CAIUS

For once, Alcibiades and I were in complete agreement. It was high time we crossed the mountains and returned to Volstov—for I was going to come down with a bad case of the vapors, like my poor great-aunt Eurydice, if any more excitement was caused by us or to us in at least the next month.

We’d lived through the death of two Ke-Han Emperors in our short time in the lapis city, and it was time to remove ourselves from the premises before we fostered any further bad luck. I liked the new Emperor; he had a sweet little face, almost like a rabbit’s, and I wanted him to do well. Therefore, for everyone’s sake, I intended to return home, and have a nice cup of tea before I sought out my next adventure.

“You mean you actually want to go home?” Alcibiades asked me, without his usual vim and vigor. He was so tired, poor dear, after his little display, and I’d made sure to keep him resting despite his own wishes. The moment he’d come around after fainting—one couldn’t blame him for that, either, after destroying nearly an entire palace before taking on the Ke-Han Emperor—and learned which way the wind was blowing, it had been his intention to hop the next carriage back to the Volstov countryside. I’d spent all my energy and persuasiveness convincing him to give it a little more time, and once he’d realized just how little leeway his body intended to afford him, he finally agreed.

It didn’t mean he’d been very pleasant about it. But that was merely his way.

“I thought you loved it in this place,” Alcibiades went on, grimacing.

I patted him on the shoulder. “A change of scenery is necessary now and then. And I wouldn’t trade our time here for the world! It has been exceptional. But someone must see you home safe and sound, and I don’t think anyone else is quite as fond of you as I am.”

“Hmph,” Alcibiades grunted, looking away, and I couldn’t tell whether or not he was pleased—or, rather, I couldn’t tell just how pleased he was.

Let him be shy. He had saved all our lives.

I busied myself instead with all the details: the carriage, the cushions, the blankets in case the evenings grew chill; I made provisions for my peacocks, the ones my admirers had given me, to send them to my country estate for the time being. Perhaps I would donate them to the Volstov zoo—which meant of course I would also have to see my way toward snagging a white tiger. And, if I was lucky, too, one of those darling red pandas I adored so much.

“Cultural exchange, hm, Greylace?” Josette said as she watched me instructing the men carrying the cages about.

“I’m merely stealing a few animals,” I pointed out, “and not a warlord.”

“I was assigned to him,” Josette replied tersely. “The Esar’s orders.”

I had to pause for a moment to shout at some fool who was being careless with the white peacock’s glorious tail. When I returned, I couldn’t help but add, “It’s very lucky of you, then, that he wishes to return to Volstov.”

“Cultural exchange,” Josette muttered. “That’s all.”

All that was left was to have an audience with the Emperor.

“Not on your life,” Alcibiades told me. “I’ve had about enough Ke-Han Emperors for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

“It’s only polite,” I pleaded, trying, however futilely, to fix his tie. Would he never learn how to do it up? “We simply cannot leave without exchanging a few pleasantries. For diplomacy’s sake, Alcibiades—”

“Then stop talking about it and get it over with!” Alcibiades snarled.

He was excited too, poor darling, only he didn’t know how to admit it. Just think of all the stories we could tell when we returned, triumphantly, to court! No one there would have seen the new Emperor face-to-face. And Alcibiades would have to carry a stick with him at all times to fend off the gossips.

When we entered the council room, the Emperor was sitting a long way away from us, across the narrow room, on a raised dais. Beside him stood his loyal friend, a man whom I admired not the least for the way he held himself. His warrior braids were drawn back off his face; when next to him, the Emperor looked less like a rabbit and more like a bear cub protected by his fearsome mother. If only I could have commissioned a portrait artist to capture that moment—but there was no time.

“It is my honor to meet with you,” the Emperor said.

“Oh, no,” I told him, bowing low. “The honor is all ours. Isn’t that so, Alcibiades?”

“Yeah,” Alcibiades managed, clearing his throat. “Right. Thank you.”

It was hardly the beautiful speech I’d imagined—next time, I’d have to prepare one for him beforehand so he wouldn’t spoil the moment—but the prince seemed happy enough with the informality, and who could blame him? Even I, who reveled in the lush formality of it all, was ready to depart for a breath of fresh air. If I were the young Emperor, I thought privately, I would have preferred to stay in the mountains.

At least until my shoes got dirty.

I’d mentioned to Alcibiades that I had one last bit of business to accomplish, quite small but terribly important, and because of curiosity or boredom or both, he’d agreed to accompany me.

Of course, I’d always known I’d get him to see reason in the end. One just had to have the proper constitution for cultivating a friendship, and I very fortunately numbered myself among those lucky few.

“It’s just this way, my dear,” I told him, taking his arm as we turned down a mirrored corner. There were a great many things I would not miss about our sojourn in the Ke-Han palace, but I couldn’t help but think I’d picked up one or two terribly clever ideas while there. I would have to see about getting mirrors installed in my own estate. If nothing else, they would keep me remarkably well coiffed at all times.

“I hope you’re leaving us enough time to pack,” Alcibiades said. “Not that I need as much time as some. Knowing you, you’ve probably got more clothes leaving than you did coming here.”

I waved my hand to dismiss the idea, then reached out to open the door that led down into the stables.

“It just seems that way because the fabrics are so voluminous,” I pointed out. “I’ll be the first to wear such fashions in Thremedon. I predict they’ll become a trend soon enough.”

“Yeah,” said Alcibiades, scuffing some hay aside with his boot. “Sure. I can’t believe you’re going back to all… to all that.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked.

Alcibiades blinked down at me. “You’re going back to Thremedon, I take it,” he said. “City of pleasures and vices alike. Well, not me. I’m not even stopping there. I’m going straight to the farm, and I guess that’s where we’ll be saying good-bye.”

I guided him through the bank of stalls that housed the mounts for the Ke-Han nobility. There was one at the end that held a horse much larger than normal, more like a farmer’s draft horse than one meant for a diplomat.

“Oh, my dear,” I said, releasing his arm as we drew up to the stall, “you have it all wrong. Do you think I would ever give up the opportunity to meet the famous Yana Berger?”

Alcibiades went still at my side. I glanced up at him, quite delighted with myself, only to find his expression changed. He looked quite serious all of a sudden.

I opened my mouth to apologize—or perhaps to express my shock at finally having provoked some emotion out of the general at last.

“It’s Petunia,” he said before I could speak, and the next thing I knew he was hefting himself up over the stable wall to put himself into the stall with his horse.

I sighed and plucked a stray piece of straw from my sleeve. I was going to have to have a whole new wardrobe made up for the countryside.