Dried blood, nearly black, clotted above his lips. His nose had been broken, his throat, neatly sliced—by someone with a steady hand who knew where to deliver the quickest, quietest death. His uniform, stolen.
Outside the bedchamber, Ammi screamed. I guessed she’d found the other dead guards.
• • •
“Well done,” Emperor Khanujin said when we reported what we’d found.
Bowing low at my side, Ammi beamed. The whole walk over to the emperor’s royal apartments, her emotions had wavered between horror at finding the dead bodies and eagerness to be in the emperor’s presence.
Now the horror was forgotten, but I couldn’t fault her. Even a glimpse of the emperor’s receiving chamber was more than a maid of her station might ever hope to see.
I wished I shared her excitement, but I felt only the sharp sting of regret.
“She’ll be dressed as a guard,” I said quietly. “Lord Xina, too. They left with the search parties so they wouldn’t draw attention. They can’t have gotten too far.”
From behind a tall wooden screen that obscured our view of him, the emperor spoke again.
“The two of you discovered this? No one else?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If what you say is true, then you will be rewarded. You are dismissed.”
I started to lift myself, but the emperor’s headdress tinkled. “Master Tamarin.” Dread washed over me before he even uttered his next words. “A moment.”
Ammi flicked me a curious glance, and I mustered a smile to assure her everything would be all right. But, in truth, I had a bad feeling about this.
He waited until the doors shut with a snap and we were alone. “You were not in the palace this afternoon.”
“His Majesty had graciously given me the day off from my duties as imperial tailor.”
The emperor’s tone became harsh. Deadly. “Where were you?”
No more games. He knew I was aware of the enchantment Edan had cast over him, and why he hid himself behind that wooden screen.
“I went to the shrine to pray,” I lied, “for good fortune, in anticipation of His Majesty’s wedding.”
The emperor’s shadow leaned back, and he sniffed, sounding unconvinced. “I’m sure you are aware the Lord Enchanter is missing.”
So, he hadn’t found Edan.
“I was not,” I lied again.
Irritation pricked Khanujin’s voice. “I find that difficult to believe, Master Tamarin, given I am told he was last seen withyou.”
My pulse quickened. “Your Majesty, I have not seen the Lord Enchanter since I presented the dresses to Lady Sarnai.”
“You dare to tell me more lies?” Angrily, Emperor Khanujin rose and stepped into the light. I bent into a bow, not daring to look up.
The cold tip of a dagger lifted my chin, hooking me like a fish from the water.
The glow of the emperor’s glorious former self had faded, but it wasn’t all gone yet. His height was still imposing, his shoulders still square and proud, his voice still smooth enough to charm a tiger into its cage.
But his face had begun to change. Cosmetics disguised the sallowness of his skin. His mouth pursed with cruelty, his teeth were larger and more crooked, and his eyes, which I’d once thought radiated the warmth of midsummer, were cold as a snake’s.
The emperor flinched, noticing me stare. “I’ll not ask you again. Where has the Lord Enchanter gone?”
His dagger bit into my skin, and I glanced at my reflection on its smooth blade. I hardly recognized the girl I saw, or the calm voice that uttered, “I would not dare lie to His Majesty. Truly, I do not know.”
