announced a truce with the shansen. The Five Winters’ War was over, at least for now.
But our joy at the news quickly turned to sorrow, for another notice arrived. One with a blood-red seal.
Sendo had died fighting in the mountains, only two days before the truce.
The news shattered Baba anew. He knelt before his altar for an entire night, cradling the shoes Mama had made for Finlei and Sendo when they were young. I didn’t pray with him. I was too angry. If only the gods could have watched over Sendo for two more days!
Two more days.
“At least the war didn’t take all my sons,” Baba said heavily, patting my shoulder. “We must stay strong for Keton.”
Yes, there was still Keton. My youngest brother returned home a month after the truce. He arrived in a wagon, legs stretched out as the wheels creaked over the dirt road. His hair had been cropped, and he’d lost so much weight I barely recognized him. But what startled me most were the ghosts in his eyes, the same eyes that had once sparkled with jokes and mischief.
“Keton!” I shouted.
I ran to him with open arms, tears of happiness streaming down my cheeks. Until I realized why he lay there, propped up against sacks of rice and flour.
Grief swelled in my throat. My brother couldn’t walk.
I climbed onto the wagon and threw my arms around him. He embraced me, but the emptiness in his eyes was clear to see.
The war had taken much from us. Too much. I’d thought I’d hardened my heart enough after Finlei’s death, then after Sendo’s—to be strong for Baba’s sake. But a part of me cracked that day Keton returned.
I fled to my room and curled up against the wall. I sewed until my fingers bled, until the pain swallowed the sobs wracking me. But by the next morning, I had patched myself together. I needed to take care of Baba. And now Keton, too.
Five winters, and I had grown up without knowing it. I was as tall as Keton now, my hair straight and black like my mother’s. Other families with girls my age hired matchmakers to find them husbands. Mine would have too, had Mama been alive and Baba still a successful tailor. But those days were long past.
When spring came, the emperor announced that he was to take the shansen’s daughter, Lady Sarnai, as his wife. A’landi’s bloodiest war would end with a wedding between Emperor Khanujin and his enemy’s daughter. Baba and I didn’t have the heart to celebrate.
Still, it was good news. Peace depended on harmony between the emperor and the shansen. I hoped a royal wedding would heal their rift—and bring more visitors traveling along the Great Spice Road.
That day, I placed the largest order of silk we could afford. It was a risky purchase, but I hoped—we needed business to get better before winter came.
My dream of becoming a tailor for the emperor had faded to a distant memory. Our only source of income now was my skill with the needle. I accepted that I was going to stay in Port Kamalan forever, resigned to my corner in Baba’s shop.
I was wrong.
CHAPTER TWO
A patchwork of thick, gray clouds drifted across the sky, the seams so tight I could barely see the light behind them. It was a gloomy day, odd for the beginning of summer, but no rain fell, so I continued my morning routine.
I carried a ladder under my arm, climbing it to check on each of the mulberry trees growing in our small yard. Spindly white silkworms fed on the leaves, but there were no cocoons to collect today. My little silkworms didn’t produce much during the summer, so I wasn’t too concerned that my basket remained empty.
During the war, silk had been too expensive to buy, and our shop didn’t produce enough to sell, so most of our business had been in linen and hemp. Working with the rough fabrics had kept my fingers nimble and my art alive. But now that the war was over, we’d have to work more in silk again. I hoped my order would arrive soon.
“Baba,” I called, “I’m going out to the market. Do you want anything?”
No answer. He was probably still asleep. He’d been staying up late, praying at the family altar, since Keton’s return.
Our small market was busier than ever, and the peddlers wouldn’t haggle down their prices. I took my time, hoping that would help me avoid a