Snowblind {complete}

Wet - Knowledge

The evening bled into night as Lanna watched the guards erect her tent. Much to her frustration, none of them would ever smile and greet her and loneliness raked its fingers over her gut. Did they think her unworthy? Or was this something to do with her rank? Could someone not just tell her? A quiet word to explain would be more than welcome. Instead, she stood there in silence and watched the men work while they ignored her presence.

Perhaps in the First City she would find others of her own rank to relate to. The idea still rankled, but Imperials took status seriously. Those below her couldn't be her friends.

The lush grass tickled the back of her legs, dewy tendrils still wet from yet another squall of rain that lifted the blanket of humidity for brief moments. The night air felt as thick as her ma's fish stew – and just as hard to swallow.

Lanna paused to look at the sky above. The nights of the south were stark and beautiful: just a spattering of stars and the orbs of the twin moons to illuminate the monochrome landscape. Here, just as the landscape was a riot of colour, so too was the sky. A myriad of stars competed with Franklin and Echo Charlie – scintillating blues, reds, yellows and even violet against the deep blue of the northern night sky. A song for the eyes.

Her hand lifted to touch the missing pendant at her neck but she forced it back to her side. She needed to concentrate on her new path. The echo of pain in her stomach reminded her why.

Chowa apparently had similar ideas. That evening Lanna found her normal lessons abandoned.

She entered the oppressive warmth of the tent, the luxurious but gloomy interior draining the wonder of the night from her, but frowned when she looked to the work table. Where were her knife and writing materials? Chowa knelt opposite and slipped her hands into her sleeves. Her sharp dark eyes raked over her assistant, ribbons of unpinned hair slipping over her shoulders.

'Kneel,' she ordered. 'Tonight, we talk.'

Lanna raised a brow but did as she was bid, ignoring the flutter of unease in her chest.

'You have made good progress,' Chowa said at last, voice measured and neutral. 'Yet you are naïve; the palace is not perfection. Those who serve the Emperor vie for his attention and the Emperor is young.' Chowa paused, as if choosing her words with care. 'He is a fair ruler, but he has much to learn and the circumstances behind his rise to power are... complex.'

'Complex?' Lanna echoed. She kept her tone even, though she itched with curiosity. Finally, some information on the place she would soon call home.

'You now understand more of your duty, and what you have endured proved your resilience. You will need this.' Chowa shifted on her knees and plucked at the black garment that shrouded her form.

Lanna dropped her gaze to her hands. Well, that was one way of looking at a useless forced termination. Typical Imperial mindset. Even a tragedy could be twisted into something that you gained strength from.

'The palace is the hub of our society. Our prosperity and cohesion as a nation depend upon strong leadership and consistency within that leadership. The Emperor is our leader and our light in an otherwise uncivilised world. He is all this, but he is also human. He can be swayed, as we can.' Chowa gave Lanna a pointed look, dark eyes severe. 'He bleeds as easily as we do and he has enemies within his own court.'

'You mean there's a risk of his assassination?' Lanna asked, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Chowa gave a bitter chuckle. 'That is a risk for every emperor. There are always those who feel they could gain more or run the country better if their own puppet were in charge.'