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“Nothing. I didn’t see anything.” Her brothers hated the Drakan boot more than anyone else. If they’d seen the princes alone in the market, they would’ve attacked, no matter what the consequences were. They could just about stomach trading with Drakan merchants for necessaries, but they hated the royals, who symbolized all the brutality that the Drakans had brought to the planet.
A piercing baby’s cry interrupted them.
“I need to check on her.” Hoa walked out, away from her brother and her son. His daughter, her granddaughter, had just woken up from her nap.
“It’s okay,” Hoa cooed to the tiny baby who was doing her best to get as much attention as she could. “It’s okay.” She picked the baby up out of her cradle and held her. The baby stopped crying.
The baby’s whole body was shaking with hiccups from the ferocity of her crying.
Hoa walked in a slow circle around the baby’s room. She pulled from the wellspring of peace in the center of her chest to chant the song of Aloka, the Yore queen who had ruled the Yore for two decades. After she died, she became a spirit of health and hope.
Even now, there were Yore priestesses who made regular offerings to her spirit. Most Yore only knew her song, used as a lullaby.
It could give hope in the darkest circumstances. The song could fill their hearts with light when they were near being overcome with despair. It was the last strength of the Yore.
The baby let out a little chirp.
“Hungry, baby?” Hoa walked the baby into their small kitchen, reaching for a bottle. Her daughter-in-law would love to feed the baby herself, but she was still working.
She got a pillow and fed the baby carefully. Her granddaughter had eyelashes long enough to rest on her cheeks.
When the bottle was done, her eyes had drifted all the way shut. Even though she’d just woken up, she was ready to be put down for another nap. She was still at the age when she slept constantly.
She put the baby back into her room. She realized abruptly that her son and brother had vanished. Where could they have gone?
She looked down at her darling granddaughter. She hoped that by the time she was an adult, the Yore would be free again. It was a possible future.
11
Tally Boards
Gahariet
“You’re crazy. He’ll never make it.” The two of them walked away from the tally boards.
“He’s got a crazy uppercut and he’s great in a pinch. So what if he’s a little short? He’s got so much power. He’s so good in the ring. People barely touch him.”
“You just want to cheer for the underdog.”
“Guilty.”
Olivier nearly slammed into a man. Gahariet put a hand on his brother’s arm.
Olivier let out a little bit of flame.
“Watch where you’re going,” he snapped at the man, who had the wall.
Olivier’s body language dramatically changed when they saw who it was.
“Hello, Marc.”
The owner of the Alrech Auction House was rubbing his hands together, the events of just seconds before forgotten when he looked at good prospects.
“Looking for a little excitement.”
Before Gahariet could stop him, Olivier said, “Yes.”
“What do you have?” Gahariet asked.
