All six beamed at me, surprise and joy unraveling their ceremonial formality. Even Reiji, who knelt in the center of the temple beside a painting of Princess Sina Anan, his future wife, offered a nod.

I risked a glance at Father, daring hope he might acknowledge me too. But the emperor did as the A’landans did. With a clipped motion, he turned back to face the high priest.

Disappointment rose up to my eyes in a scalding wave, and I bit the inside of my cheek, shrinking into a corner to wait until the ceremony was over. Unfortunately, Kiki’s gauge of human emotion was sorely lacking, and she didn’t sense to leave me alone.

I thought your brother was marrying an A’landan princess, tittered my bird. All I see is a piece of parchment.

I shrugged.

Who’s that girl beside Andahai? She looked nervous to see you.

Did she? I’d been so happy to see my family that I had barely noticed her. With oval eyes and berry-colored lips, she looked as delicate as the lilacs embroidered on her lavender jacket. Her hands were demurely set on her lap, and if her ornate robes caused her any discomfort, she was a master of hiding it. She possessed the poise my tutors had long since given up trying to instill in me.

“Yihei’an Qinnia,” I said. “Andahai’s fiancée.”

Andahai was supposed to have married her last autumn, mere weeks after Raikama had turned my brothers into cranes and sent us all away. Obviously, that wedding had been postponed.

I watched my brother and his betrothed. Their heads were tilted close, shoulders touching. This tender side of Andahai was new to me. Then again, I had been away for half a year.

Much had changed.

Including Father.

He’d aged during the time I’d been away. There were new lines on his brow, etched with a melancholy that hadn’t been there before.

I ached to see him, to speak to him and make him smile, but not once did he glance back at me. With every passing minute, my heart sank a little deeper. I hoped he wasn’t furious I had left—or disappointed.

Finally, a gong resonated across the hall, and my brothers scrambled back to join me, barraging me with an unprincely slew of hugs and questions.

Wandei, the concerned: “When did you get back, sister?”

Andahai, the eldest: “You should have told us you were coming back.”

Benkai, the thoughtful: “You look well.”

Hasho, the sincere: “You look different.”

Yotan, already focused on the irrelevant: “But what are you wearing?”

There were other queries in my brothers’ eyes too, secret ones concerning magic and Ai’long. But no one spoke them aloud. There’d be time for those questions later.

I peeked back at the A’landans and the ministers in the room. Polite smiles strained their expressions, similar to those of the sentinels at the beach when they’d first seen me.

“Did I sprout horns on my head while in Ai’long?” I murmured to Benkai. “Why is everyone staring?”

Benkai’s handsome face stretched to fit a smile. “You did just barge in on a state wedding, you know—after we told the A’landans you were in Gaijha, studying the Songs of Sorrow and the Epics of War and Duty.”

I balked. “You should have told them I was studying cookery. At least that would be somewhat believable.”

Benkai chuckled, and my other brothers merely smiled. Hasho, who had always been the worst at secrets, shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking uneasy. What weren’t they telling me?

“Late as usual, Shiori,” Andahai chided, but his stern eyes were smiling for once. “We expected you back months ago. You missed my wedding, but at least you didn’t miss Reiji’s.”

I should have guessed that Andahai had married while I was away, but still my mouth parted in surprise. “You’re married?”

“It was a small ceremony, within the one hundred days of Raikama’s death.” He pursed his lips. “I wanted to wait, but…but we didn’t know when you were coming back.”

Even without the explanation, I would have understood. I hadn’t known when I’d return, either. And from the looks of it, Father needed all the alliances he could get to protect Kiata.