Eona - Alison Goodman [50]
The rest of my words were lost in his intent gaze and the brush of his hand against my cheek.
For a moment, I smelled the green snap of tree gum on his fingers and the faint scent of smoky leather and horse. His skin was damp with sweat, the stark contours of his shaved head lost in a day’s dark growth. From someplace deep came an urge to reach up and run my hand across the soft bristle.
But I had seen that same look in Ido’s eyes. In the whipmaster’s eyes. Even in my master’s eyes. I stepped back.
“I am your Naiso,” I said.
It was a flimsy shield. As my emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted. Yet his hand dropped from my face, the intensity pulled back on an indrawn breath.
“My truth bringer,” he said.
I bowed my head. If our eyes met again, he would see the weakness in my armor. And my guilt.
“You are right,” he said. “I should not emulate my father.”
His words brought my head up, but he had already turned away. As he strode past the last of the overhanging trees, he ripped off a branch and flung it with such force that it startled a pheasant into whirring flight.
“You have a talent for irritating His Majesty,” Dela said behind me.
“It is my duty, isn’t it?” I said, not quite sure what had happened between us. “I’m his Naiso.”
“That kind of irritation is not usually one of the Naiso’s duties,” she said wryly. She touched my arm, urging me to walk by her side. “Then again,” she added, “he is only following his father’s example.”
I caught her shoulder, pulling her around to face me. “He mentioned his father, too.”
She nodded, as if she had overheard our conversation. “It was not common knowledge, but the old emperor did have a Naiso. She was his concubine and mother of his first-born son.”
“Lady Jila was his Naiso?” My mind struggled to recast the elegant beauty into political advisor.
Dela’s smile was sad. “And a most worthy one, although the old emperor did not listen to her warnings about his brother. She was a remarkable woman. No wonder the old emperor eschewed all others.”
We both looked at the straight-backed figure of Kygo ahead. “I am not going to be his concubine,” I said fiercely.
“You are missing the point,” Dela said. “Lady Jila was not just a concubine. Certainly, she had the power of her body, but she also had much more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know. It is something you must come to yourself.” She held out the red folio, her face somber. “Your ancestress should have considered the dangers of such power.”
“Have you found something?”
She stroked the red leather binding and the rope of pearls in her palm clicked in response. “This is not Kinra’s journal of her union with the Mirror Dragon.”
I closed my eyes, the disappointment like a bright pain in my head.
Dela took my hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you were hoping for some guidance. I don’t think there will be any clues to your link with Ryko, either.”
I returned the pressure; Ryko would be even more unhappy at such news, and I knew it pained Dela to hurt him.
“What is the journal about, then?’
She lowered her voice. “It is not clear yet, but I think it tells of some kind of conspiracy. It must have been dangerous information, since Kinra felt it was necessary to write most of it in such a difficult code. And I have also discovered an entry that is not in Kinra’s hand.”
“Whose hand is it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It is not signed in any way. It is little more than a few lines right at the very back.” She paused. “Eona, it notes Kinra’s execution. For treason. I do not know what she did, but Emperor Dao had her killed for it.”
Our eyes met. Within that glance was a whole conversation: my shame and fear of discovery, her grave acknowledgment, and the decision to keep the information between us.
“Is this why you will not touch her belongings?” she asked.
“She was a traitor,” I whispered, knowing such dishonor would be enough for Dela. She did not need to know about the Imperial Pearl or the pull of Kinra’s energy.
“It is a burden I wish you did not have to bear.” She