Page 76 of The Poet Empress
Maro bit his lip. “But he would not harmme. Trust me on this.” Nobody here knew Terren as deeply as he did. They did not know that Terren, not Doctor Shu, had been the one to evict Maro from his missions. And he claimed he had done it only to protect him.
Everyone in the room exchanged doubtful glances.
“If that is what you believe, you have not grown as much as I have hoped.” Master Ganji’s frown had only become more uncompromising over the years. “Maro, have I not warned you long ago that you are all that stands between him and the Crown?Brother betrays brother; blood forgets blood.All you need to do to find an example is look to your father, who—”
“With all due respect, Master Ganji, Terren is not our father.” Maro was tired of the constant comparisons to those who had come before. “And neither am I.”
It was a long walk to the East Palace, which was frightfully cold and decorated like a night-story. More swords than in all of the palace’s armories put together bit into the air like icicles. Maro shivered as he entered, alone.
In its main hall, down many austere pillars, Terren sat high on a throne of lilies and blades. At his left stood Master Long, one of his longtime tutors; at his right was the eunuch An Sui. A dozen guards and armed personnel surrounded him.
“Brother,” Maro said hesitantly. “It’s me.”
Terren did not look at him or speak. He kept his eyes only on the three dozen live doves in front of him, their pink feet tied to the branches of a fig tree growing out of the dais.
“You desire power. You desire my throne. That is… that is understandable.”Maybe you should want it too,Maro had said in anger, all those years ago. Part of this, he knew, was his own fault. “But Terren, I beg of you, fightme.Onlyme. Don’t drag the innocent into this. The animals, the civilians, the servants—leave them all alone.”
Your veins are Tensha’s flowing rivers, your beating heart its capital, your flesh its mountains and fertile valleys.Three years in the temple, while this was what had befallen the nation. How had Maro failed it once again?
Silence. Terren still did not look at him.
“Talk to me!” Maro cried in desperation. “Don’t play at being stupid! I know you can understand every word I’m saying—”
The?/Dao sigil flashed. A knife floated down from the ceiling, stabbed straight through a dove’s back, and came out the other end. Bird and knife sailed through the air to thump at Maro’s feet.
For a moment, Maro couldn’t even speak. Then his astonishment turned into hot fury. “Are you mad? How can you disgrace the ground our Ancestors live in like this? Behave so shamefully? You are a prince of Tensha, not a monster! I will not believe it, no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise!”
Thump.Another skewered bird landed near him, white feathers drenched with red blood.
“What happened to you in Tieza?” Maro whispered, his voice breaking. “Did you finally taste power, after obtaining your Dao seal, and you liked using it so much you couldn’t stop? Did you finally feel strong, after years of feeling weak? Did you finally realize you could make others afraid, after years of being afraid yourself?”
Three more dead doves landed at his feet.
Panic and desperation pulsed against Maro’s skull, making it hard to think straight. “Thenwhy?” he choked out. “Is it… is it because I hit you?”
This time, a storm of knives. Flying down from the ceiling, running themselves through the rest of the birds. A moment later, Maro was pummeled with bloody feathers, wet entrails, lifeless beaks. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“Our prince is no longer in the mood for conversation,” said An Sui, “and suggests you take your leave.”
“My brother can speak for himself,” Maro snapped.
“Our prince suggests you take your leave,” the eunuch said, a little louder.
“I’m not leaving. Terren,talk to me.”
They had no authority to remove him, since he was the first son and heir. But, Maro realized with cold horror, they did have the authority to remove his brother. The eunuchs leaned in and whispered something to one another. A few moments later, guards stepped up to the dais and escorted Terren away, leaving Maro standing in the empty hall, ten thousand blades pointing straight down at his head.
It was much harder to get an audience with Terren after that. Whenever Maro went to the East Palace, he was always turned away with some excuse or another.
Our prince is away in the capital.
Our prince is in an important meeting.
Our prince is sick and resting.
The letters he sent were received but never replied to. Maro had no idea if it was Terren or his advisors denying him—or both.
43LINGERING ATTACHMENTS
