murmured conversation. They seemed to be conferring over something very serious, whatever it was, since they hadn’t even employed the use of servants for light and were instead carrying their own. I could feel Alcibiades breathing against the top of my head, even and slow, as though he was willing his stomach to keep from growling. I only hoped he wasn’t going to get any rice in my hair.
In unison, the men lifted their heads. One of them, with neatly manicured facial hair, lifted his hand and made a hurried gesture. There was the soft sound of clanking metal as the two men broke into a slow run. To my surprise, they were followed by at least five more, all of them similarly outfitted. Each was carrying a sword.
I didn’t hold my breath as the strange procession went past, but I could feel the beat of my heart positively hammering in my chest with curiosity. Had the servants who’d seen us alerted the Emperor to some foul play?
The only damper on the occasion was Alcibiades, who was still holding on to me like a farmer with an errant stoat. I bit his hand. It tasted like rice.
Alcibiades cursed, using a word I hadn’t heard before. That was unexpected. Then he dropped me, which I had expected, and gave me an awful look.
“You needn’t look so wounded,” I told him. “Anyway, I’m certain they’re just the guards. Perhaps we’ll be at the center of another incident! And all before morning, too.”
Alcibiades didn’t seem nearly as thrilled at the prospect, but then, I was rather resigned to the fact that nothing at all seemed to thrill Alcibiades.
“I thought that no one was supposed to carry a weapon,” he said. “Not us, and definitely not the Ke-Han.”
“Perhaps they’re guards,” I said. “Perhaps they were told there were mice in the pantry.”
Alcibiades wasn’t amused by my little joke. He had yet to grow accustomed to my particular brand of humor. I shrugged it off as he peered around the half-open door, searching the now-dark halls for any further signs of armed men.
It was curious, I had to admit; or, at least, I was unused to living in a place where the halls needed patrolling in the middle of the night. I could feel all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end—a truly pleasant sensation.
“Now, now,” I murmured, “it isn’t that surprising, really. No doubt they’re here to protect us, as well as the royal family.”
“I’d rather they let us protect ourselves,” Alcibiades snapped back at me from over his shoulder.
“Do you think they would be so foolish as to disarm every man in the palace completely?” I asked, tapping the corner of my mouth with my forefinger. My thoughts were always crowded, and the smallest physical reminder always helped me to organize them. “That would leave them open not to foreign attempts, but native ones. I hear that the royal family has a history of near-death experiences with assassinations. Why, there is the oddest custom—the first son, of course, is the heir, and must be raised in his father’s image with the strictest of manly pastimes, whatever those are. But should there be a second son, or more, they dress them up as little, wide-eyed daughters until they’re of an age where people will start to notice something’s not right, almost as a policy of insurance. Apparently, among the Ke-Han, there is a general rule floating about: that it’s completely unnecessary to assassinate daughters.”
“How fucking pleasant,” Alcibiades said, biting the words out.
“Actually, it’s quite clever. All things considered.”
After a long pause, during which I could practically hear the wheels in my general friend’s head turning, Alcibiades managed to speak again. “So you’re telling me,” he said, a little slowly, and a little disgusted, too, “that the prince we met tonight spent the first five years of his life thinking he was a girl?”
“Well, I don’t know the exact details,” I admitted, “but I’m sure it was something like that.”
“This place,” Alcibiades said, shaking his head and brushing rice from the corner of his mouth, “is three-ways fucked.”
Even though I could have told him that it was the same in every country and every culture—that shock was only a matter of what type of fucked you were and weren’t used to—I was inclined to agree with him.
CHAPTER THREE
MAMORU
Of the years of the dragon riders, those years of chaos before my father’s empire fell, I remember one thing more clearly than the