first to act, forming a ring around the Emperor’s dais with provisional blades at the ready. The warlords were next, catching the brightly colored actors and musicians as they ran, presumably for their lives, now that their ruse had failed. Lord Temur leapt from his position beside me, quicker than all the rest save for my brave general, and caught one suitor by his carefully lacquered hair, and another around the throat. Josette, without so much as lifting a brow, tripped a musician as he ran past and I, in a fit of desire to contribute, finished him off with a soup bowl to the head.
It was Alcibiades, though, who had the distinct honor of presenting the would-be assassin to the Emperor, one arm twisting behind him, the beautiful fabric of his costume torn at the sleeve.
Emperor Iseul’s nostrils flared.
“I am… in your debt, General Alcibiades,” he said at length, when the commotion had died down somewhat, and all the members of the troupe had been rounded up. “You have done the empire a great service.”
“I…?” Alcibiades said, looking all around nervously, as though he’d only just realized what it was he’d done. The would-be assassin, the beautiful moon princess, struggled for a moment against his hold, then went entirely limp. Alcibiades held on to him in the same way he held on to all beautiful things—as though he were somewhat afraid of their beauty. None of us could bear to look at them, nor could we bear to look away from them. “Uh, I mean. Your Highness.” All eyes were on him, and it was as though he’d only just understood it. It was also making him quite uncomfortable.
For someone who so obviously did not like to stand out in a crowd, I noticed that Alcibiades had a curious way of going about things.
“It is your honor,” the Emperor continued, his voice ringing clear and purposeful, “to mete out adequate punishment.”
“To… mete out…?” Alcibiades began.
The penalty–I tried to mouth to him, as Josette dragged the fallen musician to his feet and held his arms behind his back—for an assassination attempt upon a member of the Ke-Han royalty is death.
Gruesome death, I added, remembering with an illicit thrill down my spine the level to which the Ke-Han had refined torture. They were even better at it than I was. As gruesome as is humanly possible.
“The penalty is death,” Emperor Iseul said, inclining his head once in Alcibiades’ direction. “It is your choice to decide how this traitor is executed. If you wish it, it is your hand that may do the honor.”
“I…” Alcibiades began. He looked toward me, then, almost as though he were a drowning man casting about for a lifeline. I was surprisingly touched, until I realized he was probably looking to me because I was the only person he knew who had ever killed a man in cold blood, and he needed someone with experience to tell him what came next.
It was very curious that he was the soldier, and I was not.
“I,” Alcibiades said again, “I think… your Highness, that is, I believe…since the attack was on your life, it would be better if you…”
“Ah,” the Emperor said, stepping past his guards, and down off the dais. All eyes were now on him, including, I noted, the actors’. Theirs, however, held not a curious gaze, but one of steady, thwarted hatred.
Emperor Iseul, on the other hand, did not appear fazed at all. From what I understood of Ke-Han emperors and princes, such attempts were quite common; Emperor Iseul might well have grown used to them before he was ever past boyhood.
“I am yet further in your debt,” the Emperor said, bowing his head more deeply. He walked calmly in a circle, starting by Alcibiades’ side before coming to stand by the moon princess. The dagger—very nearly the assassination weapon—lay on the floor beside him.
I knew already what he would do next, but I held my breath nonetheless as he bent down to pick the blade up by the hilt, letting it dangle between them like a dead thing.
Then he slit the moon princess’s throat.
One of the suitors cried out from where Lord Temur held him pinned. I could almost have imagined it to be a continued scene from the play, if I’d wished it, but this was far too remarkable to be anything but reality. My eyes went immediately to Alcibiades. That was not because I found the idea of blood distressing, but because I thought