Kelley Armstrong - Sea of Shadows

Apparently all four were there, though only the crown prince had been introduced. There was a steady stream of others, too, ministers and such, and when the doors opened again to admit yet another group of men, Moria was beginning to wonder where they’d fit them all.

This last group looked much like the others. Middle-aged men, all warriors, all moving briskly, heads high. The one in front was the shortest of the group. A broad-shouldered man with a severe face, well formed for his age, empire-born and perhaps in his fifth decade, his dark hair entwined with gray. He had flashing, dark eyes that reminded her of a hawk’s, scanning the room as he moved fast. His sleeves were pushed up and she could see his tattoos. They looked like…

She glanced over at Tyrus and the dragons circling his forearms. Then she looked at the man walking in… with dragons inked on his arms. Her gaze dropped to his breeches and boots, both filthy with the sweat and dust of a hard ride.

It was only then that everyone else seemed to notice the newcomers. The room went silent. Then men rushed forward to take Emperor Tatsu’s cloak and offer him cold water and hot tea, but he waved them off impatiently. They lined a route to the emperor’s seat—a raised chair at the head of a long table. The man ignored them, instead striding into the room and looking around. His gaze fell on the girls.

He gave a short laugh. “You two are easily spotted, even in this crowd.”

As he walked over, Ashyn bowed as deeply as she could, and Moria tried to emulate her. She was not as adept at social graces, but she also had to struggle not to keep staring at the man.

This is the emperor. Our emperor.

In the days before, she’d prepared for this moment. She would be polite, despite her feelings about the man who had exiled Gavril’s father, and exiled Gavril, too, in a way, cruelly sending him to guard his father’s death place.

Except Gavril’s father hadn’t died. And whether Marshal Kitsune was innocent or guilty of the charges that had led to his exile, the blood of Moria’s entire village stained his hands.

She wasn’t even sure now whether Gavril had been sent to Edgewood or volunteered for the post, to aid his father’s plan.

“The Keeper and the Seeker of Edgewood,” Emperor Tatsu said. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

Ashyn dropped her gaze and Moria could see her eyes filling. She kept hers on the emperor.

“We will have justice for Edgewood,” he said. “And we will free the children.”

Ashyn lifted her head and held out the envelope. One of the ministers rushed forward, pulling her arm back, glowering at her.

“The emperor has just arrived,” one snapped. “You will not shove that at him—”

“She did not.” Emperor Tatsu returned the man’s glower tenfold as he took the envelope. “She handed it to me as quickly as possible, because she is well aware of the urgency of the situation. Unlike those who would have me take off my boots and sip tea first.” He shot his glare around the room. “What are all of you doing here? This is not an acrobatic performance.”

“We thought you might need us, your imperial—”

“I sent word telling who I needed in this room. The rest of you will hear what is in this missive when I am ready to share it. Now, begone. Quickly.”

The mass of ministers and counselors started for the door. When the crown prince tried to remain at his father’s side, the emperor snapped, “You, too. Begone.” He paused and then turned to the mass of exiting men. “Tyrus? Where’s Tyrus?”

The young man was almost out. He backed into the room.

“Come back, boy. You know Gavril Kitsune, don’t you?”

“We trained together, Father, though it has been almost two summers—”

“Good enough. You’ll stay.” Tyrus ducked his brother’s glares as he approached. The emperor continued snapping orders, expelling men from the room.

“I am sorry,” Tyrus whispered to Moria. “About Gavril. I could tell you two were close.”

“You misjudged, your highness. He was merely a traveling companion.”

“Yes,” Tyrus murmured. “That is for the best. Say that to all who ask. I am sorry for it, though.”

“But not surprised?”

He seemed confused by the question. “It is his father. He must do as he is told. Filial piety comes before everything, even obedience to the empire.”

“Even obedience to one’s conscience? Slaughtering innocents is acceptable if your father commands it?”

Ashyn tried to shush her, eyes wide with alarm, but Tyrus said, “No, which is why I am certain there is more to it. Gavril is prickly, but he has a true heart. He is always honorable.”

“There’s no mistake, your highness. He accepted full responsibility.”

“There is more. I am certain—”

“Tyrus?” the emperor said. “While I do hate to pull you away from a pretty girl…”

Tyrus turned to his father, gaze dropping as he murmured an apology. The emperor clapped him on the shoulder and waved everyone to the table. As they walked, Emperor Tatsu opened the envelope and pulled out the missive.

The men who had stayed were the chancellor, all three major counselors, and one of the warriors who’d arrived with the emperor. He was short, slightly squat, breathing heavily as he tried to keep up with Emperor Tatsu. An older man, the summers weighing heavily on him. From the way he dogged the emperor’s steps, she presumed he was an attendant, until Tyrus leaned in and whispered, “Marshal Mujina.”

He did not look like a man of war, and she wondered briefly if Tyrus was referring to someone else. But she could see the man’s tattoos were marks of the Mujina—the badgers. He did rather resemble one. An aged badger, toothless and slow. Not a man Moria could imagine leading an army. Perhaps that was the point—after Marshal Kitsune, the emperor wanted a man he could control. This marshal certainly looked controlled, hurrying after the emperor and then sliding past him to quietly take his seat at the man’s left hand.

The chancellor sat at the lesser, right-hand position, with the major counselors beside him. Tyrus tried to seat Moria beside the marshal, but she motioned for Ashyn to go there instead—she ought to speak for them. Tyrus gave Moria the next seat, and pulled out the one beside her as Daigo and Tova wedged in beside their girls.

No one had spoken a word on the walk to the table. No one spoke now either, the room silent as the emperor read. When he passed the missive to the marshal, his face was unreadable, his gaze distant.

“This is—” Marshal Mujina said. “He cannot expect—”

“Of course he doesn’t.” The emperor snatched the letter and handed it to the chancellor, motioning for the major counselors to read it after him.

When the last counselor handed it back, his face somber, the emperor folded it, then held it out across the table. He was clearly passing it to Ashyn, but she sat there, looking confused, until Tyrus nudged her. Even then, she took it carefully, gaze on the emperor, as if waiting for him to rescind it.

“You brought it this far,” he said. “You ought to read it. Seeker, is it? Ashyn?”

She nodded.

“You and your sister will read it, so there can be no question that what we claim is in that letter is true. Otherwise, I suspect there will be those who think we must be misrepresenting the situation.”

“It is the old marshal, then?” Moria said. “Marshal Kitsune?”

“It is. As you will see, he includes information known only to the two of us. We grew up together. It is he. He threatens to destroy Fairview if I do not step down immediately and cede the imperial throne to him.”

“Cede—? But that is—he cannot expect—” Moria inhaled sharply. “He does not expect it. He is asking for what he cannot have. He means to incite war.”