overheard as the music lessened, but he still sounded genuine. “I believe she would like a gift that expresses your belief in her ability to win. A small token. Anything large, and she would feel it as additional pressure.”
“Good advice. A pin perhaps, that she can wear on her riding armor?”
“A perfect idea.” A pin would show everyone that Raia had the emperor-to-be’s confidence, without seeming like a courtship gift. Unless it was a courtship gift? She eyed the emperor-to-be and then dismissed the thought. She knew the court rumors about him and Lady Nori. Everyone expected him to propose once he was crowned. “Would Your Excellence like me to assist in choosing one?”
“Indeed, I would be grateful.” He raised his voice to a guard behind her. “Could you please escort Lady Evara to the royal jeweler? She will arrange a commission for my rider, on my behalf.”
Very pleased with this interesting opportunity, Lady Evara bowed again to the emperor-to-be and followed the palace guard, making sure to smile at as many aristocrats as she could as she flounced by. Playing spy is going to be fun.
And lucrative.
And even better, it was a lovely chance to prove her family wrong. She belonged among the jewels of the empire, and no one was going to take this life from her—even, or especially, the dead.
Chapter 22
Tamra oversaw the move from the royal stable to the official racetrack campground. She ignored Lady Evara’s complaints about the primitiveness of the quarters compared to the palace where she was certain the emperor-to-be would see they were treated with exquisite meals and luxurious beds. When her griping finally got to be too much, Tamra told her, “It’s better for Raia and me to be here. But you should stay in the palace, as our liaison to our sponsor.”
Lady Evara had loved that idea so much that she’d double-kissed Tamra’s cheeks, and then left Tamra blessedly alone to finish settling in; she had sent Raia to the stable to check over the kehok while she unloaded their supplies into the tent.
Stretching sheets over the cot, Tamra thought about Shalla. She hoped she was happy, that the augurs were being kind to her, that she didn’t miss home too much, that she wasn’t worrying about anything. Tamra had been sending her little messages via wight—just notes describing things she’d seen in the capital, telling her that training was going well, saying she loved her and was proud of her no matter what—but Shalla hadn’t written back. Tamra wondered if the augurs were preventing Shalla from responding. She didn’t even know if they were delivering her notes. It would be just like them not to, she thought. They’d say it was interfering with her studies. She considered whether or not she could ask Augur Yorbel to intervene, insist that Shalla be allowed to see her notes and write back to them. Maybe she’d ask the next time she saw him.
The tent flap ruffled behind her as Raia poked her head in. “Trainer Verlas?”
She finished smoothing the sheet. “Has he been fed? Fresh water?”
“Yes, but . . . are you sure he’ll be safe?”
“You worry more than a mother hen,” Tamra said. “The kehoks are locked up to keep us safe from them. The monsters aren’t in any danger. You’ll see him in the morning.”
“It’s just . . . I don’t like the latch on the stall. It didn’t seem secure enough.”
Everything here was top-notch, rigorously maintained and inspected before every racing season, but still she approved of Raia’s concern. “How about I double-check? Would that make you feel better?”
Raia brightened, reminding Tamra of Shalla after she chased a nightmare away. “Yes, please. Thank you, Trainer Verlas.”
Tamra noticed Raia was fiddling nervously with the pin Lady Evara had given her on behalf of the emperor-to-be. Affixed to her rider’s uniform, the pin was an exquisite bronze lion, and Tamra wasn’t certain if it was meant to be a mark of the prince’s favor or a warning against failure. She said nothing about it, though.
It’s natural she’s tense, Tamra thought. She was carrying the weight of an empire on her back. Tamra remembered how anxious she’d felt during her own racing seasons—and I was only carrying the weight of my own ambition. “Get some sleep if you can. I’ll be back soon.”
She pushed open the tent flap and stepped out into the night. Fires were lit in pits beside some tents, and trainers and racers were still scurrying around, preparing for