What would happen next? What could be worse than this?
Perhaps the Lunars would declare war.
He cringed, wanting to take back the thought the second he had it.
Konn Torin, his father’s adviser and the only other human allowed to see the emperor in such a state, clapped a hand on Kai’s shoulder. “It will be all right,” he said, without emotion, in that peculiar way he had of reading another person’s thoughts.
Kai’s father moaned and opened swollen eyes. The room was quarantined on the seventh floor of the palace’s research wing, but the emperor had been made as comfortable as possible. Numerous screens lined the walls so he might enjoy music and entertainment, so he might be read to. His favorite flowers had been brought in droves from the gardens—lilies and chrysanthemums filling the otherwise sterile room. The bed was dressed in the finest silks the Commonwealth had to offer.
But none of it made much of a difference. It was still a room made to keep the living separate from the dying.
A clear window separated Kai from his father. He was squinting up at Kai now, but his eyes were empty as glass.
“Your Majesty,” said Torin. “How are you feeling?”
The emperor’s eyes crinkled at their corners. He was not an old man, but the illness had aged him quickly. His complexion was yellow and pallid, and black and red splotches stippled his neck.
His fingers lifted from the blankets, the closest thing he could manage to a wave.
“Is there anything you need?” Torin asked. “A glass of water? Food?”
“An Escort5.3?” Kai suggested.
Torin cast the prince a disapproving glare, but the emperor wheezed a small chuckle.
Kai felt his eyes misting and had to look away, down at fingertips pressed into the windowsill.
“How much longer?” he said, quiet so his father wouldn’t hear.
Torin shook his head. “Days, if that.”
Kai could feel Torin’s gaze on him, understanding but also harsh.
“You should be grateful for the time you have with him. Most people don’t get to see their loved ones when they’re taken away.”
“And who wants to see their loved ones like this?” Kai looked up. His father was struggling to stay awake, his eyelids twitching. “Med, bring him water.”
The android rolled to the emperor’s side and lifted his backrest, guiding a glass of water to his lips and wiping away the dribble with a white cloth. He did not drink much but seemed refreshed when he had sunk again into the pillows.
“Kai…”
“I’m here,” Kai said, his breath fogging the glass.
“Be strong. Trust…” His words broke into a cough. The med-droid held a towel to his mouth, and Kai caught a glimpse of blood against the cotton. He shut his eyes, measuring his breath.
When he opened them again, the med-droid was filling the IV with clear liquid, something to ease the pain. Kai and Torin watched as the emperor sank into a motionless sleep. Like watching a stranger. Kai loved him but couldn’t quite connect the sick man before him with the vibrant father he’d had a week ago.
One week.
A shudder ran through him, and Torin squeezed his shoulder. Kai had forgotten his hand was there.
“Your Highness.”
Kai said nothing, staring at his father’s chest as it rose and fell.
The fingers on his shoulder tightened briefly, then fell away. “You are going to be emperor, Your Highness. We must begin to prepare you. We’ve already put it off too long.”
Too long. One week.