“You wanted to atone for the misdeeds of the guards, didn’t you? For the likes of him, meeting the empress will more than make up for a few bruises. Besides, he’s just a boy. No one will care.”
Amilia thought a moment, staring at the wide-eyed child. “What do you think, Mince? Would you like to give it to the empress yourself?”
The boy looked as if he might faint.
Modina had found a mouse in her chamber three months earlier. When she had lit the lamp, it had frozen in panic in the middle of the room. Picking it up, she felt its little chest heave as it panted for breath. Clearly terrified, it looked back at her with its dark, tiny eyes. Modina thought it might die of fright. Even after she set it down, it still did not move. Only after the light had been out for several minutes did she hear it scurry away. The mouse had never returned—until now.
He was not that mouse, but the boy looked just the same. He lacked the fur, tail, and whiskers, but the eyes were unmistakable. He stood fearfully still, the only movement the result of his heaving chest and trembling body.
“Did you say his name was Mouse?”
“Mince, I think he said,” Amilia corrected. “It is Mince, isn’t it?”
The boy said nothing, clutching the bag to his chest.
“I found him at the tournament. He wants to give you a gift. Go on, Mince.”
Instead of speaking, Mince abruptly thrust the bag out with both hands.
“He wanted to give this to you because Saldur announced that you were too sick to attend the tournament. He says it has healing powers.”
Modina took the bag, opened it, and drew forth the robe. Despite having been stuffed in the old, dirty sack, the garment shimmered—not a single wrinkle or stain on it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said sincerely as she held it up, watching it play with the light. “It reminds me of someone I once knew. I will cherish it.”
When the boy heard the words, tears formed in his eyes and streaked his dirty cheeks. Falling to his knees, he placed his face on the floor before her.
Puzzled, Modina glanced at Amilia, but the imperial secretary only offered a shrug. The empress stared at the boy for a moment and then said to Amilia, “He looks starved.”
“Do you want me to take him to the kitchen?”
“No, leave him here. Go have some food sent up.”
After Amilia left the room, Modina laid the robe on a chair and then sat on the edge of the bed, watching the boy. He had not moved, and remained kneeling with his head still touching the floor. After a few minutes, he looked up but said nothing.
Modina spoke gently. “I’m very good at playing the silent game too. We can sit here for days not saying a word if you want.”
The boy’s lips trembled. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then stopped.
“Go ahead. It’s okay.”
Once he started, the words came out in a flood, as if he felt the need to say everything with a single breath. “I just want ya to get better, that’s all. Honest. I brought ya the robe because it saved Kine, see. It healed him overnight, I tell ya. He was dying, and he woulda been dead by morning, for sure. But the robe made him better. Then today, when they said you was too sick to see the tournament, I knew I had to bring ya the robe to make ya better. Ya see?”
“I’m sorry, Mince, but I’m afraid a robe can’t heal what’s wrong with me.”
The boy frowned. “But… it healed Kine and his lips were blue.”
Modina walked over and sat down on the floor in front of him.
“I know you mean well, and it’s a wonderful gift, but some things can never be fixed.”
“But—”
“No buts. You need to stop worrying about me. Do you understand?”
“Why?”
“You just have to. Will you do that for me?”
The boy looked up and locked eyes with her. “I would do anything for you.”
The sincerity and conviction in his voice staggered her.
“I love you,” he added.
Those three words shook her, and even though she was sitting on the floor, the empress put a hand down to steady herself.
“No,” she said. “You can’t. You just met—”
“Yes, I do.”
Modina shook her head. “No, you don’t!” she snapped. “No one does!”
The boy flinched as if struck. He looked back down at the floor and, nevertheless, added in a whisper, “But I do. Everyone does.”
The empress stared at him.
“What do you mean—‘everyone’?”
“Everyone,” the boy said, puzzled. He gestured toward the window.
“You mean the people in the city?”
“Well, sure, them, but not just here. Everywhere. Everyone loves you,” the boy repeated. “Folks been coming to the city from all over. I hear them talking. They all come to see ya. All of them saying how the world’s gonna be better ’cuz you’re here. How they would die for you.”
Stunned, Modina stood up slowly.
She turned and walked to the window, where she gazed into the distance—above the roofs to the hills and snow-covered mountains beyond.