Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

61

Aun's word proved good: within two days, Empress Mhera was walking about, and within the week, she returned to her duties in her full capacity.

Mhera was seated in the dining room, having her morning tea. Matei had left the palace early to discuss some matters with Uachi and Captain Alban related to their peace-keeping initiatives for the border between Penrua and Narr. Mhera had volunteered to start that morning's combined council without him, a task she did not relish—but it was fair, since he had managed things on his own while she recuperated.

A movement at the door drew her attention, and she looked up to see Kaori crossing toward the dining table. When he caught her eye, he nodded. "A pleasant day to you, Mhera."

She smiled at him. Ever since Aun had released him from her care, Kaori had seemed almost himself. He had always been mild and reserved, more taken with books than with games and sword-play; perhaps he was quieter and more pensive now than he'd been as a younger man, but she was pleased that the changes in his body had not wrought too much of a change in his mind. "Good morning. Try the egg pie, Kaori. It's very good."

He chose a seat not far from her, and she looked away as he served himself. Once upon a time, there had been servants at hand for every meal to serve the food, but since the revolution, neither Matei nor Mhera had been keen to fill the palace with servants to wait on their every whim. They had focused on the most important things—the kitchen, the laundry, the grounds—and had not missed the maidservants or dining hall attendants. Mhera had hands and the sense to wield a knife, after all, and so did Matei; there was nothing too difficult about slicing a pie of a morning.

But Kaori's right hand had been his stronger one, and Mhera, uncertain of his private feelings, tried to give him what privacy she could as he learned to navigate a world using the weaker one. When he cut the egg pie and flipped the slice onto his plate, a few crumbs scattered across the table. He licked his thumb to gather them up, catching Mhera's furtive glance and quickly breaking eye contact.

"It's over, by the way," Kaori said, reaching for his fork.

Confused, Mhera set down her tea cup. "What is?"

An amused smile lifting the corner of his mouth as he caught her eye again. "Only the minor issue of your near-assassination, Your Grace."

Shock tightened her chest. "Oh."

"I shouldn't joke about it," he muttered, slicing into the pie with the edge of his fork. Such a gesture would be terribly unrefined at any noble table, but Kaori couldn't use both a knife and fork at once, and Mhera's attention to such foolish details as the proper use of silverware had long been lapsed. "I think sometimes that I must joke about these trials or go mad."

"Joke, then," Mhera said. "It's behind us—or, at least, the danger of it is. Tell me, what has happened?"

"You know we imprisoned three of the palace guard after the incident, all of them Starborn. Well, one of them confessed, eager for clemency. They did not act alone, as we suspected. They were contracted."

"Contracted?" Mhera breathed. "By whom?"

"A complement of men, armed to the teeth, are on their way to Lord Telach's manse now. He allied himself with an outcast zealot from the priesthood, and together they hatched the plot, buying the loyalty of the three palace guards with gold. If he told us true, the plans have been in the makings for months—since before your coronation—but they waited, seeking the perfect moment. It must have taken some doing for them to place the right men at the right stations to allow entry for the assassins. Don't look so frightened, Mhera; we've stamped the snake's head. It's over."