over who could catch more carp with his hands, tossing them back into the water before Baba saw.
The memory made me smile. I knelt by the pond and dipped my fingers into the water. A whiskered catfish swam to nip at my nails, and the tickle in my fingertips made me laugh. What was Baba doing now? And Keton?
How I missed my home by the sea.
I sighed and stood, wiping my wet fingers on my tunic. Across the pond, I spotted the tall, thin man—the Lord Enchanter—watching me. Our eyes met, and to my relief, he turned away.
Up ahead, I saw the glittering gold path that only Emperor Khanujin could walk. It was littered with rosy plum blossoms, meaning he had recently passed this way.
I skirted it carefully, continuing toward the kitchens. But as I looked up—there, behind a magnolia tree, was the emperor!
I nearly dropped to my knees when I saw him, as I’d been taught as a child to do. But since he couldn’t see me, I crouched behind a leafy bush to steal a glimpse of my sovereign.
He was tall and regal, easily the handsomest man I’d ever seen. His hair, tucked under a gold headdress fringed with rubies and pearls, shone like the finest black lacquer, and his eyes radiated with the warmth of midsummer. Yet while he bore the grace and dignity of a king, the strong slope of his shoulders bespoke a fearsome warrior.
All the stories were true, and I felt a bittersweet foolishness now for asking my brothers to draw me a portrait of him all those years ago. No drawing could have done the emperor justice. Even the sun seemed to fall differently upon him, so that he glowed like a god from the heavens.
Pulse quickening, I ventured a step closer. Something strange and beautiful drew me to the emperor—my body resonated with a heat and pleasure that did not feel entirely natural. So entranced was I that I forgot to pay attention to what he was wearing, nor did I see the dark shadow looming behind me—
“It’s a capital crime to stare at the emperor.”
I froze, recognizing the voice. My cheeks burned as I pulled my gaze away from Emperor Khanujin and turned to face the Lord Enchanter.
He’d followed me from the pond, his sleeves neatly folded up to showcase his long, elegant fingers. Unlike the emperor with his soft grace, he was all angles and shadow, the edges of his robe clinging to his thin frame. At least the light wasn’t caught in his eyes this time, so I could see they burned blue, pale as the heart of a flame. Normally, blue was my favorite color—but not on him.
“Close the jaw, xitara,” he said, smirking. “You look as if you’re about to be slaughtered.”
Xitara? Instantly, I snapped up and stepped back onto the path. I wasn’t sure what etiquette the Lord Enchanter deserved, but I wasn’t about to bow after being called a little lamb.
“You’re the one with that girl on the shawl.” He twisted to face me, his lean face widening to fit a grin. “You’re very lucky you won.”
I didn’t like the way he was looking at me—as though he knew my secret.
Then act like you have no secret, I reminded myself.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” I said dismissively. “My shawl was extraordinary—Lady Sarnai said so herself.”
“So she did,” the Lord Enchanter agreed. His hands moved when he talked—a habit my mother had always told me was rude. “But it was too extraordinary…at least for the first challenge. Lady Sarnai doesn’t want a trial with an obvious winner. She wants to prolong the process. A tip for you, for next time.
“And now everyone knows to be wary of you. Why else do you think she pointed you and Yindi out as the tailors to defeat? Lady Sarnai is cleverer than you think. She’s creating enemies for you.”
The muscles in my jaw stiffened. “Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugged. “Life in the palace is boring now that the war is over. I need something to do, and you intrigued me enough for me to lend a hand.”
“I don’t need your help,” I said, anger simmering inside me now. “A war is fun and games to you, isn’t it? If not for you and the war, my brothers— I would be able to walk without this cane!”