Tamora Pierce - Battle Magic

“I am really starting to hate that ceremony,” Briar muttered softly in Imperial.

The emperor and his mages walked away around the far side of the dais. Other mages and nobles streamed off the dais after him.

“Are we supposed to follow?” Rosethorn asked Parahan.

“I have been placed in charge of escorting you to the Hall of Imperial Greetings,” the big man explained. “We’re waiting for the crowd to ease. Then we can go.”

“Why didn’t he greet us here?” Evvy wanted to know.

“I would imagine because he wanted you to admire one of his armies,” Parahan replied blandly. “He likes to show them off to visitors.”

For a long moment no one said anything at all. Evvy was wondering if she was the only one left breathless by Parahan’s words when Rosethorn said, “This is just one of his armies?”

“Oh, yes,” Parahan said quietly. “Specifically it is the one for Center Yanjing. I have also seen the armies for North Yanjing and South Yanjing. South is much larger. I am told North was much larger, before he decided to fight three of his neighbors at once.”

“Why does he show you all his armies?” Briar asked.

Parahan shook his head. “Oh, it’s nothing to do with me. He likes to show them off to everyone. He reminds his friends that he is a dread enemy, and he gets word to his enemies that it would be better if they surrendered.”

“And his guests?” Rosethorn asked. “Our home in Emelan is neither friend nor enemy. Why show them to us?”

Parahan replied, “So you will tell those you meet what you have seen.”

THE HALL OF IMPERIAL GREETINGS

THE WINTER PALACE

DOHAN IN YANJING

They were not presented immediately. Parahan escorted them to their guest pavilion, where a Yanjingyi meal waited for them. Before they could eat, however, the maids who waited on them removed what Briar had mockingly called their “army-viewing clothes.” These were replaced with loose robes so they could eat without fear of spoiling any silks or linens.

Rosethorn wasn’t sure what made her happier, the cooler garments or the food. She had been afraid she would have to face the official presentation with no more in her belly than coconut water. Now, as she settled on crossed legs before the low table, she realized that Parahan meant to stand back with the dining room servants. “Join us, please,” she said. “I won’t be able to touch a bite if you loom over us.”

The servants twittered, shocked that their guests would ask a captive to eat with them but once Rosethorn caught their eyes, they fell silent. Parahan didn’t need to be invited twice. Immediately he sat on his heels next to Briar and helped himself to pulse-bean soup, roast goose, cherries preserved in honey, and baked lamb. Rosethorn had only taken a few mouthfuls before she noticed that the servants were all too willing to give Evvy rolled fried cakes, sugared jujube berries, and numerous other sweets while they ignored Parahan.

If the emperor’s people were going to insist on serving his guests, as they had done since the newcomers’ arrival from Gyongxe, Rosethorn decided she might as well take advantage of it. She looked at the servants and raised a single eyebrow. They were so well trained that they froze instantly. Once she had their attention, she looked at Parahan — since he had not been supplied with eating sticks, he was using his fingers — then looked at the servants again. Immediately one of them brought a finger bowl so the big man could wash his hands. Another placed a fresh pair of eating sticks in a proper stone holder before him. A third maid waited for him to indicate his choices for a second helping. Parahan blinked up at her, then began to point. Satisfied, Rosethorn whisked three small dishes of sweets away from Evvy and showed her own server that Evvy could have twice-cooked fish, water-reed shoots, and sliced turnips in sauce. If she let the child eat according to her own taste, Evvy’s teeth would rot out, mage or no. Evvy glared at her new meal, her lower lip thrust out. Rosethorn ignored her. The girl would eat, or not.

Briar at least was minding his manners and pointing out his choices to the maids. They had almost started an incident on their arrival when Rosethorn had tried to insist that they would serve themselves. It had taken the august Mistress of the Guest Pavilions herself to explain that things were done in a certain way when one was a guest of the emperor, and to do them any other way was to get one’s servants’ heads cut off. After that Rosethorn had ground her teeth and borne it. As a dedicate, she was far more accustomed to being the servant, or at the very least, to doing her part of the chores. Being waited on itched in all of the places where her vows had become part of her.

With Parahan and Evvy properly attended to, she picked at her own roast goose. Her appetite had shrunk since their arrival at the Winter Palace. So many things here had a deadly result for the servants, not the guests. She couldn’t even go for a walk in the gardens. Seeing the gardens would have soothed her, but the servants were supposed to keep her from doing so until she, Briar, and Evvy had been officially presented to Emperor Weishu. How many ceremonies would they have to endure before she could see the emperor’s famed gardens? His lily ponds alone were renowned as far west as Emelan.

Parahan had gotten Evvy to talk about her magic. Not only was she chattering away but she was eating her vegetables. Briar caught Rosethorn’s eye and winked, making her smile. Bless him, too, she thought. She hadn’t thought how much she would come to depend on Briar’s support when they had set out on this very long journey. He had taken complete charge of Evvy in Gyongxe, when it was such a struggle for her to breathe. Rosethorn had tried to thank him for it once. He had only kissed her on the forehead and told her not to be silly. It made her feel both grateful and weak, and she hated to feel weak. Only the knowledge that he was her boy, and they had passed beyond what was owed to whom years ago, kept her from hating herself and him. She needed to find her strength again, but this place, with its crushing weight of imperial authority, was starting to seem an unlikely place for her to heal.

Briar reached over with his eating sticks and plucked a slice of roast goose from her plate. The maids gasped and giggled behind their hands. Rosethorn frowned at him. “It’s bad manners to leave this wonderfully cooked food on the plate, and you’re toying with it,” Briar retorted, his mouth full. He reached with his sticks again.

This time Rosethorn snatched her plate away and began to eat. “And don’t you give yourself airs,” she warned when she had finished.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Briar assured her. “I want to live to get home.”

The waiting-women came forward, bowing and looking anxious. Parahan rose to his feet in a single athletic movement. Rosethorn almost sighed aloud and stopped herself in time. She was no schoolgirl to moon over a handsome man, she told herself. She was just envious because the days when she did not have to first get to her knees, then straighten first one leg, then the other, in order to stand, were long over. Yes, that was it.

“These pretty ladies are telling us that they will get into trouble if they do not have you dressed and to the palanquins soon. As will I,” Parahan said. Of course he was totally unaware of Rosethorn’s interesting thoughts.

“Then let us get clothed,” Rosethorn said, rising to her feet as gracefully as she could. Once she was on them, she could not resist. She stopped, and smiled at Briar and Evvy. “Of course, I still only have to wear a shift and a single robe.”

Ignoring Evvy’s wails, she walked into the airy, luxurious room that was hers for their stay.