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'Which one of you is Isla?'

A tall man stood before her cabin, his skin dark and wizened. Isla tightened the robe around her chest. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the bloodrune dagger hidden close to her left breast. He knew her name. 'If you mean Lilja, that would be me.'

He bowed. 'Of course. The ... maharaj has instructed me to bring you to the treasury.'

Isla smirked. 'So he has boarded at last.'

'Will you follow me, if you ... please?'

Isla cast a warning glare at Tam Mai, still frozen upon the seats by the window.

"I won't move". Even in her head, the exasperation was clear.

Isla stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind her, and followed the man down the hall. 'And who might you be? His silver-servant?'

'My apologies. I have been dis ... discourteous in my haste. You may call me Sindhu. I am but a loyal servant.'

'So, his silver-servant.' He even told him my true name. Despite her smile, she was fuming with rage—that was not Kiet's secret to share. 'I see you aren't wearing a pendant. Smart choice. I always wondered why you would mark yourselves so obviously like that. I thought the whole point was to be secretive.'

Sindhu frowned, confused. 'I do not know what you think silver-servants do, but ... most of their work require no need for secrecy.'

Their footsteps clomped over the panelled floor. The ship was not as lavish as the bhatara, whose halls had been covered entirely in carpets, but it was impressive in its own right. Ceiling candelabrum lit the corridors, revealing the lotus mandala subtly engraved between every few paces in the wall. She only hoped Tam Mai would not notice them.

The corridor flowed into a wider hall, one side decked entirely in floor-length windows. Momuji West sprawled in the distance beyond; a city of lights under a darkening sky, separated by some three hundred yards of water.

'This way ... miss.'

Isla pried herself away from the view just as their ship started pulling away from harbour. Isla studied the man who walked with a slight hunch. She had thought him nervous before, but it was clear now he spoke with a mild stutter. Sindhu shirked under her scrutiny, and Isla wondered if indeed this man was a silver-servant. Putting an old, anxious man into dangerous work ... surely Kiet could not be so cruel.

'How long have you worked for the maharaj?'

'I have worked for him before he was even born, miss.'

'So you worked for his mother.'

'I ... I did.'

The ship creaked and swayed, Isla's stomach with it.

Of course not all of Rajini Amarin's servants were killed that night. Of course not all of them would have known of their mistress's self-imposed mission. But until she knew where Sindhu stood in the late rajini's confidence, she needed to keep both eyes on him.

'Down this way, miss.'

The hall ended in a large door. Largest by far from what she had seen aboard the ship; double-arched and sturdy, with giant knockers on both panes. Sindhu took one and pounded, waiting a moment before pushing it open.

'Thank you, Master Mandabu. You may wait outside.' Kiet stood, angled to face both the entrance and a palanquin that had been set across the chamber. Only one other man accompanied him; leather armour still secured over his tunic, wooden scabbard hanging high upon his waist. Kiet caught her gaze and turned to the man. 'Akai. Why not join him and ensure we remain uninterrupted.'

He opened his mouth as though to protest, but quickly thought better of it. The soldier bowed and left with another perfunctory bow in Isla's direction.

The door closed. Light faded. The chamber was cold: stone walls over stone tiles, lanterns hanging off the walls, candles melting upon closed trunks, a table buried under maps and leaflets, open chests and piles of books, rugs over a settee. Curtains were drawn over the windows, thick and tasselled. And the palanquin in the midst of it all.

'What is this?' It was more a demand than a question. Kiet stepped closer to the palanquin, slid its door open, and turned to face Isla fully.

'This is the answer to your problems. The one who can make the rajini confess to her crimes.'

'A dead truth-weaver.'

Isla pulled the phial from her pocket and brandished it before Kiet. 'Have you learnt nothing?'

'It was you? You poisoned the Emperor's truth-weaver?'

'Technically, it was his tabeeb. But at least this one was consensual.'

'Do you know the kind of trouble you've put me in?'

Isla could not help but laugh. When Taeichi said he would turn the Emperor's suspicion elsewhere, she had not realised he meant Kiet. 'Well clearly your title protects you from any form of justice since you still ended up engaged to the Emperor's daughter.'

'The betrothal is my justice.' Kiet leaned against the palanquin, but his voice belied the false indifference. 'So if the news bothers you, you have only yourself to blame.'

Her cheeks tingled with heat. 'Yes, how awful it would be to wed an emperor's daughter. Perhaps she'd only allow two official consorts instead of the limitless amount of sister-wives for which the Ametjas dynasty is known.'

'You trouble yourself far too much with my hypothetical wives.'

'I've had terrible experience with royal consorts, so what do you expect?' She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. Her anger subsided, replaced quickly by shame. Kiet's silence only expounded it. Isla dropped her gaze and made instead for the palanquin. 'I should administer the antidote before it's too late.'

'Oh, so this time you're concerned.'

'This ti—who do you think told Rajini Chei about your poison?' snapped Isla. 'She would have left you there to die!'

Kiet seemed taken aback by the revelation.

I should not have said anything.

'Chei.' His eyes darkened. 'Why would she listen to the pleas of a dhayang? Tell me not that you took her offer after all.'

Her offer? It had been so long, she almost forgot. That first time she came face to face with the rajini—her paternal grandmother—when she offered her a position under her House. Isla quickly spun a story. 'Of course I did. It was the only way I could keep my name out of her report. She found me there, with my sister, trapped among the fighting.'

'You struck a deal with the woman who imprisoned your sister?'

There it was again—the suspicion in his eyes. Would it change anything, if she told him the truth? That she, too, was an Ametjas? But what if he shared the same belief his mother had? Suspicion was still better than hatred, better than disgust. Better than a maharaj who might want me and my sister dead.

'Why did she keep a commonborn in her dungeons, anyway?'

Isla did not answer. Yes ... that night, she had gone to Kiet thinking her sister was locked in Rajini Chei's labyrinths. The tunnels were connected under all three consortial estates, and Kiet had promised to lead her through them and help her search. He had fallen to his own mother's poison before Isla discovered the truth.

'It wasn't her who kept my sister,' she said, steeling herself.

'You said you found her—'

'—in the labyrinths. I did not say whose.'

Kiet shrugged. 'It is a literal maze down there; you likely knew not up from down.'

'I had your map, Kiet.' Isla glared at the look on his face. It was clear he thought her a deluded fool, manipulated by the notoriously cunning queen consort. To think that once, he, too, had offered her a position beside him. 'It doesn't matter. Taeichi can confirm whether your misgivings are founded.'

'Taeichi?'

'That is the truth-weaver's name.'

'He's still a Tsun man, so it's best to accustom yourself to his Tsun etiquette—'

'Don't you lecture me about etiquette.'

'—besides which,' he pressed on, 'why should I believe the truth-weaver's veracity? He could easily lie on your behalf.'

Isla shook the phial in her hand and stepped into the palanquin. Taeichi had been lain across the seats, his paper fan clasped in his crossed hands, bloodrune earring dull in the low light. 'Did you know he's a second-rank theurgist?'

'For his talent to be considerable enough to serve the Emperor, I suspected as much. But that alleviates none of my concern.'

'Well, it is more considerable than the Emperor ever knew.' Isla uncorked the phial and dropped its contents into the truth-weavers lips. 'His theurgy doesn't only allow him to detect falsehoods, he's also able to extend his force to elicit nothing but truths from those in the vicinity.'

Kiet seemed dubious. 'Why would he keep such a thing from Gyoseong?'

'Because he did not wish to serve the Emperor any more than he was already forced to. Why else do you think he is here, faking his own death?'

'Yet he told you this? Entrusted his secret in your hands?'

It was not like he had much choice.

Even in the face of death, Taeichi had remained forbearing. It was his tabeeb who convinced him to even attempt an escape.

Isla had barely reached them in time. The door frame had protected her from any major injury in the collapse of Eshe's western wing, but it had still taken a while for the mind-healer to salvage her from the ruins, and a while still to regain her senses.

It was only fortunate that the Emperor had been preoccupied with other matters—his son, the trail of destruction left by the quakes, and Wise Father knows what else. He had neither time nor the presence of mind to inspect Taeichi's blood oath until it was too late.

'What exactly is his relation to you?' Kiet's question pulled her right back into the palanquin.

She pressed a finger against the truth-weaver's neck. Isla shrugged. 'Mutual benefit.' Common survival. 'Don't you see? He can force a confession out of Rajini Dhvani's lips.'

'What do you think would happen if Gyoseong were to hear of his sudden appearance in Surikhand?'

'The Emperor does not need to hear anything. No one needs to know she is speaking under the influence of theurgy, and Taeichi can remain hidden throughout the hearing. If anyone happens to see him, for all they are concerned, you've recruited a nameless Tsun soldier into your retinue. No one would look twice at him.'

'Not look twice? He'll stand out like a sore thumb!'

'Oh please, maharaj, as if anyone would look anywhere else when you are in the room.' For a moment that irritating smile was back on his face, and Isla was looking at the sailor aboard Tempestorm. 'Because of your station, not your physical appeal, so don't get any ideas. Just dress him down a little, get some colour into his skin, and he'll be unrecognisable. Especially so far across the Kapuluan Raja where there is no one to recognise him.'

'He'll need to get rid of that earring. Or at least hide it better.'

'His earring?'

Kiet paused, the smile quickly turning mischievous. 'You ... who do you think that man is?'

'Not a crown prince pretending to be a sailor, that's for sure.'

'Ah, come now. You know I actually was a sailor. I'll have you know I made a fantastic second mate.'

'I thought you were third mate.'

'So you were paying attention.'

Isla bit back her laughter, flinching when Kiet reached for her arm. When he spoke again, his voice was low.

'You never once sent word for me.'

'You were hardly ever at the palace. Was I supposed to leave a note with one of your servants? Be laughed out there like another one of your silly little admirers?'

Kiet did not buy her excuses. He gestured at the palanquin. 'You're clever enough to facilitate this entire charade, but not to leave me a message?'

'You're right,' she said after a pause. 'I am sorry, Kiet. I was occupied with my sister. I was trying to get her help and I wasn't thinking about anything or anyone else.'

Kiet sighed, but his face had eased a little. He nodded slowly, lowering himself onto the settee. 'I am not angry. I only wish I had known. That is all.'

Not angry at me? Was that all it took? An apology and half-truths? Isla felt sick to her stomach. I killed your mother! I killed your mother! She wanted to scream. He should be angry. He should be livid. But she could not bring herself to say it; to admit everything to him. He already looked so tired and disheartened, his body drooping from the weight of it all.

Isla tentatively crossed the room and stopped before him. 'I know I have not been a trustworthy person to you.'

'It is fine, Isla. I need only some time.'

'No. Listen to me. You deserve the truth.' Keeping it from him would only get in the way of everything they must accomplish. Isla pulled away, cleared her throat to still her trembling voice. 'I know you didn't like to hear it last time—'

'Please speak no more of—'

'I lied!' Isla blurted before she could think herself out of it. 'Before, when I said I work for Rajini Chei. That isn't true—it's only a cover.'

'For what?' His eyes narrowed to a dangerous slit.

Isla took a deep breath. 'For the fact that she's my grandmother.'

A long pause. Kiet sat, unblinking. 'What?'

'Rajini Chei—'

'I heard you.' Kiet rose, sending her a few paces back. 'That is impossible.'

'Ask her.' She watched as he stood, stunned. 'Why else do you think she is helping my sister and I? We are her grandchildren. Our mother's name was Chani Prijanskar, and our father ... he was Alain Ametjas.'

'Impossible.'

'I was there.' She bit back the tears. 'In the woods of Ang Kur. We were on our way to Elingar, but some bandits ...'

'They slaughtered his entire family ...' His voice was barely audible.

'No, just him and my mother. They sold Tamma into labour, but I was able to escape.'

'Lies. I've never heard of any chil—'

'I didn't know, either. I spent his entire life thinking he was just a fisherman—'

'Stop!' Kiet begged. Finally he met her eyes. The fog seemed to clear from his head. 'What you are telling me is impossible. Chei is baseborn, as was Alain's wife. No descendant of a royal- and baseborn marriage has ever carried theurgy.'

'I believed so, too, until that night in the labyrinths.' Her throat was dry and it hurt to force the words out. 'The world believes so, but only because people have consistently been killing us off. That's why she locked Tam Mai away. She found out who Tamma was, so when she discovered she had theurgy ...'

'Who, Chei? That makes absolutely no sense!'

'Your mother.' It came out a hoarse whisper. 'Tam Mai was in her dungeons, Kiet. I didn't know; not until it was too late and I was staring down an ifrit-fumed dungeon at your mother's personal guards.'

His eyes were glistening.

Isla swallowed. 'Maharaj Kiaan's son—Nor—your mother's men had been watching him. And when they realised he was showing signs of theurgy ...'

'Kiaan wedded a baseborn.'

Yes. 'That's why Dhvani ... she heard your mother's confession and lost it. Ah ... do you understand what I'm telling you?' Her voice cracked. She could not do it. She was so close, but she could not bring the words to her lips. I lured her there, Kiet. It was me.

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↝ END CHAPTER TWENTY ↜

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☆ this chapter is dedicated to _cookieconstellation ☆

Video: 中国乐器 - Traditional Chinese Music
Image: Original artists unknown

Eep. Do you think it was a good idea for Isla to tell him the truth? Should she tell him everything she's done, or do you think she's already told him too much?