“This is … not what I expected,” the Unceasing Emperor finally said. His gaze was piercing. “Does Queen Sabran have a plan?”
“Her Majesty has proposed an attack on two fronts. First,” Loth said, “the rulers of the West, North, and South would join their armies to take back the Draconic stronghold of Cárscaro.”
Even as Loth said it, the face of the Donmata Marosa rose unbidden from his memory.
Would she survive if the city was stormed?
“It will draw the eye of Fyredel, right wing of the beast,” he continued. “We hope that he will send at least some of the Draconic Army, to defend it, leaving the Nameless One more vulnerable.”
“I presume she also has a plan to drive back the beast itself.”
“Yes.”
“Queen Sabran is indeed ambitious,” the Unceasing Emperor remarked, one eyebrow rising, “but what is it she offers my country in return for the labor of its gods?”
As their gazes met, Loth suddenly remembered the glassblower in Rauca. Bargaining had never been his strong point. Now he would have to barter for the fate of the world.
“First, the chance to make history,” he began. “With this act, you would be the emperor who bridged the Abyss. Imagine a world where we can trade freely again; where we can benefit from our shared knowledge, from—”
“—my dragons,” the Unceasing Emperor cut in. “And those of my brother-in-arms in Seiiki, I presume. The world you paint is beautiful, but the red sickness is still as much a threat to our shores as ever.”
“If we defeat our common enemy, and stamp out Draconic support, then the red sickness will ebb away.”
“We can only hope. What else?”
Loth made the offers the Virtues Council had permitted him to make. A new trading partnership between Virtudom and the East. Guarantees that the Inysh would support the Lacustrine, both financially and militarily, in the event of conflict or disaster for as long as the alliance endured. A tribute in jewels and gold for the Eastern dragons.
“This all sounds very reasonable,” the Unceasing Emperor remarked, “but I note that you have not mentioned marriage, Lord Arteloth. Her Majesty does offer her hand?”
Loth wet his lips.
“My queen would be honored to strengthen this historic alliance through matrimony,” he began, smiling. Even Margret had admitted that his smile could soften any heart. “However, she is latterly widowed. She would prefer that this be a military alliance only. Of course,” he added, “she understands if Lacustrine tradition forbids this without marriage.”
“I am saddened for Her Majesty, and pray she finds strength in her grief.” The Unceasing Emperor paused. “Admirable of her, to think we can overcome those differences without marriage, and the heir that would follow. Indeed, all this is a step toward modernity.”
He drummed his fingers on the arms of his throne again, studying Loth with mild interest.
“I can tell that you are no diplomat, Lord Arteloth, but your attempts to flatter me are good-natured, if clumsy. And these are desperate times,” the Unceasing Emperor concluded. “In the name of a modern alliance … I will not make marriage a prerequisite of the arrangement.”
“Really?” Loth blurted. “Your Imperial Majesty,” he added, hot in the face.
“You are surprised by my swift agreement.”
“I did expect more difficulty,” Loth admitted.
“I like to imagine that I am a forward-looking ruler. And it happens that I am in no mood to marry.” His face tightened for a moment. “I should clarify, Lord Arteloth, that I am only agreeing to the stand against the Nameless One. Other matters, such as trade, will take far more time to resolve. Given the continued threat of the red sickness.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Of course, my personal consent to a battle on the sea, while valuable to you, is not a guarantee that this will proceed. I must consult with my Grand Secretariat first, for my people will expect an alliance to come with an empress, and I imagine that the more old-fashioned of them will argue for it. Either way, it must be framed wisely.”
Loth was too overwhelmed with relief to worry. “Of course.”
“I must also consult with the Imperial Dragon, who is my guiding star. The dragons of this country are her subjects, not mine, and will only be persuaded if she finds this alliance to her liking.”
“I understand.” Loth bowed low. “Thank you, Majesty.” He straightened and cleared his throat. “There is great risk for us all, I know. But what ruler made history by avoiding it?”
At this, the Unceasing Emperor permitted himself the ghost of a smile.
“Until we come to an agreement, Lord Arteloth, you will remain here as my honored guest,” he said. “And unless my ministers raise any concerns that require further discussion, you will have an answer by dawn.”
“Thank you.” Loth hesitated. “Your Majesty, might— might Lady Tané go on dragonback to take this news to Queen Sabran?”
Tané looked at him. “Lady Tané is not my subject, Lord Arteloth,” the Unceasing Emperor said. “You will have to discuss the matter with her yourself. But first,” he said, “I should like Lady Tané to join me for breakfast.”
When he rose, the guards flinched to attention. He spoke to Tané in another language and, with a nod, she left with him.
Loth walked with Thim back to the Twilight Gardens. Thim skimmed a stone across the pond.
“It doesn’t matter what the ministers say.”
Loth frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The only counsel His Imperial Majesty heeds, apart from that of the shining Imperial Dragon, is that of his grandmother, the Grand Empress Dowager.” Thim watched the ripples spread. “He respects her above all others. She will already know every word that passed between us in that throne room.”
Loth glanced over his shoulder.
“If she advises him against the alliance—”
“On the contrary,” Thim said, “I think she will encourage it. So that he might live up to his reign-name. How can a mortal be unceasing, after all, except through memorable and historic actions?”
“Then there may be hope.” Loth loosed a breath. “You will have to excuse me, Thim. If this is to work, I must do my part and pray for it.”
When she was a child, Tané had imagined many possible futures for herself. In her dreams, she had thrown down the fire-breathing demons on the back of her dragon. She had become the greatest rider in Seiiki, greater even than Princess Dumai, and children had prayed that they would be like her one day. Her image had been painted on the walls of great houses, and her name had been enshrined in history.
In all that time, she had never dreamed that she would one day walk with the Unceasing Emperor of the Twelve Lakes in the City of the Thousand Flowers.
The Unceasing Emperor wore a cloak lined with fur. As they followed the paths, which had been cleared of snow, his bodyguards shadowed them. When they reached a pavilion beside a pond, the Unceasing Emperor motioned to one of the chairs.
“Please,” he said. Tané sat, and so did he. “I thought that you could join me while I break my fast.”
“This humble one is honored, Majesty.”
“Do you know what kind of bird that is?”
Tané looked in the direction he was indicating. Close by, a swan was tending to its nest.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “A swan.”
“Ah, not just any swan. In Lacustrine, these ones are called silent swans. It was said that the Nameless One burned their voices from their throats, and they will only sing again when a ruler is born who will see the end of that fiend once and for all. They say the night I came into this world, they sang for the first time in centuries.” He smiled. “And people wonder why we sovereigns form such a high opinion of ourselves. They try to make us think that even birds care what we do.”
Tané smiled a little in return.
“I find your story intriguing. I understand that you were once a promising sea guardian, but a misunderstanding in Ginura led to your exile to Feather Island.”
“Yes, Majesty,” Tané said.
“I have a great love for stories. Will you humor me and tell me all that has happened to you?”
Her palms were sweating.
“A great deal has happened to me,” she finally said. “It may take some of Your Majesty’s morning.”
“Ah, I have nothing to do but watch my councillors wring their hands over Lord Arteloth’s proposal.”
Servants came to pour them tea and offer platters of food: dates soaked in red mountain-honey, sun pears, plum-leaved apples, steamed nuts, mounds of black rice. Each dish was covered with a square of silk embroidered with stars. She had sworn never to speak of her past, but his easy smile put her at ease. While he ate, she told him about how she had broken seclusion and witnessed the arrival of Sulyard, and how Susa had paid for her reckless attempt to conceal it, and everything that had occurred since.