“When I first became pregnant with Prince Hallu, I felt nothing but relief. My place was secure, as long as I didn’t lose the pregnancy. He was nothing to me, an asset I could use. If I were a man, it would be as though I had been given a sword. Finally, I had the ability to fight. And then I saw him for the first time after I gave birth.” She looked up, and I wondered if she would actually say it, actually put to voice what I saw in her eyes.
But she was an imperial, and they spoke in implication, in suggestion.
“I may not be a woman, but I know how much you love your sons.” If she could speak in half thoughts, I could as well, and she nodded her head at my use of the plural word ‘sons,’ the understanding flowing between us.
Koque had killed an emperor in order to save Hallu and pretended both she and her child were dead to save Tallu from having to kill his brother.
But Tallu had claimed the prince as his heir rather than killing him when he found him. She had no reason to believe that Tallu would give him up easily.
“Speak to Emperor Tallu,” I said quietly. “Perhaps he might surprise you.”
Koque dipped her chin, the only acknowledgment of what Isaid. When she looked up, her gaze was clear, and she pulled her lips in a soft smile.
“I must admit, I am glad I did not have to face your sister. If she was only a fraction as beautiful and clever—” She broke off. A servant was rushing up the path, and she bowed low when she came to us, her fingers forming a triangle.
She spoke to the ground. “Excuse the interruption, Your Highness. Empress Koque, your son…”
That was enough, Koque stood abruptly, her eyes wide. She bowed to me, much more formally than I expected, and murmured excuses.
“Is everything well with Prince Hallu?” I asked, trying to keep my voice concerned rather than suspicious.
“Of course,” Koque said. She forced a smile. “All is well, but he is a young boy who has been without his mother for so long. You will give me leave to spoil him a bit.”
I could see her body tense as she waited for the appropriate dismissal. Standing, I said, “Then let us both go spoil him.”
Koque hesitated, her body leaning toward the path. The servant murmured, “Empress, he needs you.”
Nodding sharply, Koque said, “Of course, Your Highness. Let us go see the prince.”
Five
Empress Koque didn’t run. Instead, she walked with grace and calm, her speed entirely due to the length of her stride. If I hadn’t seen the way one of her hands kept clenching and then opening, as though she was reminding herself to at least approximate calm, I might not have even been able to tell how anxious she truly was.
When we reached the doors of her chambers, she waved the servant aside. They eyed me suspiciously but opened the door for her.
Inside, another two servants stood outside closed bedroom doors, the wood vibrating as something pounded against it. Koque stopped, and I glanced at her. Her eyes were screwed shut.
“His Highness, Prince Hallu, has not been well.” The imperial tendency toward understatement made me wonder how bad it truly had gotten.
“Emperor Tallu offered to help,” I said quietly.
“I have known Tallu most of his life,” Koque said. She opened her eyes and glanced at the servants, who were doing their very best impressions of Krustavian statues. She was not about to bring upthe fact that Tallu had alluded to the fact that he and his half-brother could see things that weren’t there. “The emperor and his brother are quite different. Emperor Tallu might not knowhowto help his brother.”
So, it was that bad. Koque had once said that she hadn’t been afraid of Tallu, meaning that she had probably guessed he could hear things that weren’t there, or at least things that no one else could. So it wasn’t anxiety but fear on her face when she looked at the wooden door. Whatever was happening to Hallu went beyond hearing voices of dead blood monks.
“When you are here, does it help?” I asked.
“I am not sure,” Koque whispered. She swallowed, and continued, stronger, “But what else am I supposed to do?”
I turned to the servants. “Open the door.”
They glanced at Koque, and she nodded once. One of the servants reached for the handle, while the other held his arms out, as though readying for an attack.
As soon as the door opened, Prince Hallu tumbled out. He was small, his prolonged illness having stunted his growth, and his face was as white as marble except for the shockingly red, long, straight scabs on his cheeks; those marks showed he had scratched himself over and over again.
He wore mittens on his hands that had been tied and knotted tightly with rope, likely to prevent him from scratching even further.
His forehead was bruised and turning purple. That had been what he had been pounding against the door.
