The stone trail crunched with the dirt beneath my shoes as a guard lead us through the endless garden. Birds flapped away from our path, their black eyes filled with revulsion at the sight of my filthy attire. My muggy apron had given up trying to look ironed; all my clothes had decided crumply and two shades darker than intended was acceptable for the royal court.

I brushed my fingers across my skirt one last time. "Well?" I prodded, my hushed voice wavering.

"Could you will your intrusiveness to sleep?" Erhan muttered, and his tone retained its mellow appeal.

Sighing a nervous breath, I glanced at the guard leading the way. Her steps were mechanical and her silky white uniform lay frigid. "I don't know what to do. I— What am I supposed to say?"

He laughed over the redstarts' light chirping. "I am afraid you have lost your chance to jump out of the coach, my dear Miyu." I glared at him as he reached his hand out to brush a passing bush's feathers. "Say nothing. You appear much more delightful that way, anyway."

I wrapped my hands around my torso, struggling to inspire comfort in my shaking body. Silence was always my first choice of response; a cloth washer needn't say much. Yet a spark of stubbornness flickered inside me, kindled by the knowledge that I was free of my status's shackles. I walked the verdant path to the emperor's summer palace now — I was worth being heard.

Besides, how was I supposed to steal a noble's soul with my mouth zipped shut? The thought sent my head into a spin, green and red and yellow blending into a nauseating mess that no longer resembled the garden we were crossing.

At last, the palace's entrance came into view, the gateway to Ashaba finest scholars and strategists. Like the books stashed under my mattress pertinently pointed to, there was no grand entrance that some poor guards had to haul open every time a guest arrived. The front of the palace was covered in tall archways, the inside of which was molded into a honeycomb pattern. Myriads of symmetric shapes were painted on the sturdy stone walls, gold and sapphire and white glinting in the rich sunlight.

The moment my slipper touched the first step, a jolt of fear ran through my limbs. I thought I had come to terms with my fate in the ship, where infinite time for accepting my impending doom was provided to me. Yet as the aristocrats' curious eyes pulled me up another step, dread begun solidifying in my mind. My head whirled, my eyes fluttered.

A grip seized my elbow. Erhan appeared beside me, his eyes burning into mine with looming bitterness. His calculated tranquility hadn't shattered yet, but its demise seemed to poke at it persistently. "Get a grip," he muttered.

"I'm trying," I mumbled, my breath softly shuddering. My chest boomed with the stomping of my heart and adrenaline poured through my body, begging me to move, to take another step.

Erhan looped his elbow around my own, his lips tight. "Do not forget what your failure entails."

Dryness shrouded my mouth. My limbs felt paralyzed as Erhan hauled us both up the stairs, and my heart was all but consoled. A weak voice in my head prompted me to shake off his grip, to stand on my own two legs. But fear had numbed the logical part of my brain, too. I felt like a pitiful ragdoll, taken to be burned with the rest of the garbage.

After a torturous minute, we were leveled with the extravagantly attired nobles. I felt asphyxiated by a very lavish and shiny pillow as I scanned the crowd. Most women wore a combination of tulle and heavy silk, with flowers or vines or any other expensive-looking pattern twirling across areas best concealed. The men were dressed with an abundance of silk also, yet velvet took the place of the tulle in their attires. Gold was everywhere; in their cuffs, stitched across their coats, laced through their hair. Their blinding shine paired with the generous palette of colors utilized made the clothes I used to wash look like rags.

I gazed at the domed ceiling. It was full of paintings that were so small and intricate, like they were personal to the artist and for no one else to see. There, geometry made way for blooming camellias, crystal birds, plum blossoms trembling in the summer breeze. The thin brush strokes danced around the flat roof, surrounding a single yellow gem buried behind a glass panel.

A middle-aged man by the archway on the far right cleared his throat. "His Excellency, Erhan of Anthos, and Lady Yumi."

I suppressed a grimace as any pair of eyes that weren't already goggling at us turned to glare at the newcomers. The nobles' gazes scorched my flesh, yet no smoke rolled around us to at least conceal my laughable outfit. I didn't look like a lady. I didn't feel like one, either.

A small giggle sounded in the crowd, quickly hushed by a chorus of hisses. A few nobles whispered to each other, but most simply stood straight and regarded us with marvel, fear, maybe even hatred. Their hands were crossed over their chests, their faces scowling.

Inevitably, my narrow glance slid ahead. A dark-haired man lounged on a gold throne that challenged the brilliance of the sun, his dark, squinted eyes laced with slight wrinkles. Glimmering white satin was fitted tightly around his shoulders and waist, finishing on loose black fabric on his lower body and covered by a gold-adorned raven overcoat that made him seem grander than he was. Badges, jewels, ornaments; his attire was filled with proof of his high status.

On the throne placed next to his sat a young woman. Her beige skirt was covered by a thin layer of chiffon, twinkling with delicate embroidery of birds and flowers. A gold ornament held her hair in a tight bun — that alone could buy my entire city.

The empress came from the north. Blonde locks fell on her shoulders in loose curls, hiding the corners of her soft eyes. Her expression was somber, almost timid, her hands folded on her lap and her gaze unfocused. She looked young. Scarily young.

"What a pleasant surprise!" the emperor said, his voice booming across the throne room. A muffled cough rumbled in his chest. "Khania has not sent a diplomat in years."

A diplomat, I consolidated, and almost cracked a smile through my sorrow.

A wide grin stretched Erhan's lips, contrived but oddly believable, as he dipped into a long bow. "It is an honor to be here, Your Majesty."

"Of course it is," he laughed.

"The king of Khania sends his best wishes to you," Erhan said. His tone contained a warmth he hadn't bothered to emit when he threatened to wring the life out of me. "And to the new oil extraction workshops. The stone mills are intriguing."

The emperor inclined his head. Another hack blew out of his throat. His skin was pale, lurid under the morning shine.

"This is my understudy," Erhan declared and grabbed my shoulder a little more roughly than I was comfortable with.

The emperor's facade lost its brilliance for one quick, horrifying second. He had avoided my gaze before; a pest, he probably concluded I was, or Erhan's charity project. His inquisitive gaze forced me into a quick bow. "Your Majesty," I blurted out.

The curiosity in his pursed lips send waves of terror across my bedraggled body. "Lady Yumi? Of?"

"Sehira."

A quiet hum of laughter rose above the crowd as the emperor's eyes narrowed with a smile. My skin begun searing. What little of Kasa they hadn't already conquered, they wanted to mock? "Oh, Kasa! How is that sickly king of yours doing?"

A scowl twisted my features before I could think better of it. "Better than you," I replied, and fervor lined every word that left my tongue.

Yet a second later, I wish it would have cut my tongue off instead.

Erhan's wild eyes snapped to glare at me as the nobles hissed disbelieving murmurs, an orchestral accompaniment to my pulse's feverish dance. A wave of heat scorched my body and, for a moment that seemed to never end, I wished I could crawl into a hole and rot. The emperor was frozen in his seat, with only the slight rise of his brows indicating he hadn't been petrified.

This was Ashaba; three words were more than enough to permanently stigmatize my presence in the royal court. How would anyone trust me with their soul after I made myself look like a fool not ten steps inside the palace?

Erhan cleared his throat with an awkward chuckle. "Your Majesty, do not mind—"

The emperor burst out laughing.

I frowned, watching as the man leaned forth, eyes slanted and teeth on display as he barked a cackle. The nobles surrounding us glanced at each other, releasing a confused giggle that rang across the vast room. I looked around in utter bewilderment. Was public execution that hilarious to them? For an eternal second, every member of the emperor's court was chuckling at an unintentional insult against their favorite tyrant.

All except one man, who remained dead serious.

He stood close to the throne, placing him high in Ashaba's hierarchy. A curious position, considering his young appearance; no wrinkles had tainted his soft brown eyes yet. Strands of hair in the color of fresh sunlight fell over his forehead, and his lips were slightly open in a disordered frown.

After a few seconds of staring at him, I realized it wasn't me he was so hatefully staring at; it was Erhan.

The emperor wheezed back into my focus as he slapped his knee in quite unjustified amusement. "Brilliant, brilliant!" he beamed. "We share the same self-deprecating sense of humor, dear. How refreshing!"

The slight bitterness laced between his words betrayed the shortage of humor in his laugh. I shot him an hesitant smile, bowing one more time for good measure. It would only take one more reckless witticism to blow off the mercy he had shown this time.

"You," he called to a stiff servant holding a platter by the throne's side. "Prepare a bath for the girl, will you?" The poor woman scrambled through a narrow door, the resounding bang of which seemed to stir the nobles surrounding us. Their close attention retreated as they turned to face elsewhere. Soon, we were two more faces in a crowd of glimmer.

I turned to Erhan with tight lips. He only briefly returned the grimace before facing ahead again. "May I have a word, Your Majesty?"

I had considered myself relatively civil up until that moment, yet as he started to walk away, my hand shot out to tap his shoulder furiously. "What are you doing?" I whispered, panic rising in my throat. Living my whole life in a barely inhabitable boardinghouse hadn't conditioned me to function in social settings, and surely not ones that required a wholly foreign etiquette.

Erhan spared me a single glance. "I believe you have lost your voting rights for our course of action." His brow rose at my wide frown. "Is it dread for that bath I see in your eyes?"

"No! I don't— I can't be alone in this place," I fretted. "Can't you discuss those cursed stone mills another time?"

The enchanter threw a glance behind his shoulder. Light washed his features, revealing colors I had never had enough time to observe; the discreet splash of yellow in his irises, the dark red of the mole beneath his eye. The veins running along his orbs didn't escape me, either.

"I am afraid you will have to try and resist my presence for a few hours, Miyu," he said pleasantly. People were listening; I was aware, and so was he.

Within a shaky breath of mine, he was gone.

A crippling sense of unease crawled over my body. It felt as if my skin had peeled off, leaving all of my thoughts and insecurities in plain sight. How could I have agreed to do this? Simply the thought that were I to carefully consider the offer, I would have saved myself of all this trouble, rekindled a flame in my chest that days of dull travelling had drenched.

My father used to tell me that bad things happened to bad people. My entire life had been a struggle, and with Erhan transforming it into a tragedy, what did my misfortune say about me?

Yet I had agreed to the deal for a reason. A sudden self-awareness washed over me. Just a few days ago I scrubbed dirty rags in a derelict factory, wishing for a miracle. That miracle had been bestowed upon me, but maybe I hadn't been specific enough in my prayers. Maybe it was better that I hadn't let thoughts filter my judgment.

Because in that very room, buried somewhere in the crowd, was the person that could mean my doom or my salvation.

Do you not want another chance?

For a moment, I stood still. My limbs weren't frozen; they were pumping with blood, unsolicited adrenaline scorching my veins. And soon, its kick reached my body. I gathered my skirts and rushed straight to the door the servant had disappeared behind, like a little kid fleeing from the might of a short wave.

I knew everyone was watching. Erhan too, probably, rubbing his temples and attributing my bizarre behavior to exhaustion, jetlag, the weather even. My quivering hands fumbled with the knob, slipping off its shiny surface and leaving marks of sweat all over it. No matter how forcefully I pushed against it, the door wouldn't budge. Even such a simple task seemed unattainable; everything else in my life did too for longer than I could remember.

"Lady Yumi."

My pulse trembled, twirling me around and sending blood all over my cheeks. I let my palm slip over the handle.

Next to the door to my freedom stood the man who had remained stoic even now, the man whose lavish black shirt was adorned with the jade imperial brooch I had only ever seen an emperor wear.

❧

If you enjoyed the chapter remember to vote, and let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you so much for reading <3