“Your Highnesses.” Nohe gestured to a low table surrounded by cushions. She took the covering off several dishes, and my stomach twisted with hunger, dismissing how easily she had gotten rid of Lord Fuyii.
The man had been like a leech since the imperial ship had arrived to take Eonaî south: he’d clung to her, unwilling to give up his one chance to get back into the court’s good graces. For someone who’d seen his job to train Eonaî as a prison sentence, he was very willing to drink the fine wine Eonaî had made from the poor grapes of his teaching.
“The emperor is with his ministers at the moment, but he asked me to make you comfortable until he’s available for court.” Nohe bowed low to us again, her fingers forming a triangle above her forehead in a sign of great respect. “I will leave you, but if you have need of me, you can ring one of the bells.”
She gestured to the golden bells positioned on each wall. Then, with a final bow, she walked out a much smaller door, clearly only used by servants.
“Well,” I said, examining the room. Everything was gold, from the carefully decorated walls to the stitching in the cushions. A statue of a golden tree took up most of the space, lit from above by a skylight so it looked as though the sun itself was blessing it. “That was efficient.”
“It was disrespectful,” Eonaî pointed out. “We’ve journeyed how long, and the emperor can’t make time to see us?”
“You know how it is with wars”—I leaned over and plucked a small, orange fruit off one of the dishes—“they don’t stop even when your pretty wife shows up.”
“Betrothed. Not wife. Not yet,” Eonaî corrected. “Airón?—”
Footsteps moved in the servants’ hallway. I held up a hand, and Eonaî quieted. We both stared expectantly at the door, but the footsteps continued past us to the room where Lord Fuyii had been so neatly discarded.
A soft chime rang in the other room, and whatever Fuyii said in response was muffled. When I glanced at Eonaî, she shrugged. Moving quietly, we both approached the door between our room and Fuyii’s, leaning close to hear through it.
“Count Sotonam.” Lord Fuyii inhaled unsteadily. “The emperor sentyou?”
“So, Fuyii.” Sotonam used the familiar address, not even granting Lord Fuyii his title. “After all that, you crawled north to pickle yourself in alcohol and do what? Teach one of the barbarians to pretend at being an empress?”
“Sotonam.” Lord Fuyii addressed him with the same informality. “You managed to squirm back into court. What did you give up to become…”
He trailed off, and the pause lengthened.
Sotonam’s voice was maliciously pleased. “Minister of Peace. While you took a position as a servant of the Northern King. How very creative of you. I suppose when Emperor Millu banished you, he could not have thought of a more appropriate punishment.”
“I trained the future empress!” Lord Fuyii raised his voice, as though he’d done more than lecture and hit us with his fan when we ate an imperial meal in the wrong order.
“Perhaps. We will have to see what the emperor says. Maybe he won’t like her, given thatyoutrained her.” Sotonam’s voice moved as though he was getting closer to the door.
“I made her to Emperor Millu’s desires. Idoknow them. I fetched all his girls for him.” Lord Fuyii sounded satisfied.
“Oh, you are behind the times,” Sotonam said. “Emperor Millu is dead.”
“Dead?” Fuyii coughed. “No. No one said anything on the voyage. How?”
“We thought the north had spies, but perhaps we overestimated their abilities.” Sotonam put something down with an audible click.
“How?” Fuyii asked. “What happened? A battle?”
“A strange illness overtook Emperor Millu, his wife, and son. All died while they were summering at the Lakeshore Palace. Away from court and the royal physicians. It happened so quickly,” Sotonam said.
“Prince Tallu died with him?” Fuyii’s voice trembled. “Who is emperor, then? What will become of the Imperium?”
“No. You mistake. Emperor Millu’syoungerson, Prince Hallu, died.” Sotonam turned away, his voice in the wrong direction to hear it clearly. “Tallu is emperor now.”
“Tallu? No, he was just a boy.” Fuyii’s frown was audible, the confusion making his words curl up at the end, not quite a question.
“Tallu is no boy. He is a viper.” Sotonam’s voice was lethal, vicious. It was a blade drawn across an unsuspecting neck. “He was the one who revealed your plot to Emperor Millu. He is more ruthless than his father, and he knows every secret in the palace. He has exiled or had killed at least seven members of the council. I suspect more.”
Lord Fuyii murmured, “No.”
“Yes,” Sotonam said. “So I come to you with a proposition. We want to know all the secrets of these… northerners. Tell me what you know, and I will inform the emperor of your service. Perhaps he will even grant you leave to take up residence in one of the conquered lands. Tavornai or the Blood Mountains…”
Silence stretched in the room. I couldn’t hear anything, even with my ear pressed hard against the door.
