Snowblind {complete}

Dry - Message

After she recovered, Lanna plucked up the courage to get Frez to write a letter back to her village. She mentioned no one by name, not even her family; she'd resolved that she wouldn't write a personal correspondence until she could brush the characters on the page herself. That and use a messenger from the city rather than one from the palace.

The rains dried and the season turned again. The temperature climbed and the workshop became stifling. She and Frez alternated in pumping the bellows to keep cool air moving around the room. Even the Imperials suffered in the thick heat.

Chowa was inundated with requests for sun oil. The formula stopped the skin browning so the concubines could spend time in the gardens and not be concerned for their complexion. Those from the north told stories of dry heat and entire years without rain. They laughed at the Imperials melting in what they considered a comfortable temperature.

Lanna couldn't wait for the freeze. She would perhaps borrow the Ninth's pearl outfit and strut around the halls while the Imperials shivered.

As the heat increased, Lanna slept badly, and her sickness bothered her as a result. Chowa gave her doses of pain remover for the headaches, while Frez watched her closely and offered to take over some of her chores. Lanna felt too anxious and twitchy to relax. Work was better.

Almost to the solstice and a box of flowers arrived addressed to Li rather than Chowa with a tie of wisteria. Lanna almost screamed. Life was unfair.

If this was punishment for her speaking out of turn to the Emperor, she would offer an apology in a heartbeat, but he'd never asked for one. Why order her to him now? Was the boy bored?

The tie inside was large, the message complex. Lanna thought the Emperor could have written rather than sent a floral puzzle.

The foliage confused her – sprays of green points she'd never seen before.

'Asparagus,' Frez said. 'You eat the buds. The leaves serve little purpose and so are used in decoration.'

Asparagus leaves, thought Lanna. Fascination. The bold purple flowers twined around the green were easily identifiable. Delphinium – amusement. The last bloom she knew well, as it was often used by the Emperor. Wisteria.

So, Lanna mused. He's amused by me and quite fascinated by my behaviour. He also welcomes me to attend him.

'Balls,' she murmured to herself.

'He turns his attention to you at last,' Frez said gloomily. 'Probably because Chowa is in the city today.'

His blue gaze flicked to her. 'You'll need to keep your wits about you and be as uninteresting as you can if you're to slip beneath his notice again.'

Quietly fuming, Lanna stalked up the corridor, aware her brittle mood would make her vulnerable, but what else could she do? There could be no refusal.

The sword maidens opened the doors and ushered Lanna through to the Emperor's rooms. The Ninth wasn't the only one who appeared to dislike the cluttered grandeur and dark colours of the hall. The Emperor's rooms were spacious, airy and only had subtle hints of the wealth and power of their occupant.

He had a canopied bed, but the sheets were bleached cotton, rather than silk. Above the bed hung an exquisitely inked map of the known world before the wars, the place names written in the old language that few but Chowa could read. Lanna felt saddened her people had lost their writing system. It seemed neat and efficient. Few characters and simple shapes.

Her eyes flicked around the rest of the room. Shelves of manuscripts and scrolls filled the space adjacent to the bed. Warm toned floors complemented the light-coloured silk rugs, and drawings and ancient architectural designs covered the walls. Here and there were the exquisite pictures people had made before the wars. Tiny rectangles, but so precisely detailed they appeared to be a moment of reality, frozen. Not a brushstroke or pen mark could be seen in their composition, and even after hundreds of years, the colours remained bright.