31
When the general’s wound finally closed, the emperor gave him a gold watch.
Kestrel stood with her father and the emperor on the pale green lawn of the Spring Garden. Archery targets had been set up, and courtiers took their turns. The sky was heaped with whipped-cream clouds. The wind blew soft and warm. Kestrel’s maids had packed away her winter clothes and brought out dresses of lace and toile.
She thought of Arin in his twinned rooftop garden in Herran. She wondered what bloomed for him there now.
The watch struck the hour.
General Trajan raised his brows. “It chimes.”
The emperor looked pleased, and Kestrel supposed that it might have been easy to mistake her father’s expression for wonder. But she saw the uncomfortable line of his mouth.
“Don’t be jealous, Kestrel,” said the emperor. “I haven’t forgotten that your birthday is coming up.”
She would turn eighteen. Her birthday was near spring’s end: right before the wedding. “It’s more than two months from now.”
“Yes, not so far away. Trajan, I insist that you stay in the capital right through until the wedding.”
The general shut the watch. “We just seized the eastern plains. If you want to hold them—”
“Your lieutenants can manage. You’re barely healed. You can’t expect to lead a regiment in battle, and quite frankly, you’re no good to me dead. You’ll stay here. We’ll celebrate Kestrel’s birthday together.” With the air of someone presenting the best idea in the world, he added, “I thought that she could perform for the court.”
There was the soft, faraway thump of an arrow hitting canvas.
The general said nothing. Kestrel watched his mouth harden.
“She has such a gift for music,” said the emperor, “like your wife did.”
The general’s hatred of Kestrel’s music had always been clear. It embarrassed him: her love for an instrument that one bought slaves to play. Sometimes, though, Kestrel thought that it wasn’t just that. The piano was his rival. He had wanted her to enlist in the military. She wouldn’t. He wanted her to stop playing. She wouldn’t. The piano became her way of refusing him … or at least this was how she had thought he saw it. Only now did it occur to her that he hated to hear her play because it hurt.
“I confess,” the emperor said, “that I want to show Kestrel off. I want everyone to see what talent my future daughter has.” With a smile, he excused himself to speak with the Senate leader.
General Trajan’s hand closed around the watch.
What a silly gift to give a man who led nighttime assaults where stealth could mean the difference between life and death. “Give it to me,” Kestrel said. “I will find a nice convenient rock to drop it on.”
The general smiled a little. “When the emperor gives you a gift, it’s best to wear it.” He glanced at the new dagger at Kestrel’s hip. “Sometimes what he gives is actually a way of saying what’s his.”
I’m not his, she wanted to say, but her father was already gone, walking slowly across the lawn to greet an off-duty naval officer.
Someone must have struck a target’s center. She heard a smattering of applause.
“Are you going to shoot?”
It was Verex. He had approached without her noticing.
“Not today.” The wind was tricky and her father was here. She didn’t want to miss.
Verex offered her his arm. “Let’s see who wins.”
As they walked together, Kestrel said, “You seem to know a good deal about medicine.”
He shrugged.
“Would you rather be a doctor than an emperor?”
Verex peered down the low slope. He didn’t say anything. Kestrel wasn’t sure if it was because he had been offended by the question or because he didn’t know how to answer it. Then he said, “The Herrani minister of agriculture is looking at you.”
Kestrel glanced to see Tensen sitting in a chair under the trees, folded hands resting on the cane planted into the grass in front of him.
“No, don’t look back,” said Verex. “Be careful, Kestrel.”
Her step faltered. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You know why my father keeps him at court, don’t you?”
Slowly, Kestrel said, “To watch him.”
“What will my father think if he watches that minister watch you?”
Kestrel swallowed a bubbling nervousness. Her hands, though lightly gloved, were very cold. But she strove to sound confident and careless. “People look at me all the time. I can’t help it.”
Verex shook his head and turned to eye the archers.
“I assure you,” she said, “I care nothing for Herran’s minister.”
He gave her a sidelong, reproachful look. “Kestrel, I know what you care about.”
She tried for a teasing tone and change of subject. “Since we’re gossiping about who watches whom, don’t you think it’s time you told me which of my maids is in your pay?”
“What would that change? Don’t you realize by now that all of them are watching you? I bribe one, but who bribes the others?” Verex faced her fully now. “You asked me whether I would have liked to become a physician. Yes. I would have. Once. I even had books on the subject. My father burned them. Kestrel, I know you think that you’ve hidden your heart where no one can see it.” Verex’s dark eyes held hers. “But you need to hide it better.”
An arrow flew high above its target, its feathers whistling.
“Verex, what has my maid told you?”
“Not much … so far.” He must have seen the worry she was trying to hide. His expression softened. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”
Kestrel mustered a bright, tense smile.
Verex sighed. “Come on,” he said. “I want to see Risha shoot.”
Kestrel let him lead her to the archers. She was glad that she’d made no promise to enter the archery contest. Her fingers would tremble on the bowstring.
Risha notched an arrow. She had a fine, strong line. Kestrel focused on watching the eastern girl. If she watched Risha with the same intensity that Verex did, she might be able to forget, if only for a moment, Verex’s warning.
Risha let the arrow go. It soared lazily and hit the target’s edge. All of her arrows in the target were badly placed. Kestrel would have thought from the way Risha held her bow that she would have been able to do better. Then again, the day was full of sneaky little breezes.
Risha aimed again.
“… born first?” Kestrel heard someone saying. “A baby prince or princess?”
Verex went still beside her. Kestrel spotted the gossiping courtiers. She realized they were looking right at her and Verex. Their words came clear on the wind. It shouldn’t have taken so long for Kestrel to understand what they meant. When she did, her cheeks burned.
Risha let the arrow fly.
It drove deep into the target’s very center.