrace, the way I had when I was a little girl. “I missed you, Father,” I whispered.

“And I you, my daughter,” he said. “I prayed every day for your return. It appears the gods heard me.”

I lifted myself from his arms and shuffled back to my place. “I didn’t start a war by barging in on the ceremony, did I? I know the A’landans are mulish about their traditions—”

“You didn’t start a war,” said Father. “At worst, the ambassadors will spread the word about how the youngest princess of Kiata is disrespectful and brash, but I care little what the A’landans think.”

“It’s the truth anyway,” I admitted slyly.

“Is it now? I find you much changed, daughter. You and your brothers.” He touched the prayer plaques that Qinnia had stacked on the corner table, and his countenance turned grave. “A part of my spirit died when you all disappeared. It has only started to return.”

I wished I knew how to comfort him. The father I’d grown up with never needed comforting. He’d always had Raikama by his side.

He said, solemnly, “When you were gone, your stepmother said that she often dreamt you were alive. I took more solace in that than you can know.”

Raikama had told him we were alive? Ironic, given she’d been the one to curse us.

My chest gave a little twinge. “I was with her when she passed,” I said softly. “She told me to tell you she was sorry. She cared for you very much.”

Father’s face drew long and thin, the ghosts hidden in his eyes coming to the surface.

“Your brothers said you left on a journey at her behest,” he said. “One that took you far beyond our realm.”