Page 76

“I see…to secure alliances and such. It’s the same story in all kingdoms.” Gen stifled a yawn, as if the very thought bored him. “I don’t envy you royals, but at least you have Takkan—where is he?”

“In a meeting with the ministers.” I quickly changed the topic. “How’s your nose? You still don’t want to see the physician?”

Gen wheezed. “I’ll do a better job of healing it than your doctors.”

“Suit yourself.” I gestured at the cobbled path ahead. “Your villa is in the south court. I’ve made it known that you’re my guest, so no one should bother you. Try to stay out of trouble.”

Demons take me, I was starting to sound like Andahai. Usually I was on the receiving end of such warnings.

“You’re not going to give me a tour?” cajoled Gen. “At least show me where the library is. I’ll find materials for you. You could use some magic lessons, you know.”

I thought of Seryu and our lessons by the lake. How he’d once made a flock of birds out of water, and taught me to resurrect Kiki after Raikama tore her to pieces.

“I’d like that, but it’ll have to wait,” I said with an apologetic shake of the head. “I have a full day ahead—my reward for sneaking out yesterday. A morning packed with more ceremonies for Reiji’s wedding, then a fitting with the imperial seamstresses for my own betrothal.” I tried not to make a face about the fitting. “Then I have to see Qinnia.”

“The crown princess?”

I was impressed he knew. “Wandei asked me to give her my sturdiest robes. For what, he won’t say. He can be secretive when he’s plotting something.”

“You’re not looking forward to seeing her.”

I wasn’t. I’d seen Andahai’s wife with my brothers and at morning prayers, but since my first night home—when I’d nearly stabbed her with my eating sticks—I’d been avoiding her, and I sensed the effort was mutual.

She’s in a delicate state, Andahai had said.

I could read between my brother’s words: she must have been traumatized by Bandur, thanks to me. She must hate me. I didn’t blame her.

“What’s wrong?” said Gen. “You look sick.”

“I’m just hoping I won’t have to sew,” I said. A deflection, but it wasn’t untrue.

“Understandable,” responded Gen. “It’s a tedious craft.”

With a cheerful wave, he disappeared into the vast courtyard, and I released a sigh. Gods, I prayed he wouldn’t attract too much attention. At least he hadn’t brought that enormous hawk.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” I asked Kiki.

By midday, Kiki had reported that the young sorcerer was performing sleights of hand for the children of the court and had finagled several dinner invitations from their parents. He’d even donned an illusion to appear older and approached a handful of ministers, winning them over with well-timed compliments and silvery charm. He was going to dazzle them into appreciating magic, he said.

“Ha!” I said. “He really hasn’t spent much time with bureaucrats, has he?”

He’s playing a dangerous game, Kiki muttered. He might be more rash and bold than even you.

“He’ll grow out of it.”

As you have?

I glared at my bird and tossed a set of heavy red robes over my shoulder. My neck instinctively tilted to nuzzle the silk lining, soft as cream.

You sure you want to donate those? asked Kiki.

They were the winter robes I’d received for my sixteenth birthday, lined with wool and sturdy sand silk. Garments I sorely wished I’d had during my long months in Iro last year.

“Wandei asked for my sturdiest,” I replied. “These are it. They’re also red, with a pattern of cranes. All good omens.”

Kiki’s small shoulders heaved. I suppose we’ll need all the luck we can get.

Silently, I agreed. Then I shut my closet door and trudged to my last meeting of the afternoon, the one I was dreading most.