Lady Sarnai. Lord Xina. They had been found, and the guards were thrashing them.
Bamboo leaves clung to Sarnai’s back, and water dripped from her long black hair. From the looks of it, they’d made it to the Leyang River before the guards captured her and her lover.
“You won’t be slaughtering any more of my men,” one of the guards was telling her. “Not on my watch. Take her back to her residence, and bring this one to the dungeon.”
I leaned against the wall. A cold knot twisted in my stomach. If not for me, maybe they would have gotten away.
Lady Sarnai’s happiness was a small price to pay for peace, I reminded myself. No more families would suffer the loss that Baba, Keton, and I had felt, when Finlei and Sendo were killed in thewar.
So, why did my relief taste bitter?
An hour later, I had my answer. Minister Lorsa barged into my chamber to announce that the wedding would resume this afternoon with the Procession of Gifts. I was to fit Lady Sarnai into “the stars dress.” Immediately.
• • •
A troop of soldiers patrolled the front of Lady Sarnai’s apartments, and a line of archers stood at the windows behind the rustling willow trees.
No incense burned on her table this morning, and all the lanterns hanging from the ceilings had been taken down. Anything she might have used as a weapon was confiscated.
Wind seeped in through the broken windows, which had been hastily patched with cotton sheets and parchment. The chill raised goose bumps on my skin.
I bowed. “Your Highness, I’ve arrived to dress you for the wedding cele—” I caught my tongue; Lady Sarnai would not view tonight’s festivities as a celebration. “—For the banquet tonight.”
She didn’t rise from her chair. Her rich black hair had been oiled and plaited; in the gleaming sunlight, it shone. But her full lips were cracked with dryness, and her eyes stared glassily ahead. She looked like she might shatter.
But Lady Sarnai was not glass. Stone, perhaps. And stones did not break.
“I could wring your neck with those dresses,” she spoke, her voice low, a growl from a tiger’s throat. “If not for you…”
She gritted her teeth. Hatred unsteadied her breath, and I knew if it weren’t for the guards outside and her lover in prison, she’d make good on her threat.
I lowered my gaze to the ground and chose my next words with care. “I am relieved Your Highness has been returned safely to the Autumn Palace. Ten thousand years of joy and happiness to the Lady Sarnai and His Majesty—”
“Enough!” she barked. “You think by helping Khanujin you will win his favor?”
“No, Your Highness, I do not.”
She leaned back in her chair, her long fingers clasping the wooden arms. “When I am empress, you will be the first topay.”
Her words were a deadly promise, but I wasn’t afraid of her anymore.
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
Lady Sarnai frowned. “You’ve changed,” she observed. “Something about you is different.” A cruel smile formed on her lips. “It’s the enchanter, isn’t it?”
Now my eyes flew up, meeting hers with my own cool stare. That pleased her, and I regretted it.
“There are rumors that he is missing. I assure you such news will greatly interest my father, particularly when I confirm it tonight.”
“The Lord Enchanter is not missing,” I lied.
“Oh? I would not have gotten as far as the Leyang River if Edan were still here.” A little laugh rasped from her throat. “Don’t worry, tailor. Khanujin will hunt him to the ends of the earth to get him back. Or is that not what you want?”
She was trying to hurt me. I’d done her a terrible wrong, and she had nothing left but words to hurl at me.
“I want you to marry the emperor,” I replied. “The wedding is our only hope for peace.”
Contempt spilled across her face. “It is too late for peace.”
