Chapter 41
Nina had become accustomed to her routine. A tray of food and tea would arrive in the morning, sometimes with the empress,
sometimes not, and then Kasik would escort her to Master Wara’s, where he would flutter nervously around the room and explain
to her the useless history of Vira and the emperors who have ruled it. He did not tell her any more cryptic stories, and she
did not ask for them.
Sometimes, Kunay Atik would show up unannounced and watch her learn. Always, he would place a hand on her shoulder so that
the touch of his power never left her. She was a shadow of the girl who had been so determined and optimistic in the Tuta
Kulla, and her attay was a distant memory.
That morning, Empress Chaska found her in bed and forced her out. “Up, up, plans have changed,” she said, her voice bright
enough that Nina shrunk away from it. Chaska threw her slippers at her and then dragged Nina through the halls, her guard
following close behind. Nina was too tired and hollow to ask questions, and she knew Chaska would not answer them, anyway.
The bathhouse was empty when they arrived. Nina undressed and gladly followed Chaska into the water with every intention of
sinking to the bottom until all her thoughts were clouded with pressure. But Chaska grabbed her arm and tugged her up. “We
don’t have time for that,” she said, shooting a glance behind her. “The ceremony has been moved up. You’re to marry the emperor
in three days’ time.”
At that, Nina straightened. “But Kasik said—”
“Kasik didn’t know until this morning. Listen to me very carefully.
” Somewhere in the bathhouse, a reed door opened and closed.
Quiet voices filtered in through the fog.
“The performances during the day are for the citizens of Vira, and the emperor will not join until the grand feast begins. Only then will the doors of Amaru Kancha open. There will be many people and much commotion. It will be easy for things to get out of hand.”
The words were nonchalant. Chaska did not look at her as she said them, and her hand gently ran over the surface of the water,
sending small waves of ripples that lapped Nina’s skin.
“You should be prepared,” she calmly added, “in the event that we must make a quick escape. Wear something warm, and perhaps
find a blade to hide under your dress. Most everyone will be wearing achillas, but a stone can’t protect you from the cold,
or falling rocks, or a knife in the throat.” Chaska shrugged innocently. “You never know when you might need to defend yourself.”
Then she stood and stepped out of the tub. Once wrapped in a drying cloth, she turned to Nina again. “The walla are occupied
today, so an attendant will escort you to the seamstress where they will fit you for your ceremony dress. Be sure to ask for
a coat while you’re there. And Nina,” she said, forcing Nina to meet her shrewd stare. “Remember what I said. No one is safe
so long as one of us is threatened.”
It was clear that Chaska had something planned and wanted Nina to join the fight, but the emperor was not a force they could
fight against, not with every strength at his disposal and the gods at his back.
Leaving was rational, not cowardly.
It was what she told herself as the seamstress and attendants tugged a crimson dress down her body and then stepped back to marvel at it.
The room was large and brightly lit, with changing screens blocking off one corner, tables full of textiles and tools across from it, and a dais in the middle, which she stood upon.
Directly in front of her was a large piece of reflective glass like nothing she had seen before.
Nina saw her dark eyes that reminded her of the soil of her family’s fields, and her long hair that escaped from its plait,
and her brown skin that had lost some of its richness from being behind stone walls for so many weeks. The red of the dress
was a stark contrast against her skin. Garish, almost. If she squinted, it looked like she was swathed in blood.
It was a dress fit for killing an emperor. Her power flickered in her chest at the thought, and she pressed a hand to it in
surprise. It had been a week since she felt it, and only one day since Kunay Atik had last touched her. If she could, she
would shred his soul apart with her bare hands. She would—
Nina gasped, pieces of stories and truths falling into place like the click of a latch. There was something in Master Wara’s
story that he had gotten wrong. Something that would change everything. She had to tell him.
But first, she waited for the seamstress to finish her final alterations and then changed back into her clothes. The seamstress
gave the dress to the attendant who had accompanied Nina with strict instruction to not let it drag on the ground. Nina didn’t
offer to help. Instead, she took advantage of the opportunity.
“I need to see Master Wara,” Nina told the woman.
The attendant shifted the bundle higher in her arms. “I was told to escort you to the seamstress and back. Nowhere else. I
cannot disobey the emperor.”
Nina was compelled to step forward and place a hand on the woman’s arm.
There was a vibration in the tips of her fingers.
A slight tingle that made her heart race.
The attendant glanced at her hand, then back at Nina with a crease between her brow.
“It’ll just take a moment. You won’t even notice I’m gone. ”
The woman’s usually stony face softened into a daze, and then she sighed. “Just a moment,” she agreed.
Without taking a breath to think about what she had just done, Nina turned and sped toward the scholar’s wing. The cold of
the hall crawled up her arms and into her chest, replacing the burning sensation that had come with that small touch and simple
command. Nerves fluttered in her belly.
Nina easily found Master Wara’s door. The kancha was no longer a mystery to navigate. She knocked and waited.
There was no sound from the other side. Nina knocked again, but the unnatural quiet continued, her quick breaths the only
noise to be heard. She glanced both ways down the hall, then pressed the latch. The door opened easily, creaking as it revealed
the room beyond.
Master Wara’s space had always looked like controlled chaos. She might not have known where anything was, but she was certain
that he did. What she found now was not his mess.
Quipu were strewn across the floor, their strands tangled, their knots undone. The two chairs that Nina and Master Wara typically
sat in were overturned, and on the corner of the table were splashes of something dark. Blood? Nina stepped closer and ran her finger through a spot. It smeared across the stone like paint.
Heart thundering, Nina slowly backed out of the room, careful to leave everything just the way it was. Her mind raced as she
hurried away, and the disquiet of her soul warned that fate would have her next.