The Winds of Tepr

Chapter 64

Silk drapes whisper as Naci steps into the antechamber, her companions trailing behind. The room is suffused with the perfume of sandalwood and rosewater, an opulent hush that suggests secrets clothed in finery. Shi Min stands to one side, composed but watchful. Across from her, Sima of the Western Bureau stands tall, fingers steepled together as if holding invisible cards.

Sima acknowledges their entrance with a slight incline of the head, though his gaze darts straight to Shi Min. "Governor, you've come prepared for the day's intrigues, I see." His voice, silken yet sharp, carries a note of reproach.

Shi Min offers a respectful nod. "Thank you for yesterday, Master Sima. I intended to inform you of the Khan's arrival," she says calmly, "but you had already departed."

Sima's eyes narrow just a fraction. "Indeed," he murmurs, tone clipped. "And now I find that everyone in the Imperial City awakens to the talk of this... Khan of Tepr." His gaze flicks to Naci, a mix of curiosity and dissatisfaction. "It seems news travels at hummingbird pace this morning."

Naci crosses her arms lightly, meeting his stare with measured calm. She doesn't give him the satisfaction of a bowed head or a flustered blush.

Shi Min clears her throat. "I wonder how word spread so quickly. Naci Khan and her companions arrived yesterday evening. No open announcements were made."

Sima lifts a shoulder in a faint shrug. "Ah, who can say?" He lets the silence hang for a beat before adding softly, "The Eastern Bureau does have a talent for turning whispers into songs."

Naci tilts her head, interested. The Eastern Bureau's name again. She files it away silently, saying nothing. Instead, she allows Sima to direct his full scrutiny upon her.

He smiles now, thin and polite. "Naci, is it? I've heard remarkable tales of your martial and tactical skills. They say you united most of your enemy tribes in a little more than a month." He raises an eyebrow, voice dripping with admiration.

Naci's eyes flash. "How generous of you to appreciate the skill of barbarians, but I was not alone in this achievement." she replies, her tone silk over steel.

The tension coils, but Naci's words hold their ground.

Sima's smile freezes, then reforms, sweet and faintly mocking. "Such modesty. Beauty and prowess in one person is a rare gift. The empire admires strength, even when it arrives from distant meadows."

Naci steps forward, just a fraction, forcing him to acknowledge her unyielding stare. "Strength knows no borders, Sima of the Western Bureau," she says evenly. "And I did not travel so far to become a trinket to amuse your court."

Sima's eyebrow twitches—a tiny sign of annoyance. Before he can retort, the sound of measured footsteps approaches. The Crown Prince appears at the entrance, his presence shifting the room's gravity as if moonlight has just entered at midday.

"Master Sima!" the Crown Prince calls warmly, opening his arms as if greeting an old friend. He glances between Naci and Sima, smile brightening with curious delight. "How kind of you to keep the Khan entertained. I trust your conversation was enlightening?"

Sima bows, forced to break eye contact with Naci. "Your Highness, I was merely... introducing our guest to the subtleties of Moukopl hospitality." His voice strains slightly, the tension not entirely dispelled.

The Crown Prince's laughter rings softly, genuine. "I'm sure Naci Khan appreciates our famed subtlety," he quips, winking at Naci. "But let us not wear thin her patience." He moves closer, standing between Sima and Naci, his posture easy and confident. "I've spoken with my father. The Emperor will grant an audience after breakfast."