from her kimono sleeve and held it out.
Vylia blinked at the colors that swirled beneath the surface of the water opal as long as her palm. Shades of cerulean, jade, sapphire, and emerald shone amid streaks of diamond-like radiance.
“The Malo stone?” Vylia whispered, stiffening as Uma slipped it into her hands. “Shouldn’t this be in the temple?”
“We believe you’re ready,” Uma said.
Vylia was suddenly terrified that she’d drop the stone and send scattered remnants of the national treasure clinking down the palace steps. “I . . . But we’re just about to leave. And I haven’t mastered the water dance yet. Last week, the high priestess said I looked as graceful as a drunken bear.”
Uma fought a grin and lost. She tucked her hands inside the sleeves of her kimono. “What better place to improve your wavesinging than aboard a boat amidst a tranquil sea?”
Vylia stared into the stone, lost inside its depths. Some called it the “mirror of the goddess,” and now she could see why. “The Sea of Bones is anything but tranquil.”
“The weather is perfect now, and thus our present departure. Now come and leave your excuses behind with your royal gown.” Uma inclined her head to the steps and offered a mischievous smile.
Vylia bit her lip to contain a squeal of excitement. Her first solo diplomatic mission and her chance to become a wavesinger, thereby inheriting the stone her mother and all empresses past had wielded? It seemed all of her life’s luck had concealed itself for her eighteen years, then finally released in a sudden burst.
She tore her gaze from the Malo stone and slipped it into a pouch on her belt. I’ll make you proud, Mother.
“Vy!” a masculine voice called behind her.
Vylia glanced over her shoulder as Uma dropped to the floor in a formal bow. The guards who held the doors opened them wider and stood straighter. Her father strode through, not bearing his crown, but the sash and pendant of a white lotus hung across his tunic.
“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” A rare smile graced the emperor’s lips, cutting his sharp features in an oddly gentle manner.
Vylia bowed her head, feeling at once worried and hopeful at his friendly approach. He looked like a rabid dog who wanted to snuggle. She wouldn’t be fooled again.
“I bid you farewell last night, Father.” Maybe he’d been too drunk to remember.
Please don’t let him take this from me now. I was seconds away from leaving!
“I’ve decided to make one change.” The emperor flicked his hand at Uma, who rose with her head still bowed. Then he gestured at a man who stood in his shadow. “This is Aoko, one of my personal guard. I trust him implicitly. He will replace one of your men.” His grin seemed genuine. “So I can sleep easier while you’re gone.”
Coiled tension released Vylia’s heart but lingered like a bruise. Each of her four bodyguards had served her for years, and she loved them like family. But replacing one was a small price for a diplomatic mission to Jadenvive, the capital city of the Tribal Alliance. She still couldn’t believe her father had approved.
She bowed her head once more. “Yes, Father. Thank you.”
“And one more thing.” The emperor stepped close enough for Vylia to smell his rosewood oil incense. He lowered his voice. “I’d like for you to spend a little time in Navarro as well. My spies report a potential uprising among the Navakovrae settlers.” His expression hardened into its familiar chiseled carving. “Wave for the locals. Remind them of our kindness.”
Vylia hid her surprise with a nod. What could drought-starved farmers hope to accomplish by defying the Malaano Empire?
He means to remind them of his power.
“The commander of the garrison in Navarro should have more detail. Speak with him and return to me with your thoughts.”
Vylia’s surprise doubled. He cared what she thought?
“I can’t emphasize how important this is, Vy.” The emperor put a hand on her shoulder and smiled as she looked up at him. “Can I trust you with this?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She’d been training in diplomacy her entire life. And rumor had it that the tribes didn’t want war any more than the Empire did. So the issue probably wasn’t much more than a border dispute or a difference in customs or language.
Otherwise, there was no way in Zoth her father would have allowed her to go. Especially with only four guards, a single wavesinger, one handmaiden, and a