Page 283 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

She retreated from the room.

Tané took in the ornate ceiling, the nightwood furniture. It was as if she were a rider again.

The City of the Thousand Flowers. Ancient capital of the Empire of the Twelve Lakes. Its palace was home not only to the honored Unceasing Emperor and the honored Grand Empress Dowager, but to the Imperial Dragon herself. The dragons of Seiiki looked to their eldest for guidance, but their Lacustrine cousins answered to one ruler.

Her thigh was throbbing. She pushed back the sheets and saw that it was bandaged.

She remembered the Seiikinese man, clad in robes of mulberry red. Another scholar who had run from his fate. He had called her the descendant of the long-honored Neporo.

Impossible, surely. Neporo had been a queen. Her descendants could hardly have ended up in a fishing village, scratching out a living in the farthest reaches of Seiiki.

The servant returned and set down a tray. Red tea, porridge, and boiled eggs with a helping of winter melon.

“I will have a bath filled for you.”

“Thank you,” Tané said.

She picked at the meal while she waited. The Unceasing Emperor would not have her as his guest for long when he found out what she was. A fugitive. A murderer.

“Good morning.”

Thim was in the doorway, clean-shaven, wearing Lacustrine clothing. He lowered himself into the chair beside her bed.

“The servant told me you were awake,” he said in Seiikinese.

His tone was cool. Even if they had worked together on the ship, she had still stolen it from his crew.

“As you see,” Tané said.

“I wanted to thank you,” he added, with a dip of his head, “for saving my life.”

“It was the great Nayimathun who saved you.” Tané put down her teacup. “Where is the Westerner, honorable Thim?”

“Lord Arteloth is in the Twilight Gardens. He wants to speak to you.”

“I will come when I am dressed.” She paused before saying, “Why did you sail with people from over the Abyss?”

Thim furrowed his brow.

“They are not only raised to hate fire-breathers, but our dragons,” Tané reminded him. “Knowing this, why would you sail with them?”

“Perhaps you should ask yourself a different question, honored Miduchi,” he said. “Would the world be any better if we were all the same?”

The door closed behind him. Tané reflected on his words and realized that she had no answer.

The servant soon returned to take her to the bath. With her assistance, Tané rose from her bed and limped into the next room.

“There are clothes in the closet,” the servant said. “Will you need help to dress, noble rider?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Very well. You are free to explore the palace grounds, though you must not enter the interior court. His Imperial Majesty desires your presence in the Hall of the Fallen Star tomorrow.”

With that, Tané was alone again. She stood in the shade of the bathing room and listened to the birdsong.

The bath was brimful with hot water. Tané slid her robe from her shoulders and unwrapped her thigh. If she craned her neck, she could see the stitches where someone had sealed the bullet graze. She would be fortunate to avoid a fever.

Bird skin stippled her arms as she lowered herself into the bath. She sluiced the salt out of her hair, then lay in the water, tired to her bones.

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