“You may go, captain.” The emperor waved his dismissal. Yuso bowed and backed away.
The emperor waited until he was out of earshot, then said, “My uncle may have the greater military force, Lady Eona, but he does not have the Imperial Pearl, nor your power behind him.”
“My power, Your Majesty?” I dug my fingernail into the gold peony etched on the flask. “Are you asking me to use my dragon for war?”
“War?” He shook his head. “There will be no war. That is why we have the days of Rightful Claim; to prevent such a disaster. I have the ancient symbol of sovereignty”—he touched the pearl at his throat—“and I have the support of the Mirror Dragoneye, the symbol of renewed power. My uncle will see that his claim cannot stand against mine.”
I knew I was untutored in the ways of statecraft, but I was sure I had not mistaken Sethon’s ambition. Nor his ruthlessness.
“Your uncle is not dealing in symbols, Your Majesty. He is dealing in force. He has already decreed himself emperor, pearl or no pearl.”
His hand went to his throat again. “You don’t understand. Without this pearl, my uncle cannot hold the throne. It is what keeps the dragons with us — the seal of our celestial bargain.”
“Then he will kill you and take it.” For a moment, all I felt was the pearl’s soft fire under my fingers, and the burn of Kinra’s purpose. I clenched my hands, fighting off the memory.
“If he takes it, he will not have to kill me,” the emperor said dryly. “It is now part of my Hua, joined to me through blood. I die if it is removed.”
“Part of you? I don’t understand.”
“It is said the pearl is a living link to the dragons. Once it is sewn into an emperor’s throat, the two are joined forever through the blood. It is why it must be transferred from a dead emperor’s body to the living heir in less than twelve breaths. Otherwise the pearl will die and the seal of our bargain will be gone.”
I studied the gold setting that circled the pearl and counted twelve stitches in gold thread radiating from it. The three at the top were neatly placed but the rest were a mess, the flesh around them still bruised and scabbed. “Twelve breaths does not sound very long for such delicate work,” I said.
He gave a rough laugh. “Less than a minute and a half for twelve stitches in the throat. As you can see, my physician was both nervous and pressed for time.”
“It must have hurt.”
For a moment, he hesitated intent on some inner debate. Finally he looked me square in the eye. “It was the most painful thing I have ever endured,” he said, and I knew it was no small thing for him to make such an admission. Or for me to receive it. “The setting around the pearl has twelve barbs that first pierce the skin and hold the pearl against the throat,” he added. “Each barb also has an eyelet so it can be stitched into the flesh too.” His finger circled the edge of the damage. “And there is something else; a burning that enters into the blood and feels like acid flowing through the body for hours afterward.”
I found myself swallowing in sympathy. “Does your uncle know about the pearl dying?”
“Of course. Twelve-breaths-twelve-stitches is taught to all royal males in line for the throne.”
“Then he must take you alive so that he can transfer the pearl to his own throat safely.”
He shook his head. “You seem very sure my uncle will ignore Rightful Claim.”
I steeled myself for what I was about to say. “Your uncle has slaughtered your mother and brother, and poisoned your father. Why would he stop at you?”
Had I gone too far? I knew my words had struck their target — it was in the widening of his eyes — but I refused to flinch. The emperor may have felt blood rage at the news of his family’s death, but he had not seen Sethon’s sword impale his infant brother. Nor had he seen the bloody corpses of the palace household, nor his uncle spurring his troops into baying savagery. Someone had to tell him how things stood.
Still, it took all of my will not to drop into a kowtow.
Nearby, Vida dug through a saddlebag; Tiron conferred with Solly; and Dela wearily loosened her hair from its tight binding — none of them aware that their emperor thought he could just walk into the palace and take back his throne.
“You are very blunt, Lady Eona,” he finally said. He pressed his hands against his eyes. “I’m a fool. My father stubbornly trusted his brother, and now here I am, doing exactly the same thing.” His long sigh relinquished the hope of a bloodless claim. “Of course you are right. He will try and take the pearl. He certainly will not be the first to think he can steal its power.”
The emperor knew the history of the pearl; perhaps he knew about Kinra. Here was my chance to discover if the memories that came with her swords were true, if my blood was truly tainted. In the space of a quickened heartbeat, I fought a battle between risk and opportunity.
“Like Kinra,” I said, and the two words took all of my breath.
He lowered his hands, startled. “How did you hear of Kinra?”
I scrabbled for a plausible story. “I–I saw her name in one of Lord Brannon’s record scrolls.” His surprise faded. “It only said she tried to steal the pearl. Was she an assassin, Your Majesty?”
“No, just a Blossom Woman. She nearly bewitched the pearl from Emperor Dao. He had her executed as a traitor by the Twelve Days of Torture.” He leaned closer. “I’ve heard the executioners can keep someone alive for days even after they have cut out the main organs. Something to keep in mind for my uncle.”
I turned away, hoping my face did not betray me. The stories were not the same — somehow my ancestress had become prostitute rather than Dragoneye — but in my vision, I had been Kinra, caressing an emperor’s throat, stroking the pearl. Perhaps the stories were not so far apart. Was this how she was erased from history, reduced from Dragoneye Queen to treacherous whore?
The emperor touched my arm. “My apologies, Lady Eona, I did not mean to frighten you.”
I rallied a weak smile. “I think I am just tired, Your Majesty.”
A gesture brought Vida to his side. “Bring Lady Eona some food. And a rug.” He stood. “I will leave you to rest.”
In a few strides he was beside Tiron, advising the guard on Ju-Long’s rubdown. I prayed he would rethink his strategy and return to our goal of the east. Although he had inherited his father’s misguided loyalties and sense of tradition, it also seemed he had inherited his mother’s flexible mind and quick insight.
“I will take that to Lady Eona,” I heard Ryko say.
Before I could prepare myself, the big islander was standing before me. He held out a piece of hard-bread and a gnarled strip of dried meat.
“Thank you.” I took the bread, avoiding his eyes.
His free hand clenched into a fist. “How did you control me?”
“I don’t know.” I looked up at him. His mouth was tight with disbelief. “Ryko, I truly don’t know!”
“Why, then?”
“There had been enough death.”
“Can you do it whenever you want to?” His stern expression could not mask the fear in his voice.
Dela crossed over to us. “What is this about, Ryko?” She laid her hand on his arm. “You are towering over Lady Eona.” She emphasized my rank.
He shrugged off her hold. “Lady Eona has some kind of power over my will. She stopped me from fighting.”
“Power over your will?” Dela repeated, but her eyes questioned me.
“It’s true,” I said, lowering my voice, “but I don’t know how. It’s as if a link opens between us when things are desperate.”