Death and the Emperor

Book 1 Chapter XII: ...Will Find You Out

Sentence first, verdict afterwards. -- Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

It was the cold that woke Kilan for the first time the next morning. At some point in the night, he thought dimly as he wrapped his arms around his chest, he must have kicked his quilt off him. He reached out, searching for it, and grasped something curiously like feathers. At the same moment he realised there was someone curled up against his back.

He sat up, abruptly wide awake, and gaped at the sight that met his eyes. Death lay beside him, fast asleep and with her ridiculous cape still fastened around her shoulders... and with his quilt wrapped around her.

This was partly his fault, he supposed. He had asked Death to stay. But he didn't recall asking her to steal his quilt!

He yanked it away from her grasp and pulled it around him. She hadn't even the decency to wake up.

When he next woke up, it was to someone shaking him.

"Your servants are approaching," Death informed him. "I will leave now, unless you wish them to find me here."

Kilan couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought. That was just what they needed: the Emperor's brother being caught in bed with a mysterious woman, at the same time as the Empress demanded a divorce. No one would believe him if he insisted nothing happened, and explaining who Death was would make matters immeasurably worse. The last thing they needed was yet another scandal.

Death leaned over and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. She was gone before he even realised what had happened.

He did his best to forget about it. It was of no importance, he told himself firmly. It was just another of Death's oddities.

But that didn't stop his lips tingling for the rest of the day, or his heart racing when he thought of the kiss.

~~~~

Death arrived in her realm to find some of her children were apparently holding a convention in her throne room. Insanity was sitting cross-legged on the floor, braiding tendrils of despair vine[1] into her hair. War and Starvation were grimly intent on a game of chess. Pestilence -- who, thanks be to all the gods, now looked more like a person and less like a fever dream -- was sprawled out in her throne and seemed to be sound asleep. Famine and Conquest were bickering over which of them had actually won the Battle of Yefefiah. And unless her eyes deceived her, Misery was skipping stones across the river.

"What is all this?" Death asked, befuddled. Had they organised a family reunion without telling her?

"Hello, Mother," Starvation said absently, not taking her eyes off War's bishop.

The others -- except Pestilence, who was dead to the world -- tore themselves away from their various amusements to nod affably at her.

"We've come to help prepare for the wedding," Conquest said.

If she had announced that they were there to overthrow Death and take her place, it might have been believable. This, on the other hand, was not. Death folded her arms and tapped her shoe against the floor, waiting for the punchline.

It didn't come.

Death raised an eyebrow. "Wedding? What wedding?"

"Your latest wedding," Pestilence said sleepily, without opening his eyes. "To... what's-his-name, the Caranilnav."

Death's other eyebrow joined its twin in trying to disappear into her hairline. "You're behind the times, children, and have got your facts badly wrong besides. Kilan and I have been half-married for over five months now."