“Remind me which of the Territories has all those concessions from the Imperial Diet,” Princess Sayuri asked, and Tomiris politely refrained from sighing, difficult as it was. The walls of the Princess’ office were thin, and it would not do for rumors to spread that Sayuri’s personal tutor had little patience for her.

  “The Kingdom of Crecenza,” she expined, patiently. “They were the principal backers of the pre-Reformation dynasties, so they were given privileges by the House of Rosavor to bring the Wars of Succession to an end.”

  “I see,” said the Princess. She looked at the map, furrowing her brow so as to appear deep in thought. At least she had a fine memory for geography, and could locate almost any nation with ease. “I’ll be sure to remember that. Princess Ofelia is one of us, so we can probably count on Crecenzan support, no?”

  “To a degree,” Tomiris said. It was a naive way of seeing it, when politics were a field so thorny that having faith in a nation’s allegiance was perilous, but it would do no good to doubt the friendship of so wealthy a kingdom. “House Melinari has little love for Rosavor, but the worst of the blood between them is consigned to the past. But Ofelia has, like you, relinquished her ancestral cims. Not that a third child like her was likely to ascend to the Windsong Throne. If the Rose and Crecenza are ever at odds, well… Little princesses have died in wars against their own homends before. Just something to keep in mind.”

  “I… Will be sure to remember that,” she said. Tomiris did not intend to come across so harshly, but it was her duty to aid Sayuri Hiramatsu, and that involved telling her harsh truths. It did not matter that she had ostensibly given up her cims upon Efflorescence: like Ofelia, like Krisolde and Ryscrux, she would always be a princess. “Do you think that, given our… Our current circumstances, the Imperial institutions might try to cim some of the authority currently held by the Rose?”

  She was not entirely innocent, fortunately. Those who lived a sheltered life would often fail to see the world as a complex system, infused with the unsightly concerns of reality rather than ideals. Even when it came to the Ruby Blossom, that was true. Saving the world was well and good, and preserving it from the countless terrors hidden ‘neath its surface, but their tales did not end at salvation and triumph, but carried onward from that, tainted by oh-so-human inclinations and concerns great and petty. This Tomiris understood well: the Blossoms vanquished the Great Nightmare, the armies led by the Darklords, the same as in the past it had safeguarded Altengrie from the Sects of Virnun, as it had repeatedly fought off diabolic incursions from the Roiling Spiral, id low the Limpid Solitude, stitched shadow breaches shut and put an end to a dozen barbaric hordes. Their blooms-sisters had sacrificed themselves for the world’s salvation, but the world was always imperiled, one way or another. She recalled the words once spoken by admirable Katria, who taught her so patiently, so thoroughly, the finest mentor one could possibly have. So long as men live through adversity, they shall feel no gratitude, for their survival to them is only natural, the crisis not so grave after all. Yet if we let them die none will remain to curse or praise. We fight forever because triumph is ephemeral and defeat is eversting. You are a magical girl, so you must understand this.

  Tomiris did. She understood the lesson well enough that it outlived Katria, who before turning five-and-twenty was threshed like chaff along with a thousand sisters.

  “If our allies encroach upon our authority,” said Tomiris, “then we must simply allow them. That was always their desire, to be free of the bondage of our protection and the shackles of our care. We cannot help that. We too are children who turned back on their parents, and in times of plenty never shall we turn. In the end, the perception of freedom is more tempting, more seductive than the constraints of safety. The Territories and the Empire I think will fight over every scrap of power they think can be cimed from us.”

  “We’ve only taken these powers to protect the world, to protect them,” the Princess said. “Not to trammel our wards, nor to reign over them. To keep them safe by any means necessary, to guide them so they cannot go astray…”

  “And for that they’ll resent us, like a spoiled child denied a sip of hemlock. You know this. You may know it more than most, princess that you are. When you abandoned your cim to Tawarasato, when you came into the rosen fold, what did you find?”

  Sayuri paused. But it was words which she sought, not an answer, which she already knew. This Tomiris saw in her eyes, in their immediate glint, in the furrowing of her brow and clicking of her tongue. One’s words could dey but all thoughts turned to signs, telltale and truthful. She has her answer. She has asked herself this question before I posed it to her, even if she never realized it.

  “Liberation,” she said, at st. She pushed a book aside, a heavy tome which compared the codes of w established by the House of Rosavor to the ones the Territories conceived on their own. An onerous read, one whose purpose eluded the Sayuri—and Tomiris as well.

  “Children long to leave their homes and their parents,” said Tomiris, “and though that’s not quite what we are, there is little that men loathe more than those who know what’s best for them. Nothing is more ours than the follies all our own, so what all people dream of is the opportunity to err.”

  “That’s rather pessimistic.”

  “That it is,” said Tomiris, who then pointed to all the books scattered before the two of them. “Yet here you’ll find ample proof of the truth to that pessimism. Our histories bear the burden of honesty.”

  “Yet if that pessimism was so all-devouring, none would have lived to write those histories,” said the Princess. It brought a smile to Tomiris’s lips. Sayuri was not wrong. In the end, being a Blossom amounted to trudging onward even as the world conspired to confirm your every sourest notion.

  They could not study forever, however, so soon it was time to leave. In a better world, Sayuri Hiramatsu could have simply been one among many Blossoms, a soldier or commander of a lesser force, but this was not that world. Now the Rose had to make use of whatever resource was within its reach, and few were greater than the prestige and influence of royalty. To her credit, Sayuri was dedicating herself to her studies and her new duties, though she struggled with them. It was wise, then, that Henriette had tasked Tomiris with the Princess’ political instruction. I have the knowledge, if not the name. Once this would have made her resentful. Now she felt nothing at all.

  Sayuri tidied up her desk and belongings, rejecting assistance, her oddly meticulous nature demanding that she arrange her effects in a manner she saw no need to expin to others. Tomiris could never find any books among the shelves, but Sayuri located them instantly. In all else, however, the Princess’ mind was easily scattered. When at st she was finished, she stepped outside with Tomiris by her side, for the two to meet with the new heads of the Ruby Blossom’s Offices—and, for no reason discernible by Tomiris, Enor Hilssgar, who despite not holding any offices was deemed essential enough for her deep knowledge of magic that she was allowed to do almost anything she wished. She had even taken Ingunn Birdisdóttir for her assistant, not that anyone had ever seen her do any work outside of their study.

  The emptiness had grown strangely familiar, no longer the perpetual source of surprise that it had been in the absence of the countless Blossoms gracing the halls and corridors, rushing up interminable flights of stairs, always with some urgent matter to resolve. Tomiris missed it. She would always miss it. She would never see those days again in an entire lifetime. Somehow it was only now that the weight of it fell upon her. She paused briefly, staring at nothing—of which there was an abundance. All these passages looked the same as they did before, all adorned with rosen heraldries, all leading to the same rooms, but without life, that was all they were. Their purpose was gone; this was now a byrinth of grey with no meaningful distinction, leading only to further chambers which were only mockery, that emptiness only a memory of death. Tomiris would lock away every single door if she could. The Blossoms’ apartments, their boratories, their workshops and lecture halls and cleansing pools and dining rooms, all of it shut and out of sight rather than remain open and unused, to be eaten by time and dust.

  She had locked Katria’s door, at least, locked it just as she had left it when… When…

  A messy bed, notes left scattered and disorganized. The pillow still smelled of her. The bnkets, her pale blue sheets. Her shape remained, pressed upon the mattress. Such ghosts lingered when dawn came with a living nightmare. Elsewhere, too, they remained. With nothing to bury and mourn, the survivors refused to even touch their lost sisters’ belongings. An absence so complete felt far less real than death by time, by sword, by spell. If they return, spoke voices weeping with despair, it is best that their treasured belongings be where they had been left. In time, they would have no choice but to empty these tombs, and then they would be nothing more than bedrooms again, with only memory lingering, but always fading.

  The first day, she kept the key. The second, she slept in Katria’s bed. The third, she found her correspondence to Katria from her time as a pupil, then from when they were kept apart on their duties. The next day, she locked the door and tossed the key through her bedroom’s window.

  “We’re here,” said the Princess. Tomiris had not even noticed that she had been accompanying Sayuri. “Is something the matter? You seem… Distant.”

  “Pay me no mind,” she said, then, seeing the concern in her eyes, continued, “I’m fine. Pensive, that is all.”

  They stood not before the old chamber of the Rose Council, but a far more modest office. The Council’s chambers were built for splendor and awe, but now they cked the numbers to occupy all those seats, and multiple Offices were still vacant, several positions cking an overseer. By the door, Ingunn awaited, red sword in her left hand, bck in the right, and she stood mantled in steel armor elegantly adorned with fabrics blue and white, and a long skirt enchanted to flutter dramatically as if always kissed by winds.

  “Birdisdóttir,” Tomiris called to her, while Sayuri greeted her with a charming curtsy. “What are you doing outside?”

  “Enor asked me to wait outside and guard the door,” said Ingunn, and seemed to be completely serious.

  “Has it occurred to you that she may have been jesting, and simply wondered if you’d actually comply?” Clearly, it had not. Ingunn sheathed her swords, embarrassment reddening her face.

  “Has Enor been sending you on pointless tasks?” Sayuri asked. “You don’t have to waste your time just because she told you to. She just amuses herself by stretching the limits of authority out of curiosity, seeing what orders people will obey.”

  “I… Should perhaps ask her about that,” said Ingunn. “Recently she requested that I investigate the means to open the locked door to the Office of the Veil. But there are no concrete documents describing such a thing. So I don’t know where to start.”

  “You should start by taking care of yourself and accompanying us,” said Sayuri. “Do not simply obey blindly and without questions. We are sisters, after all, not master and servant. Never forget that.”

  That, at least, made her smile. So did Tomiris, but for an entirely different reason. For a girl born to royalty to be stating that they were all equal within the Rose was, at the very least, unusual. This was an enchanting thing about Sayuri, in truth, as much as it was frustrating. But there was no time to dwell on the matter, so Sayuri led her two bloom-sisters inside, where the other Blossoms had already gathered.

  “Forgive our tardiness,” said the Princess with a discreet bow. They were not at all te, but Sayuri apologized overmuch. It made Enor smirk, though in fairness that was her expression much of the time, as though wherever she went she was the only person privy to some hidden secret.

  “Princess Hiramatsu,” Henriette greeted her, though she did not speak Tomiris’s name. She was not the only attendant amidst this gathering, each of the heads of office accompanied by an adjutant, typically standing behind her, though Priscil Varvozi was fnked by her two girls, one carrying her parasol, another carrying a pile of documents. “Join us,” she showed the Princess her seat, though there was only one avaible spot, right to the left of Dorthea Johanssen.

  Tomiris stood behind her, inspecting the chamber and the faces in it. None surprised her, though even this smaller chamber was rather sparse, with fewer seats than the long mahogany table could accommodate. Perhaps it would be far too unseemly to hold a meeting with an excess of vacant seats. Most of the Offices had not yet been assigned, utterly cking the personnel to staff it beyond the bare minimum; young Lunéciel Satheresia was tasked with overseeing the Rose’s intelligence operations throughout all the Territories, lucky if she could count two other Blossoms in her Office. Why such a young girl had been given this position was beyond Tomiris’s understanding, but so many among them had perished that there was no choice but to grant positions of power to girls not yet even twenty. Like our sweet Princess.

  “I would be gd to know why Johanssen is here,” said Gatharin Santia, waving aside the gss of water her attendant offered her. “Gdder still to understand the reason behind this.”

  “She has knowledge of the inner workings of the Office of the Grand Master,” said Henriette. “And throughout her confinement to quarters she has shown that she offers no threat. Let us not be too quick to judge deeds of grief born.”

  “And it was Hilssgar that chose to free her,” Priscil compined. “Multiple Offices were offered to you, Enor, and you riposted each proposal with enthusiastic negations, yet you still take part of counsel. That much we do not even question. We respect your talents and knowledge too much for that. But Lady Dorthea… Enor, you acted beyond your authority in releasing her.”

  “Come now, when have we grown so heartless?” Enor said, eyes drifting towards Sayuri, the st to arrive. “It was folly, but sorrow makes fools of us all. Besides, hysteria can’t be helped. ‘Tis a woman’s affliction, no? It’s why we shouldn’t be left in charge of anything, right, Princess Hiramatsu?”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying,” she said, trying to remain dignified but evidently rattled.

  “You don’t like what my implication makes you think about, actually. Well, not all of us can come from enlightened homes. Tawarasato has concluded that it’s fine for girls to die for king and country but not to govern, which is at least curious.”

  “Get to the point, Hilssgar,” Tomiris raised her voice when Sayuri wouldn’t.

  “Tawarasato is lost,” said Enor. “The Princess’ sweet brother will give every concession to the warlords backing his cim, and they haven’t a great desire in showing due obeisance to Rosavor, and most importantly to our Blossom. With House Ubami as good as extinguished, the brave and valorous generals will at st reach for their heart’s desire, a kingdom free of foreign influences—although most people would call it free of the magical girls preventing Tawarasato from sinking into the sea. Very patient men, these samurai. Waiting for thousands of years without taking any meaningful action, until, suddenly,” she gestured whimsically, closing and opening her hand, though her words were anything but, “all Blossoms melted away, leaving the realm theirs for the taking. Just as the clever, valiant vulture waits for his quarry to colpse, sun-baked and withered…”

  “You don’t know that’ll happen,” said Marinor. “You make a great amount of assumptions. We have always been allies, despite the difficulties, the doubts, the displeasures—”

  “My sister sent word from Mirvholl,” Enor said. All around the table grew silent. “The coastal provinces and the Mire Kings had been our allies for close to three centuries and we enjoyed peace and prosperity in that queer, barbaric nd… They turned on the main Blossom outpost after sacking the three auxiliary fortresses to the north. Lay is commanding the defense at besieged Kormel, but it seems inevitable that all of Mirvholl will be lost after all our effort in civilizing it.”

  “You do sound just like your sister,” Priscil remarked. “I should have guessed you were speaking her words.”

  “She would be here if she could,” Enor was defensive. “But she will only depart when her work is finished and Mirvholl is pacified and stable.”

  “She’s like to die of old age there, then,” said Priscil. “Stable or pacified I can believe, but not both. Be that as it may, I believe I see your point. It would not be ideal to lose Tawarasato, as likely a prospect as it is. Inevitable, almost. We have always maintained a foothold there, since the early days of House Ubami. Legacy, too, is worth defending, for it is a power all its own.”

  “I’ve given up my cim,” said the Princess. “I am a Blossom, and nothing more.”

  “Don’t be naive,” Henriette said, softly but brooking no argument. “Were you merely a Blossom you would not be sitting here with us, I would not have asked Tomiris to reinforce your political education. A cim is no measure of anything concrete. The legitimacy it grants is valuable, yes, but it too is mist, wind, words. And we need the influence you hold in your homend.”

  “I have none,” she said. “Noblemen and peasants alike rejoiced when I left. I was never wanted there.”

  “That was then,” Henriette continued, “whilst we dwell in the now. People don’t support rulers because they like them, but because it suits them. Plums and homage and power over their neighbor. That’s all that men crave.”

  “I would not usurp my brother.”

  “We’ve all heard tales of the love he bears for you,” Lune spoke up. “Besides, it needn’t come to that. Enor said nothing of usurpation. Merely that, whether it be your liking or not, your name bears royal substance. Your brother is only yet regent, may your father the King be granted many more years. Thus, Prince Saionji’s ascension has not come to pass. Were you to step aside, in spite of your stronger cim, then he would cim the throne unimpeded, but had you a modicum of influence cultivated in Tawarasato, you could leverage it into guaranteeing our Rose can continue to act with free authority there.”

  “Concessions, then…” Sayuri sighed. She who had come here to flee a home she loathed could never escape her name. None could abscond the past, not even the Rose. “If it’s for the good of our Rose, then I shall consider it. But no open aggression. I’ll go no farther than diplomatic posturing.”

  “Nor would we wish to pit sister against brother,” said Lady Mycroft. “I would much rather we did not have to ask this of you, but our position is too delicate for us to spare our feelings for the sake of honor. Or dignity, for that matter.”

  “I believe there were other topics we wished to broach,” Lady Narges of the Office of Artifice finally spoke, and the change of subject immediately brought relief to Sayuri, who slouched somewhat upon her seat. Lady Narges always had such a serene expression, but her voice had a strange roughness to it. And she would never meet her peers’ eyes, to the point that for a time Tomiris wondered if she wasn’t blind. “In the coming years we will find much of our infrastructure built up over millennia has left our grasp. This is… Most concerning. I fear you have not given the matter the importance it warrants.”

  “It was not by choice, I assure you,” said Henriette. “There are things we cannot accomplish with our limited reach now. Messages have been sent, by Farspeech, by pegasus, by raven or by courier, but not all were acknowledged. Our strongholds are now abandoned, same as the ringpaths we’ve constructed to connect our mines in eastern Shimbasse to our vaults to the north. And the glimmerlines are as good as completely outside our authority now.”

  “They always were,” compined Priscil. “I always thought they were a waste of resources. With Farspeech at our disposal, why should we have to make use of methods so primitively physical? Conjuring up these invisible lines,” she mocked, “to connect distant nds and rey messages more expediently… It does not strike me as very intelligent to repce a form of magic with a form of magic that’s more complex, expensive, and took us decades to complete.”

  “Not all in the world are Blossoms,” said Sayuri. Tomiris couldn’t help but notice a smirk appear upon Dorthea’s lips. “To ordinary people, even to most mages, that is very useful. Where the project has been completed, news and messages spread quickly, and that has changed life. In Tawarasato, it has allowed—”

  “It allows people to plot, mostly against us,” Priscil continued. For the head of the Office of Nunciature and responsible for the Rose’s diplomatic overtures, Lady Varvozi appeared to have nothing but disdain for outsiders. “And making use of our resources, too. Our past administrations may have meant for these glimmerlines to be used by all, but always under our control.”

  “The messages I sent to our allies all emphasized the importance that our assets be preserved untouched,” said Narges. “I’ve received fewer answers than I would have liked, but—”

  “That’s to be expected,” Dorthea interrupted her. “When you demand that your precious treasures be undisturbed, you will only entice the rabble to cim them. All that we have preserved, all that we have maintained far from their hands, they will crave. That is simply the way they are. We safeguard them despite themselves. We fight our own wards as much as we fight darkness and foul magics. The tter are easy enough. It is sweet and simple to kill your enemies. But men and their realms and their petty lives… I’m reminded of one of the horses I owned as a child. A pretty mare, chestnut, agile. But the beast was easily startled and prone to harming its riders. When it wasn’t doing that, it would harm itself. One time she almost trotted off the side of a cliff towards sharp, jagged rocks. We did not give up on her, but in the end there was not very much she was good for. People remind me of her, and the way she was always trying to kill someone, or herself. Though I still prefer horses to people. Both for their demeanor and their smell.”

  Ah, right, Tomiris thought, suddenly understanding how Dorthea had reached the conclusion that it would be a fine idea to set Cartasinde abze. The silent discomfort that fell over the council was close to smothering.

  “Spoken like someone who had been ranting about her desire to expedite their deaths,” Enor ughed. “I pray we have no intention of giving you command of the Office of Arbitration, because you have a very unusual sense of justice. Were these meetings always so lively and interesting, Ettie? If I’d known, I’d have tried my hand at politics sooner.”

  “Be quiet,” said Henriette, cold, imperious. “There are other matters you must be aware of. First, Diantha Maglora and her pupils are probably already in Vaduria. If we can quickly and bloodlessly prevent an uprising there, all the better. I trust her, so I expect we shall soon receive good tidings. I cannot say the same of Valkeavise, however. Our allies there are concerningly silent. Most of our Blossoms there are unaccounted for, so we are blind to our standing. We’ve no confirmation of which Blossoms have perished and survived, as we’ve received word only once, and not from our principal outpost by Irkelgamh. A raven brought us a message from…” Her gaze was disquieted. It was not common for Henriette Valchenza, privy to the Rose’s plots and affairs, to ever appear not wholly in control. “Tantia Sullhon.”

  “You cannot be serious,” said Gatharin. “Why is she not dead? Why is she in Valkeavise? Why is she—”

  “Forgive me, but what concerns you so?” The Princess asked. Tomiris was little help; she knew Tantia only by reputation, dark as it was.

  “Oh, yes, I suppose these secrets were kept from most within the Rose,” said Lune. “Tantia is supposed to be dead. She was supposed to be dead before most of our bloom-sisters withered. My predecessor left a trail of correspondence pertaining to the subject of… I’m thinking of ways to put it politely.”

  “To kill that rabid dog, that wretched whore, that horrid traitor,” roared Priscil. “She killed one of our own. It was only proper that our fellow Blossoms cut off her head. You don’t mean to tell me that she outmatched two of our assassins.”

  “It could well be that they were cimed by our camity before cornering Sullhon,” Dorthea proposed. “Our former Grand Master, in her wisdom, did not want to sow any cause for hysteria or concern, so this was all veiled from the greater part of the Rose. But, yes, Tantia Sullhon butchered a young Blossom for no apparent reason.”

  “Hounds need no reason to kill,” said Priscil. “Least of all diseased, poxy beasts. I always despised her, but did not think her capable of such barbarism. That girl… She had a name. Lillian. I qualmed at the notion of veiling the cause of her death, but I trusted the Grand Master’s judgment. So long as Tantia died, it made no matter if few knew this tale. Why should so many of our gentlest and most beloved sisters perish while that fiend still draws breath?”

  “The undeniable fact is that she is our sole liaison within Valkeavise,” Narges remarked. “How vexing. Will we make use of her?”

  “Have we a choice?” Asked Henriette. “If she knows more than we do about recent affairs in Valkeavise, and it certainly appears that she does, then we have no recourse but to rely on her, loathe as we are to not immediately pursue justice against her.”

  “I see no loathing in the tone of your voice,” Priscil said between teeth.

  “Pragmatism has always tasted like bile,” said Henriette, “or we would always swallow it easily. I promise you, Tantia will be brought to justice. True justice, in front of the Rose, and this judgment will not be passed by an assassin’s bde but by our righteous decree in the eyes of all Blossoms.”

  “I’m certain she’ll simply surrender herself and will expect no assurances on our part,” Enor slouched on her seat. “Now, about that other matter…”

  “The Court of Nightshades,” said Henriette. “They make themselves difficult to contact.”

  “That is the entire point, yes,” said Enor. “If we could simply beckon and share a tale or two, then there would be no separation between us. I have reached out to them, but the rituals involved are… Complex. And demanded more than a scant few drops of my blood. Soon I might need to exsanguinate Ingunn, if she’s a good bleeder.”

  “Have they at least acknowledged our predicament?”

  “They have,” said Enor. This much was unexpected. So long had the Blossoms and Nightshade been apart that Tomiris believed they would never exchange words again. If they offered even a small reply, then that meant they were still their allies, of a sort. “I expined the nature of our loss to them, and in response was informed that they were able to feel it, too, but it did not reach them. The powers that culled our fellow magical girls have no reach in the chthonic domains. The Nightshades are troubled by this development, to say the least.”

  “I understand. Please invite them to our Tower,” Henriette said. Now isn’t this becoming ever more interesting by the minute? “An unprecedented measure for an unprecedented crisis… I wonder how the centuries have shaped their image of us.”

  “I pray you well understand what you do,” said Marinor. “Whatever you say of the Nightshades, to most, even among magical girls, they might as well be demons. Even if they look like us, speak in our tongue, work alongside us… Their first sin taints and follows them.”

  “They would say the same of us,” Enor retorted. “Does it matter? Judgment and inclinations do little to change the situation we find ourselves in. Your moralizing is so dull. Well, I’ll make the arrangements to contact the Court as soon as we’re dismissed. I think there is little progress to be made now, and I don’t care to hear your pontifications and qualms when in the end you will relent to necessity.”

  “So be it,” Henriette decred. “You are all well-informed of the most urgent developments. Enor, continue your work; Lune, accumute more intelligence regarding Valkeavise, so we needn’t depend so completely on Tantia. Priscil, I would have you work with me in drafting a reply to Sullhon. We measure our words to not grant her an excess of concessions and compromises. And you,” she turned to Sayuri, “will continue your diplomatic work as you do now. We will soon receive the princesses Ryscrux and Krisolde, and none better than you and Ofelia to greet them as they are brought into the fold. In due time we will make preparations for your journey to Tawarasato, but first there are seeds we must sow. Now let us resume our duties.”

  Sayuri was the first to rise, almost comically so. This was a mistake, Tomiris knew, because in her desire to leave as soon as she could, the Princess would waste the opportunity to converse with her peers, to build connections which might one day be useful. Tomiris doubted that Gatharin or Narges would not work towards strengthening their ties with other heads of Office, including the ones yet to be appointed, and this was a valuable prospect for all the adjutants as well.

  Right as she walked away alongside the Princess, however, a voice called out to her. Tomiris, Priscil said, suddenly behind her, still joined by her assistants, one still with her parasol in hands—which suddenly struck Tomiris as rather absurd. As Priscil requested a moment of her time, Sayuri excused herself, as though she had somewhere important to be and wouldn’t just return to her apartments.

  “I believe you would like to know that we have secured peace in Tel Ubaitha,” she said. It was not the first time these words were uttered. Her homend always had tempestuous retions with the Rose, with periods of stillness whose duration none could predict. “The Eight Brass Temples have offered us their condolences. I believe they are genuine, because they’ve also expressed their interest in us mediating their negotiations with Rhaysat. The Amirate of Rhaysat has remained steadfast in its neutrality but all of us must sway to the shifting winds. Some of my predecessors favored pursuing a policy of preventing any diplomatic incursions that could bridge the distance between the Temples and the Amirate. Mycroft is of a mind alongside me that the economic pressures that were applied to Rhaysat are an antiquated notion.”

  “Those are excellent news indeed, if true,” said Tomiris, cautious. She knew better than to blindly trust the Brass Temples, opponents of the Ruby Blossom for millennia, and trusted Rhaysat even less. But if this was how the Temple Elders meant to press their advantage as the Rose was weakened, it gddened her heart all the same. Her home had known enough war. She dared to dream that this could bear sweet fruits. Marinor Mycroft was gentle but intelligent, and for all her faults, Lady Varvozi always favored peace and compromise. “Have we no cause to worry, should we allow their bonds to tighten, however?”

  “There always is cause to worry,” Priscil shrugged. “If even us Roses at times fail to uphold our own ideals, it is expected that outsiders know even greater selfishness and folly. But this we cannot change. Every peace won by the quill rather than by the sword has been a toss of the dice. But our most luminous duty is to foster these rare moments of men’s higher nature. The Temples will grow in power, and they will spread. They will benefit from trade with Rhaysat, and the Amirate will benefit from being the bridge between the Searing Sea of Tel Ubaitha and Siodrune. Whatever that costs us in the long term is a finer arrangement than we could ever gain by strength of arms, and a less demanding toll.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” Tomiris said, and meant it. Few Roses remained in Tel Ubaitha, and those that did were stationed within the northernmost, allied Territories. “The Eight Brass Temples could subjugate the Amirate without our aid, right?”

  “It is almost certain,” Priscil admitted. “Tel Ubaitha is distant enough from the imperial core that it would be difficult to justify an expedition that would probably be suicidal. If the Empire got involved, then, far more blood would be shed. Blood of our allies, blood of our enemies, a red tide to make a sea of the deserts. I will not have it said that my first act in the Office of Nunciature was wasting a rare opportunity to secure peace in pce of war. Whatever we are, however diminished, we must prevail without straying from our oaths,” catching herself growing rather infmed, Priscil covered her mouth with a hand gloved in dark blue silk, then quickly composed herself. “Your family in Rhaysat has been informed that you still live. We could not rey anything beyond that, nor bring back news from them. There were more urgent affairs, and we cannot be seen to give preference to any of our sisters. I have a mind to send you and Princess Hiramatsu in our diplomatic delegation. She is not ready for Tawarasato, however much Lady Valchenza is eager to cim that triumph. The experience will bring her much gain. There are still more details to be arranged and messages to be sent, so, should you so wish, I can ensure that a letter reaches your family. If there is anything you wish to say.”

  “Anything…” Tomiris smiled. The longer she lived in Siodrune, the more distant her past life became. She wondered how her parents reacted to the news of her survival. Had they shed tears for her? Or had they grimly accepted that this was the price she had to pay for turning her back on her homend? She found herself a child again, hoping for their approval and their relief. And for their apologies, too…

  Tell them I remember them. Tell them I hope they haven’t forgotten me, either. Tell them I hope they care. She wanted to say that. Father, Mother… I never betrayed you. I pray you’ve come to regret your curses and your anger.

  “I will think on it,” was all she said.