feeling that the two men, though caught in the midst of a deadly maelstrom, would reach their destination—an opposite shore, which the artist had chosen, quite wisely, not to include at all.
“The Ke-Han have an interesting way of choosing their heroes,” Lord Temur said finally, breaking the silence. “I doubt they have reached the sea yet, in any case.”
Then, in an action that seemed to surprise us all—even Lord Temur himself—he swept the print in question up in one hand and crumpled it with a sudden show of animosity that rose, from nowhere, like a crushing tide.
“The cost,” I began, but he held up his hand for silence. I felt like one of the men under his command in the war, though I had no reason to; it made all the soft hair at the back of my neck stand on end.
“We must return to the palace,” Lord Temur said.
Even Alcibiades plainly felt there was to be no arguing with him. We left the prints and all of the artists’ alley behind us without purchasing anything, and without paying for the print Lord Temur had destroyed.
CHAPTER SIX
KOUJE
One matter weighed heavily on my mind, more than all the rest: There was no way to reach any kind of haven without crossing the border between prefectures, and there was no way to cross the border between prefectures as two travelers without being caught.
The first night after we heard the rumor, I could not sleep, and it was not because of the owls hooting or the mosquitoes humming by my ears, or because I had, shamefully, grown used to a soft bed during so much time spent at the palace. My thoughts haunted me the way fireflies haunted the bushes; the moment I thought I’d managed to quiet them, another worry lit bright and fierce in the corner of my vision, and I was wide awake once more, my throat tight and my heart pounding.
I did not know whether or not my lord slept. It seemed he always did, sometime toward morning, but managing some sleep and being well rested were miles apart from each other.
But if the arrangements did bother him, he hadn’t yet complained.
That morning I watched him for some time as he slept, the distant light very pale as it rose not quite high enough yet to crest the trees. Mamoru wished for me to wake him when I began the hunt, but he was sleeping more peacefully now than before. It seemed a shame to disturb what little respite he had. Yet, if we were to be equals, I should honor his request as a friend the same way I had once honored his commands as a prince.
“Mamoru,” I said, touching his shoulder.
He was awake at once, with such a look of terror on his face that I could barely hide my remorse.
“Oh,” he said at length, leaves tangled in his braid. “Are we hunting rabbits?”
We did, and he was quiet at least, if not skilled enough to catch them himself. I taught him how to skin them, and though his mouth grew tight and his eyes widened, he was not sick at the sight. He was being very brave, but to tell him so was to patronize him. So I said nothing; and in that fashion, things between us were just as they had been at the palace.
“My lord?” I began, confusion making me forget myself. “Mamoru,” I added hurriedly, forcing myself not to bow in apology.
“It isn’t the same as the other merchants wear theirs,” Mamoru explained, motioning for me to turn my back to him. I did as he wished, though I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “It’s merely something I noticed yesterday in town. People of—People of our standing don’t wear their hair down. The women plait their hair, but the men twist theirs back, I assume so that it won’t get in their eyes, or perhaps to keep the backs of their necks cool while working. It’s very clever, for otherwise it gets in the way.”
“I have no knowledge of how to fix my hair in that fashion,” I admitted.
My lord smiled evenly and with his eyes. “I think I might be able to approximate it,” he said, brow furrowing. “It’s a small detail, but it might help us in some way. It is clever. It’s just a matter of what is most convenient.” He came closer, the leaves and