Death and the Emperor

Book 2 Chapter XII: Attempted Murder

It was time for a strong-minded woman to take charge. Abdullah was quite glad that Sophie was one. -- Diana Wynne Jones, Castle in the Air

Zasordoth Palace, the year 2531

"Of course, your Majesty, we'll need plenty of decorations--"

"And if a quarter of the people who've accepted invitations actually arrive, we'll need to open another wing to accommodate them all--"

Qihadal suppressed the desire to put her fingers in her ears. She was Empress Consort, she reminded herself. That meant her duties primarily involved organising social events like this ball. She had better get used to it. Who knew how many similar events she would have to organise?

"Open the wing, then," she told the servant who had spoken of this. "And prepare as many rooms as you think we'll need."

The servant bowed and left. Qihadal suppressed a sigh and turned to the other servants demanding her attention. She wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep for a month, not argue about the details of a party.

~~~~

Kilan found that for once, he had remarkably little to do. He still had letters to read and answer, but the invitations to social events had decreased as the nobility prepared to attend the Year's End Ball. The High Council, thank the gods, had had their last meeting of the year and were now visiting their families. Qihadal was managing most of the preparations for the ball. Kilan didn't envy her that.

Death was conspicuous by her absence after the execution. At first Kilan didn't think too much about this. She often disappeared for weeks at a time. It was an unfortunate side effect of her having to collect souls all over the universe. But when months had gone by without a sign of her, he began to wonder if something was wrong.

The week of the ball arrived. So did crowds upon crowds of aristocrats. Kilan had no chance to think of Death -- or indeed to think at all -- until after most of the invitees had arrived. He and Qihadal were expected to greet them. The stares and whispers returned in full force until he felt like a scientific oddity to be gaped at and studied. It was a most unpleasant feeling.

Finally the steady stream of guests had tapered off. They were still lurking around somewhere, in their mansions in the city if they had them and in the palace itself if they didn't. But Kilan no longer had to go through the drama of being introduced to them.

Who would ever want to be Emperor? he thought two days before the ball, when a duel nearly broke out between two dukes over whose son was doing better at school. This thought was followed quickly by, I swear sometimes I'm the only person in the palace with a brain.

It was that night that Death finally deigned to reappear.

Kilan had just returned from a late meeting with his tailor about the outfit he would wear to the ball. Qihadal had gone to her rooms earlier, complaining of a headache. A servant had left Kilan's supper on the table in his rooms.

He had just sat down at the table when the room's temperature dropped. Before he could turn around, Death had grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Hey!" Kilan protested as she dragged him towards his wardrobe. "What are you doing?"

"The Iqui has sent an assassin to kill you," Death said shortly. "He'll attack tonight. Now hide in here!"

She yanked the wardrobe door open and pushed him through it. Kilan stumbled and almost fell. He grabbed one of his coats, almost pulling it off its hanger.