Eona - Alison Goodman [36]
The emperor eyed me impassively. I had seen his honored father wear the same stony mask when dealing with unwelcome news. I tried not to shift under the relentless stare. The old emperor had been a shrewd politician, willing to listen to opposing views without reprisal. I hoped his son had the same restraint.
“You may go, captain.” The emperor waved his dismissal. Yuso bowed and backed away.
The emperor waited until he was out of earshot, then said, “My uncle may have the greater military force, Lady Eona, but he does not have the Imperial Pearl, nor your power behind him.”
“My power, Your Majesty?” I dug my fingernail into the gold peony etched on the flask. “Are you asking me to use my dragon for war?”
“War?” He shook his head. “There will be no war. That is why we have the days of Rightful Claim; to prevent such a disaster. I have the ancient symbol of sovereignty”—he touched the pearl at his throat—“and I have the support of the Mirror Dragoneye, the symbol of renewed power. My uncle will see that his claim cannot stand against mine.”
I knew I was untutored in the ways of statecraft, but I was sure I had not mistaken Sethon’s ambition. Nor his ruthlessness.
“Your uncle is not dealing in symbols, Your Majesty. He is dealing in force. He has already decreed himself emperor, pearl or no pearl.”
His hand went to his throat again. “You don’t understand. Without this pearl, my uncle cannot hold the throne. It is what keeps the dragons with us—the seal of our celestial bargain.”
“Then he will kill you and take it.” For a moment, all I felt was the pearl’s soft fire under my fingers, and the burn of Kinra’s purpose. I clenched my hands, fighting off the memory.
“If he takes it, he will not have to kill me,” the emperor said dryly. “It is now part of my Hua, joined to me through blood. I die if it is removed.”
“Part of you? I don’t understand.”
“It is said the pearl is a living link to the dragons. Once it is sewn into an emperor’s throat, the two are joined forever through the blood. It is why it must be transferred from a dead emperor’s body to the living heir in less than twelve breaths. Otherwise the pearl will die and the seal of our bargain will be gone.”
I studied the gold setting that circled the pearl and counted twelve stitches in gold thread radiating from it. The three at the top were neatly placed but the rest were a mess, the flesh around them still bruised and scabbed. “Twelve breaths does not sound very long for such delicate work,” I said.
He gave a rough laugh. “Less than a minute and a half for twelve stitches in the throat. As you can see, my physician was both nervous and pressed for time.”
“It must have hurt.”
For a moment, he hesitated intent on some inner debate. Finally he looked me square in the eye. “It was the most painful thing I have ever endured,” he said, and I knew it was no small thing for him to make such an admission. Or for me to receive it. “The setting around the pearl has twelve barbs that first pierce the skin and hold the pearl against the throat,” he added. “Each barb also has an eyelet so it can be stitched into the flesh too.” His finger circled the edge of the damage. “And there is something else; a burning that enters into the blood and feels like acid flowing through the body for hours afterward.”
I found myself swallowing in sympathy. “Does your uncle know about the pearl dying?”
“Of course. Twelve-breaths-twelve-stitches is taught to all royal males in line for the throne.”
“Then he must take you alive so that he can transfer the pearl to his own throat safely.”
He shook his head. “You seem very sure my uncle will ignore Rightful Claim.”
I steeled myself for what I was about to say. “Your uncle has slaughtered your mother and brother, and poisoned your father. Why would he stop at you?”
Had I gone too far? I knew my words had struck their target—it was in the widening of his eyes—but I refused to flinch. The emperor may have felt blood rage at the news of his family’s death, but he had not seen Sethon’s sword impale his infant brother. Nor