private, it was dreadfully inappropriate before others, especially after Lord Temur had gone out of his way to take us on such a fascinating tour.
Thankfully, Lord Temur pretended not to hear him, and we carried on by foot, one retainer waiting with the carriage, the other following behind us.
The houses were built almost too close together, as though they were all vying for the most room possible, and all of them were somehow losing. Awnings overhung us, and brightly colored banners with words I could not read—it was one thing to memorize a few Ke-Han phrases and quite another to learn their complicated, pictographic alphabet—hung outside of doorways. Most important, however, was that the people were staring at us. Of course they were; we were so obviously foreigners, and Lord Temur so obviously an important member of the upper class, that they must have wondered what purpose drew the three of us there.
“The streets are too crowded to continue by carriage,” Lord Temur said. “And we must pass by one or two of the theatres. My sincere apologies.”
“But I love the theatre,” I said. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Do you think we might be able to attend a play?”
“I shall see what I am able to do,” Lord Temur said, the stilted formality of his words still betraying nothing of his emotions. “We will have performances at the palace in our esteemed guests’ honor, of course, but I sense that you in particular, Lord Caius, are searching for a more… authentic experience.”
“Exactly that,” I confirmed. “How wonderful! Is that one of the theatres?”
It was a tall, imposing building with a sloped roof, and the first one I’d seen in a while that wasn’t fighting off the crush of other buildings around it, as though all the houses on either side were making way for it. I thought it looked like a member of royalty among the commoners.
Outside the building, a few young men stood in idle, relaxed poses, looking for all the world like the images from a storybook. Hands on their hips, ebony-black hair slicked into complicated chignons, their robes far more colorful and garish than anything I’d seen at the palace, they loitered outside the entranceway with their faces painted white and their lips daubed bright red, their eyebrows thick and high. After a moment of closer inspection, I realized they were painted on for dramatic effect.
They must have been actors.
“In a manner of speaking, that is a theatre,” Lord Temur said. “But it is a common one; much too common for our esteemed guests.”
One of the actors cast a glance in our direction, indolent and slow. If he was surprised to see a nobleman guiding two foreigners down the street, it didn’t register on his face. He wore his makeup like a mask, and merely shifted his weight from one side to another. I realized then that he was deciding which one of us to rest his gaze on, and it was only then that I understood what, exactly, they were looking for.
“Oh, I see,” I said, taking Alcibiades by the arm. “Come along.”
“What?” Alcibiades asked. He still carried his stick with one lonely dumpling on it and seemed more concerned that my sudden attentions might make him drop it. “I thought you wanted to see the theatre.”
“Yes, well,” I said. He really was an infuriating man, making me explain it to him. I could tell from the way Lord Temur held his head, looking straight down the road, that he wasn’t the sort of man who required such explanations. “Another time, perhaps.”
“It’d be something to write in a letter,” Alcibiades said, like he was granting me a favor in being this interested and wasn’t instead being hideously obtuse. “Maybe I could get an autograph.”
“Hurry along, General Alcibiades,” I said, for one of the men had taken notice of him, and was smiling in an overly familiar way. He looked like a young lion stalking its prey.
“Look,” Alcibiades said, his attention drawn by irritation, as I had known it would be. “I told you not to call me General, either. What’s with this sudden relapse?”
“I’ll tell you once we have reached less… outgoing climes,” I said, and hauled determinedly on his arm until we’d passed not only the theatre, but the building that stood next to it, and the narrow, winding road that separated that from an archway hung with colorful banners.
“This is the artists’ district,” Lord Temur said. He paused, in order to give us