knew so well as my duty, but the argument that I wished to give my lord was one I trembled to think on.
I have done nothing, my lord had said, and I had told him that I knew it.
The cold timbre of Iseul’s voice as he had given the order had told me that he knew it, too.
“My lord,” I began carefully.
“I need to speak to my brother,” Mamoru said. There was a cold glint in his eyes that for a moment reminded me of the Emperor’s iron will.
Before I could stop him, Mamoru had started back into the passageway. He moved at a swift run, and I cursed myself for not having the foresight to prevent that from happening although I do not know if I would have been able to bind my lord’s hands and feet even if I had been gifted with such foresight.
I ran after him, as silently as I could, and sent a prayer to whatever gods that might still be watching over the prince that no one would hear us.
I caught up to him as the passage made a crooked turn to the left, just before it emerged into the palace. He turned as if to shake me off, then stopped at the soft murmur of voices from up ahead. I didn’t put my hand back over his mouth, nor did I wrest him away from the wall and carry him bodily back to the stables, which was what I longed to do. Instead, I held tightly to his arm just above the elbow and listened.
“Maidar has already roused his men,” said a man with a strong, harsh voice like wood being chopped. “Do you really believe there’s any point bringing yours as well?”
“I believe in not taking chances,” said another man. His voice was familiar to me, since I’d heard him issuing orders to his servants from the high table all night. It was Lord Temur, of the western prefecture.
“Come,” said the first man, “do you truly think it will be all that difficult? There was a time when you couldn’t say it, may the Emperor’s spirit rest peacefully, but the prince is weak. It’s like sending wolves in after a lamb.”
My lord let out a startled breath, and I tightened my hold on his arm. I wished that I could have protected him in some better way. If only I could tighten a hold around his chest to keep it from bursting at the knowledge.
“He was clever enough to conspire against his brother,” Lord Temur pointed out. He’d sat next to my lord at dinner, and I’d done nothing. The knowledge was nearly unbearable. I had my sword with me—earlier, I’d thought to carry Mamoru away with me, and would never have left without some means to protect him. I could have done something, and I wanted to, but for my lord’s sake, I held back.
The other man laughed—a quiet, shriveling sound. “You don’t believe him capable of something like that, do you? No. I think the Emperor has his reasons, and we merely abide by them.”
I felt a tugging at my sleeve in the dark. Mamoru had wrapped his fingers tight around the fabric, and was holding on with all his strength, as if he feared he might faint otherwise. I grasped his shoulder with the hand I’d left free. Sometimes even the strongest of lords needed help to stay on their feet.
“Yet,” there was hesitation in Lord Temur’s voice, even if it was slight, “of all the men who believed this change in power might affect them poorly, I never believed it would be the younger prince on whom the Emperor would turn his sights first.”
There was a silence from within the palace, and I wished dearly to be able to see what was happening. Then the other man spoke.
“Who can fathom the will of emperors?”
My lord turned to me, his face hidden in the close shadows of the passage. When he’d been younger, I had always known what my lord was thinking simply by the expression on his face. As he grew older, and the necessity to hide his thoughts became unavoidable, I had developed other ways of knowing: from the tilt of his head or the way he held his shoulders. I had always known what my lord was thinking, even before he told me.
Standing with him in the dark, still robed for sleep and with his hair loose, the braids scattered, I felt only an overwhelming sense