Another tickle brushed my arm, and I clapped my elbow to muffle the sound. My secret was growing restless, making the fabric of my robes ripple.
“For escorting me to meet my betrothed,” I finished quickly.
I hastened toward the audience chamber, but Hasho caught my sleeve, raised it high, and gave it a good shake.
Out darted a paper bird as small as a dragonfly, and just as fast. From afar, she looked like a little sparrow, with an inky red dot on her head, and she flitted from my arm to my brother’s head, wildly beating her slender wings as she hovered in front of his face.
Hasho’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening with shock.
“Kiki!” I whispered urgently, opening my sleeve. “Come back inside!”
Kiki didn’t obey. She perched on Hasho’s nose and stroked it with a wing to show affection. My shoulders relaxed; animals always liked Hasho, and I was certain she would charm him the way she’d charmed me.
Then my brother swooped his hands over his face to catchher.
“Don’t hurt her!” I cried.
Up Kiki flew, narrowly avoiding his clutches. She bounced against the wooden shutters on the windows, seeking one that was open as she darted farther and farther down the hall.
I started after her, but Hasho grabbed me, holding fast until my slippers skidded against the whispery wood.
“Let it go,” he said into my ear. “We’ll talk about this later.”
The guards flung open the doors, and one of Father’s ministers announced me: “Princess Shiori’anma, the youngest child, the only daughter of Emperor Hanriyu and the late empress—”
Inside, my father and his consort, my stepmother, sat at the head of the cavernous chamber. The air hummed with impatience, courtiers folding and refolding their damp handkerchiefs to wipe their perspiring temples. I saw the backs of Lord Bushian and his son—my betrothed—kneeling before the emperor. Only my stepmother noticed me, frozen at the threshold. She tilted her head, her pale eyes locking ontomine.
A chill shivered down my spine. I had a sudden fear that if I went through with the ceremony, I’d become like her: cold and sad and lonely. Worse, if I didn’t find Kiki, someone else might, and my secret would get back to Father…
My secret: that I’d conjured a paper bird to life with magic.
Forbidden magic.
I spun away from the doors and pushed past Hasho, who was too startled to stop me.
“Princess Shiori!” the guards yelled. “Princess!”
I shed my ceremonial jacket as I ran after Kiki. The embroidery alone weighed as much as a sentinel’s armor, and freeing my shoulders and arms of its heft was like growing wings. I left the pool of silk in the middle of the hall and jumped out a window into the garden.
The sun’s glare was strong, and I squinted to keep my eyes on Kiki. She wove through the orchard of cherry trees, then past the citrus ones, where her frenzied flight caused the kitebirds to explode from the branches.
I’d intended to leave Kiki in my room, tucked away in a jewelry box, but she had flapped her wings and knocked against her prison so vigorously I was afraid a servant might find her while I was at the ceremony.
Best to keep her with me,I thought.
“Promise to be good?” I’d said.
Kiki bobbed her head, which I’d taken as a yes.
Wrong.
Demons take me, I had to be the biggest idiot in Kiata! But I wouldn’t blame myself for having a heart, even for a paper bird.
Kiki wasmypaper bird. With my brothers growing older and always occupied with princely duties, I had been lonely. But Kiki listened to me and kept my secrets, and she made me laugh. Every day, she became more alive. She was my friend.
I had to get her back.
My paper bird landed in the middle of the Sacred Lake, floating on its still waters with unflappable calm—as if she hadn’t just upended my entire morning.
