After Zott’s unconventional entrance, nothing good happened.

  By the time Rae and Ven had chased the intruder away, Sebi had reappeared. He lingered in Rae’s room for a while after stiffly greeting Ven.

  “I’ve heard all about how hard Young master Ven has been working as of late. And I can see it in your complexion. Best get some rest,” he said before leaving them alone.

  The sound of him unpacking his healing supplies in the next room put them off any further exploration.

  “Another time,” Ven smiled.

  Rae’s bones were still thrumming with joy when he put himself to bed.

  Another time.

  A few days later, Rae went to check on the foreign boy.

  His hut was small and weather-worn. The foreigner had tried and failed to fix the patchier parts of the thatched roof. Next to it was a field being grazed bare by a few goats. The foreigner had been feeding them out of his hand when Rae arrived.

  A little timid, he startled when Rae approached.

  “You-! Your-! Sir, this humble one is grateful for your hospitality!”

  It was plain that someone had told him that someone important was coming, but not how he should conduct himself. He dropped the fistful of food and threw himself to the ground. On his knees, head bowed, almost prostrate.

  Is this something his people…?

  The boy waited, hiding behind a curtain of mahogany hair, cut bluntly, just below his chin. Nothing would move until Rae initiated.

  “Stand, stand! There’s no need to lie in the dirt,” Rae stammered.

  The boy stood and brushed the dust off his clothes.

  “Your lordship… Your eminence is too generous,”

  Rae wasn’t quite sure what a ‘your eminence’ was.

  “No need to be so…”

  Just talk to me normally! I mean you no ill will!

  “I apologise. I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m Rae je Kaolin. My people call me the Shak. Any other titles are unnecessary—”

  As Rae spoke, the foreigner whispered ‘Rae je Kaolin’ under his breath, labouring every syllable.

  “—And what should I call you?”

  The foreigner replied with a strange mesh of sounds, “Iova.”

  “Is that a family name?” Rae asked, hoping to pry some information about imperial noble clans out of him.

  “I’ve only one name: only Iova,”

  So he wasn’t a noble after all…

  Unless Rae’s information was outdated?

  He had thought all imperial nobles used surnames. But maybe he was mistaken…

  They said this boy had crossed the border draped in silk and gold. Was he a thief?

  There was no good way to ask. But even if Iova was a mere commoner, there would still be useful information to extract.

  Dressed in a borrowed wool robe, he didn’t look like something alien. His speech had something off about it, some sounds too elongated, some consonants too harsh. His appearance, stripped of his finery and surrounded by a rugged mountain camp, couldn’t be described as extraordinary. But there were more subtle signs. Signs Rae knew all too well.

  The hand with which he fed the goats? Pale, slender fingers, not bearing the mark of any labour at all. What had this thief-commoner-noble contributed before they drove him out? And why were they so set on getting him back?

  As Iova stood there, one of the goats was nuzzling at his side, searching his pockets for food. He gently pushed the imploring mouth away.

  “I hear they’ve been working you hard,” Rae said.

  Iova smiled, “Not at all. I’m grateful to be kept busy,”

  Rae felt there was something behind those words. Something he understood. Now that they were looking at each other directly, not hiding behind hair and averted gazes, Rae could study his face.

  Pale pinkish skin, unmarred except for the yellow-grey ghosts of healing bruises.

  “Did my people do that?” Rae asked when the boy noticed him staring.

  “No. It was my own,”

  The boy said this with a smile that was somehow both soft and piercing.

  Rae coughed.

  “All the same, I have much I want to ask you about. Can I trouble you for some tea?”

  By asking that, Rae saw, for the first time, indecisiveness wage war on Iova’s expression. Then the moment was over, and the mask was back. Whatever had disconcerted him, politeness won out.

  “Of course. I’d be a fool to refuse,”

  It was evident that this hut had spent much of its existence as little more than a storage shed, and Iova had barely begun to clear away the dust and grime. There was a long-neglected hearth in the corner, unlit. A wooden screen divided off one corner, with a rush mat visible just beyond. Homemade shelves. An old leather trunk. A window overlooking the goats.

  Iova moved to light the hearth, the hand holding the flint quivering a little. After a few tries without finding the spark, Rae spoke.

  “Do you have water for the kettle?”

  Iova startled, glancing from the flint, to the kettle, to the unlit hearth, and to Rae.

  “There’s a well. I’ll have to…”

  “You fetch the water then— if you know where it is. I can start the fire while you’re gone,”

  By the time Iova came back, Rae had a good fire going.

  “Do you have tea?” Rae asked.

  “In the cupboard,” Iova said, “the sh… The sha..? The lady who lives in the big house gave me some,”

  “The Shana?”

  “Master Ven’s sister,”

  Rae nodded, “That’s the Shana.”

  “Oh,” Iova said. He hesitated before asking, “Is a Shana a wife of a Shak?”

  “Not my wife, but yes. She’s my father’s widow.”

  Rae found the tea. He allowed Iova to prepare the pot, which he did much more confidently than he had started the fire.

  “So is the Shana something like an Empress? Or are there higher-ranked wives than her?”

  “Higher ranked?”

  “Your mother, perhaps?”

  “My mother was also Shana,”

  Did that mean she and Loavin Ashem were equal? Rae had always assumed so. What would the alternative be?

  “And is that the highest rank there is?”

  “What higher status could there possibly be? Other than the wife of the Shak?”

  “Well, for example, our Emperor had an Empress, consorts, concubines, serving ladies, official mistresses, unofficial-”

  “-Hold on!” Rae’s head was swimming. “How many wives?”

  “Including her majesty the Empress: four consorts,”

  “And there’s more on top of that?! How many?”

  “Nine concubines, and as four the rest… It’s difficult to know an exact count,”

  “Well…” Rae didn’t know what to say, “We do things quite differently. There was only my mother and the Ashem Shana, and certainly not at the same time!”

  “I had wondered as much, but didn’t have the chance to ask properly until now. I see now… I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Rae didn’t quite know what to say. He realised he had revealed a lot about himself, and learned almost nothing. Except for the outrageous marriage practices enjoyed among the plainspeople.

  He sipped his tea. He’d been so engrossed in the conversation that he almost let it go cold.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how it was you ended up here. Your arrival was quite extraordinary.”

  Iova sighed.

  “Of course, I’ll tell you everything.”

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  “Forgive me if I over-explain; I feel it’s best to start at the beginning.”

  Iova told Rae his story in jumbled fragments.

  “My mother was first a lady-in-waiting. For my early childhood, I was raised in a servant’s residence as an unacknowledged son. But my health was robust, and my father secretly favoured us. When I turned thirteen, my mother was promoted to a wife of the second rank.”

  He explained to Rae that this had granted him the status of a legal son, with full rights to inherit.

  He had been one of three legal sons, alongside one legal daughter, and a few other children of natural birth.

  “My two elder brothers were born of the principal wife. My sister had a different mother. After I was promoted, we all lived together, and I called the other mothers my aunties.”

  Rae could see how this kind of complicated setup could breed resentment. The plains-people… He’d thought they must have led pampered and easy lives, ploughing their neat rows of fields day in, day out… But behind the walls of their homes, familial conflict was always brewing.

  “My father passed suddenly. My inheritance was small, but I had been well educated. I expected that after the mourning period ended, my brother would grant me a stipend. I could take the exam to become an official at the court. If I failed, the priesthood would take me. I wouldn’t stand a chance with the military…”

  Iova’s shoulders were high. Bent forward, he hid his face in his hands.

  “That… didn’t happen?” Rae asked.

  Iova didn’t answer for a long time, and when he did, he kept his eyes pressed firmly shut.

  “What happened was… I don’t know. One minute, all was well. Next, the house— there were soldiers at my door. I could hear- I was in the garden. And I could tell something wasn’t right. I would have co-operated with them, if Amos hadn’t-“

  He failed to restrain a sob.

  “It’s all a blur now. But it was my brothers who sent them—them who ordered it. They must have thought…”

  “That you would try to steal their positions?”

  Iova nodded solemnly. Rae poured another cup of tea and pressed it into his hands.

  Maybe something stronger would do better, he thought.

  “One thing I don’t understand is why the military would get involved? If it was only a struggle for inheritance?”

  Iova grimaced, “My father… his position was… He was a commander. So, he had soldiers loyal to him. When he died, they became loyal to my brothers.”

  Are the imperial soldiers really so thuggish? Rae thought they were under the sole control of the Emperor...

  Rae felt there must be more to it than that, but was worried that if he asked more, Iova would start weeping.

  They chatted on light, airy topics for a while longer, but an oppressive awkwardness had overtaken them.

  Rae’s mind was drowning in painful memories of his own father. And that paralysing fear that a hypothetical half-brother had once instilled in him. Iova looked as soft and harmless as thistledown, as downtrodden as wildflowers. If baby Raefu had been a boy, could Rae have done something so…?

  Rae had already dismissed the idea as foolish, but when Iova suggested they share a jug of wine, he soon acquiesced.

  “The people here gifted it to me. But it’s a shame to drink alone. Do indulge me,”

  “Gladly,” Rae said. It had been some time since he’d last had liquor, save for the watered stuff used in ceremonies. He’d been separated from his oldest drinking partner, Gaori, for far too long. On top of that, he’d embarrassed himself when he was pining after Ven… It was better not to dwell on that.

  He would indulge moderately, and since he already had the person he fancied close by, he probably wouldn’t act a fool again.