Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

5

Mhera did not wish to tell anyone else her secret story. Gella, to judge from her unwillingness to discuss what had passed in the hallway, had already forgotten the incident, and the girl had begun to feel that she had done something wrong in witnessing the furtive burial. But that night, Mhera's unusually sullen mood did not go unnoticed.

Koreti cornered Mhera after supper ended. He followed her into the hallway and took her hand discreetly as Madam Gella stopped to pass pleasantries with the empress. Rather than go with his brothers, who were headed to the wing of the palace where their chambers lay, he led Mhera into a connecting hall and pulled her into a small alcove.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Mhera knit her brow. "Nothing."

"Liar." Koreti took Mhera's chin and tipped her face up. The light of the first moon, soft blue, filtered in through the patterned window and sparkled in his eyes. "You're sad. Tell me."

In a sudden rush, Mhera said, "I don't have to tell you anything. You don't have to know everything!"

As soon as she had said the words, she regretted them. They sounded angry, but she wasn't angry. She just did not want Koreti to know what had happened in the garden. If he were to find out, he might feel like she felt now: sick, heartsore, confused.

"Yes, I do. Because I'm your friend, and your cousin, and because I'm older than you. And ..." Here, Koreti paused for dramatic effect, but his smile betrayed that he was teasing Mhera, trying to draw out what was bothering her. "... Because I'm a prince. That means you have to do what I say. And I want you to tell me why you're crying."

Mhera sniffed and hid her face in the crook of her arm. The tears came without her permission. "I saw something bad, Kore. Something horrible. I don't want to tell you."

The prince waited. Usually, Mhera would have broken and told him everything. They were close, and she kept no secrets from him. But this time, she did not break.

At length, Koreti sighed and put his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "Okay."

"I don't want to. Please."

"Okay, Mher. Okay."

They stood there in silence for a while in the beam of the first moon, and Mhera cried, dampening his tunic with her tears. Koreti only held her and did not press her for the secret. Before long, Mhera heard Madam Gella calling her name. She left Koreti abruptly, without saying good night; she was too focused on scrubbing her cheeks with her sleeves.

Later, though, Mhera could not sleep. She wandered the halls in her white nightdress, passing in and out of the pools of light cast by the dimmed spirit globes. She went barefoot, walking so softly that a servant busy sweeping one of the long, gleaming hallways did not even notice her pass him by.

But the emperor was wakeful, too. When Korvan saw Mhera pad past the open door of his council chamber, he called out. "Little dove."

Mhera had drifted past the door, out of sight, but at his call her face appeared again, a silver coin at the bottom of a dark pool. "Uncle? Why are you awake?"

The emperor smiled at the child. "I think that is a question I should ask you, my dear. I am grown up and have work that must be done, regardless of the hour. You are only small and should be sleeping, yet you're wandering the halls—where are your slippers?"

Mhera looked down at her bare feet as if surprised to see them naked. "My feet are cold," she said plaintively.

Korvan was not typically a patient man. He had no time for weakness and less time for tears. With his own three sons, he was strict and brisk. He must have loved them, but he did not express his affection and seldom showed interest in anything but their accomplishments. His perspective seemed to be that coddling the princes would be fatal to their development into leaders of men. What warmth and affection the princes received came from their mother.