Before relief can kick in, he passes me a bowl of yakhni, then another flatbread and a stuffed pastry. I chew and regurgitate it all. I stammer through naming the poisons laced in the food, the same ones he had me study in my first days after arriving. It’s a simple circumstance. A small mercy. Hewantsto bestow me another chance.
Eventually, the throbbing ache in my head dulls. The emperor’s tests end. He reclines back on his cushion, considering me in a new light. His voice drops tartly. ‘Do you finally understand the consequences of failing?’
‘I would die.’
‘By whose hand?’ He raises a brow.
My second hesitation. ‘Y-your enemies.’
‘No.Yourenemies.’ He drums his fingers against the tray. ‘Tell me, who poisoned you?’
‘What?’
Now his brows furrow. ‘Last evening. Do you recall who poisoned you?’
My mind recedes into the jaws of that memory, while my body remains in his grip, panic in my heart. It returns in fragments. Amongst it, wisps of Zhasna beside me, warm. And that is it. The emperor ordered me to make myself anew. All the gruesomeness, gone in a second. I think I’m forgetting how it felt to be poisoned by my own kin.
I... I do not remember. And I am relieved.
‘I cannot remember. And that is better.’ I bow my head.
‘You truly do not recall? Perhaps it’s the effect of the poison. Though I’ve never seen this happen.’ He pinches and lifts my chin, exposing my thin pale throat, veined and bruised. His finger brushes the scabs tenderly. ‘My suspicion is Dunya and Zhasna. I have no proof. We all ate from the same platters of food, tasted by the poison testers.’
‘Does Dunya suspect...’ my voice lowers, ‘that I’m an Eajiz... and wield nur?’
‘Let us pray not. Or else, she wouldn’t hesitate to outright kill you, as many of our kin have done to others out of jealousy.’ His shoulders shake at the musings as if it is all one great jest. ‘If you are to survive my courts, you must gain Dunya’s affection. She is my first wife; my children with her are my best warriors. Our eldest daughter is a powerful governess in the south-east, groomed to be my heir. You will suffer as Dunya’s enemy. But as her ally, you will live blissfully.’ He brushes his hand against my cheek. ‘But you also have mightier enemies to contend with.’
‘Like who?’ I say thickly.
‘The clans who raided your uma’s tribe. They are loyal to Sajamistan, the Empire of the Heavenly Raven. Sajamistan has many armies. But their most powerful military is an Eajiz battalion, recruits trained by their oldest martial arts schools. An entire elite army of warriors like you, blessed by the Heavens. Leading them is the strongest Eajiz: the Sepahbad-vizier, a general of generals.’ His eyes recede as if gazing out at the future. ‘That is who you will train to be. Not equal to our enemy. Instead, more powerful.’
‘I vow it.’ I drop my head.
‘Go rest. Tomorrow begins your real training – constant training. I’ve not the time to teach you. But the monks will. Remember what I’ve said. You must earn this clan’s loyalty.’
He dismisses me. I loosen my clenched fingers and press my hands to my face. As the memories of the poisoned meal come howling back, I wonder: do children in this palace swallow poisons as I must?
3
I return shortly to the apothecary and a physician cleanses me of any residual poisons. Before long, a familiar monk enters and I recognise him as the Chief Dream-Interpreter. And the emperor’s eldest son.
At seventeen years old, he is a tall young man of blunt features and a hard jaw covered in a thin shadow of a beard, with shorn hair like raven-feathers as dark as his stark eyes. His white and mustard-yellow robes flow to bony ankles, the sleeves hemmed with delicate silver lotus embroidery. A pale girded waist-sash yanks tight around his long-limbed frame. A strange brightness exudes from his light brown skin, like Heavenly light. A sign of piety and fasting.
‘Peace, Younger Sister,’ he greets, a circled fist above his belly. I return it. ‘Forgiveness for my uma. She likes her cruelty as much as she favours her poisons.’
I pause halfway in my bow. ‘Y-you are Dunya’s son?’
‘Well, I was her eldest. But as a warrior monk, son to the faith and student to the 1000 Wings of Crane Monastic School, I’ve forgone all material relations of this temporal world. Now, I remain only the Chief Dream-Interpreter of the court.’ He bends at the waist slightly, with a grin. ‘And good riddance. Having Dunya as a mother is inviting cruelty.’
I glance around, wondering what ears in the palace will convey his insults. ‘She will hear you.’
‘Let her!’
I decide I like this half-brother of mine. ‘Well, she is cruel,’ I agree carefully.
‘The emperor instructed me to train you in poisons and in your...’ he lowers his voice, ‘affinityas an Eajiz. But be careful now, little bird. This palace is a vulture ready to swallow its prey. Fear not. I know Dunya and her tricks well.’
‘I thought I’d train with warriors. But you’re... a monk.’
