“No, Ryko.” Yuso shook his head, the strength of his opposition drawing him level with the islander. “It is not good strategy to have His Highness and the Lady Dragoneye on one horse.”
The islander raised his chin. “It is in this case, captain. We can surround and protect both while still maintaining speed.”
Yuso studied his subordinate. “And if we are pursued and engaged, we could lose both. No, better to split up our treasures than have them in one place for the taking.”
“Enough,” the emperor said wearily. “We do not have time for this. Lady Eona will ride with me. Ju-Long has a strong heart, but he is almost spent, and a lighter load will make the difference.”
The two soldiers bowed.
The emperor looked down at his blood-streaked mourning robe. “Lady Dela, find me something to wear. This robe no longer honors my father. The rest of you, pair off with an eye to saving the horses.”
“This way, Your Majesty.” Dela ushered him past us and into the stable.
“You should eat more of that fruit,” Vida said, motioning to the travel rations tied to my sash. “It is going to be a hard day.”
“Vida,” Solly called. “Bring those feed bags over here.”
She nodded again at my rations, then slung the long, bulging bags over her shoulder. I turned my attention to Ryko and his fellow guard as they checked saddles and stirrups. Heavy silence weighted the air. What had happened in the courtyard to cause such tension? An image of Haddo, sword through his chest, leaped into my mind.
Hurriedly, I untied the fruit string from my sash, focusing fiercely on the task to stop the terrible image. The string finally came free and I tore off a large chunk of dried plum. The whole piece went in to my mouth — a boy’s habit that would have to change — but this time, no one was watching. I closed my eyes and chewed into a sudden flood of dusty sweetness. As though the sugary fruit had been a trigger, I felt deep fatigue wash over me. All I wanted was to sleep — to find some respite from the blood and horror — but a day of hard riding was ahead. I sent up a small prayer to the gods: Help me stay on the emperor’s horse. And help me find a way to live with these insistent ghosts.
“Lady Eona.”
I opened my eyes. The emperor stood before me dressed in a plain brown tunic and trousers. A high collar covered the Imperial Pearl, although I could see the top of the rough stitches that secured the gem to his skin. I quickly swallowed the remains of the plum.
“Your Majesty,” I said, and started to bow. Halfway down, he caught my arm, guiding me up again.
“This is not the time or place for court etiquette.” He let go. “I see that you are no longer lame. Surely a gift from the gods for your courage.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but did not get the chance.
“You have my gratitude,” he continued. “For pulling me out of the killing rage. I know …” He paused, his dark eyes suddenly bleak. “I know everything that happened. Your courage and loyalty …”
“Everything?” I echoed. Did he know Kinra’s swords had tried to kill him?
He stared through me. “I can see every one of them. Every face.”
Ah. I was not the only one struggling with ghosts. Although I knew I should not ask about the soldiers in the courtyard, the shared horror of the morning and his pained gratitude made me bold again. I touched his arm.
“Did you kill those injured men, too?”
He stiffened, the vast chasm of rank once again between us. “That was a military decision, Lady Eona. Do not overstep your station.”
“Your father would not have done such a thing,” I said.
“You do not know what my father would or would not have done.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ryko and the other guard turn from their preparations. But I could not leave it be; I wanted Kygo to be his father’s son.
“Did you kill them?” I asked again. “Tell me you did not.”
“Who are you to speak to your emperor like that? You are not my Naiso; I do not take advice or criticism from you,” he said coldly. “You are not even a true lord. Know your place, woman.”
For a moment, his dismissal robbed me of my voice. Then something seared through the bindings of duty and fear. Was it my own anger, or was it the last embers of Kinra’s ancient rage? I did not know and, suddenly, I did not care. All I knew was that it was strong and it was mine.
“I am the Ascendant Dragoneye,” I said through my teeth. “Whether I am lord or lady or neither, I am your only link to the dragons. Remember that.”
The truth of my words registered in the dark flare of his eyes.
He moved closer, using his height to crowd me. “I hope you can back up that claim,” he said. “There are many men and women depending on your power. Yet Ryko tells me you still cannot control it. That you destroyed a village and killed thirty-six people. Innocent people who could not fight back.”
“At least I did not do it deliberately,” I said, holding my ground. “At least I knew it was wrong.”
“I could not control it! You saw me. I did not know what I was doing.”
“I’m not talking about your killing rage,” I said doggedly. “I’m talking about those men left alive in the courtyard.”
I thought that he was going to strike me. Instead he stepped back, fists clenched by his sides. “I do not need another conscience, Lady Eona. Look to your own morality and stay out of mine.”
He strode across the yard to Ju-Long, the big dappled gray still tied to the stable rail. I watched as he ran his hand over the animal’s sweat-stained shoulder, his head bowed. Although anger still roared through me, something dank and sour joined it.
Disappointment.
“Lady Eona,” Ryko said.
I turned, stopping his approach. I could not face his anger, too.
He held out Kinra’s swords. “There is no place for another saddle-sheath on his Majesty’s horse,” he said belligerently. “Do you wish to carry your swords in a back-sheath?”
“No!” It was almost a shout. I took a deep breath, forcing moderation into my voice. “Carry them for me. Please.”
He gave a quick bow, his face shutting down. It was a servant’s face. “As you wish.”
The emperor led his horse out into the center of the stable yard and swung himself neatly into the saddle. He summoned the other guard.
“Tiron, assist Lady Eona on to Ju-Long. She does not have any saddle skills.”
My face burned. The last time he had seen me on a horse was the night of the palace coup — the same night he had found out I was not Lord Eon, but a girl. For a shamed moment, I remembered his scathing glance up and down my body, and his fury.
The emperor motioned me closer. “You will ride behind me. Use your knees to hold on, but try not to hinder Ju-Long’s movement.” A flick of his hand sent Tiron down on his knees beside the horse. The young guard blushed as I gathered up the full skirt. He politely looked away as I placed my foot into his waiting hands.
“Ready,” I said.
Suddenly, I was rising through the air. I twisted around, awkwardly flinging my healed leg over the animal’s flank and grabbing for the back of the saddle. My landing was heavy, the reflexive dig of my knees sending the animal sidewise across the cobbles in a clacking crab-walk. As the emperor pulled the horse around, I desperately tried to keep my seat as the huge, bony joints and muscles shifted under me.
“You have permission to touch me, Lady Eona,” the emperor said curtly as he brought the horse to a fidgeting standstill. “Otherwise you’ll end up on the ground.”
Tentatively I let go of the saddle and held the emperor’s waist. Through the cloth of his tunic, I could feel the warmth of his body and the tension in his muscles as he controlled the horse.