Eona - Alison Goodman [37]
Still, it took all of my will not to drop into a kowtow.
Nearby, Vida dug through a saddlebag; Tiron conferred with Solly; and Dela wearily loosened her hair from its tight binding—none of them aware that their emperor thought he could just walk into the palace and take back his throne.
“You are very blunt, Lady Eona,” he finally said. He pressed his hands against his eyes. “I’m a fool. My father stubbornly trusted his brother, and now here I am, doing exactly the same thing.” His long sigh relinquished the hope of a bloodless claim. “Of course you are right. He will try and take the pearl. He certainly will not be the first to think he can steal its power.”
The emperor knew the history of the pearl; perhaps he knew about Kinra. Here was my chance to discover if the memories that came with her swords were true, if my blood was truly tainted. In the space of a quickened heartbeat, I fought a battle between risk and opportunity.
“Like Kinra,” I said, and the two words took all of my breath.
He lowered his hands, startled. “How did you hear of Kinra?”
I scrabbled for a plausible story. “I—I saw her name in one of Lord Brannon’s record scrolls.” His surprise faded. “It only said she tried to steal the pearl. Was she an assassin, Your Majesty?”
“No, just a Blossom Woman. She nearly bewitched the pearl from Emperor Dao. He had her executed as a traitor by the Twelve Days of Torture.” He leaned closer. “I’ve heard the executioners can keep someone alive for days even after they have cut out the main organs. Something to keep in mind for my uncle.”
I turned away, hoping my face did not betray me. The stories were not the same—somehow my ancestress had become prostitute rather than Dragoneye—but in my vision, I had been Kinra, caressing an emperor’s throat, stroking the pearl. Perhaps the stories were not so far apart. Was this how she was erased from history, reduced from Dragoneye Queen to treacherous whore?
The emperor touched my arm. “My apologies, Lady Eona, I did not mean to frighten you.”
I rallied a weak smile. “I think I am just tired, Your Majesty.”
A gesture brought Vida to his side. “Bring Lady Eona some food. And a rug.” He stood. “I will leave you to rest.”
In a few strides he was beside Tiron, advising the guard on Ju-Long’s rubdown. I prayed he would rethink his strategy and return to our goal of the east. Although he had inherited his father’s misguided loyalties and sense of tradition, it also seemed he had inherited his mother’s flexible mind and quick insight.
“I will take that to Lady Eona,” I heard Ryko say.
Before I could prepare myself, the big islander was standing before me. He held out a piece of hard-bread and a gnarled strip of dried meat.
“Thank you.” I took the bread, avoiding his eyes.
His free hand clenched into a fist. “How did you control me?”
“I don’t know.” I looked up at him. His mouth was tight with disbelief. “Ryko, I truly don’t know!”
“Why, then?”
“There had been enough death.”
“Can you do it whenever you want to?” His stern expression could not mask the fear in his voice.
Dela crossed over to us. “What is this about, Ryko?” She laid her hand on his arm. “You are towering over Lady Eona.” She emphasized my rank.
He shrugged off her hold. “Lady Eona has some kind of power over my will. She stopped me from fighting.”
“Power over your will?” Dela repeated, but her eyes questioned me.
“It’s true,” I said, lowering my voice, “but I don’t know how. It’s as if a link opens between us when things are desperate.”
“Is it only Ryko? Do you have power over anyone else?” she asked.
“No, only Ry—” I stopped, overwhelmed by a sudden, unwelcome truth. “Yes. Lord Ido, too. It is not completely the same, but they both have some kind of link.”
“Ryko and Lord Ido,” Dela said slowly, thoughtfully. “What is the connection?”
“Nothing connects us,” Ryko said coldly. “I have nothing in common with that whoreson.”
“Not true,” Dela said.