“It’s from ‘The Song of the Stag’ by Ni Yul-Mahn,” said Mayu. “Do you remember how it ends?”
“I don’t recall. I’ve never had a taste for the new poets.”
A sad smile touched Mayu’s lips, and Nikolai wondered if she was thinking of Isaak, who had consumed poetry the way other men drank wine.
“It tells the story of a royal hunt,” she said. “A herd of deer are pursued through the woods and countryside by a relentless pack of hounds. Rather than let themselves be slaughtered by the pack, the deer hurl themselves off a cliffside.”
Ehri’s brow furrowed. “The Tavgharad killed themselves … because of a poem?”
“Because of a queen’s command.”
“And they tried to kill you too,” said Nikolai.
“Why?” Ehri said. She opened her mouth, closed it, trying to find some argument to make, some logic. In the end the same word escaped her. “Why?”
Nikolai sighed. He could say that Queen Makhi was ruthless, but she wasn’t any more ruthless than she’d had to be. “Because when I sent that invitation, I forced her hand. Queen Makhi doesn’t want us to marry. She doesn’t want a Ravkan-Shu alliance. Ask yourself this: If Mayu was sent to impersonate you, to murder me and herself, then why put you in harm’s way at all? Why not let you rest comfortably at home while Mayu Kir-Kaat did the dirty work?”
“I was meant to be here to help Mayu, to answer questions, coach her through matters only royalty could understand. Then when it was … over, I would return home.”
“Did your sister’s ministers know about the plot to assassinate me?” How coolly he spoke of his own death. He really was getting good at this. Is it the demon? he wondered. The constant proximity to the darkness of the void? Or was he just getting reckless?
Ehri made nervous folds in the sheets with her pink fingertips. “I … assume they did.”
He looked to Mayu, who shrugged and said, “It was not for me to ask.”
“My sister told me to keep silent,” Ehri said slowly, smoothing out the folds she’d just made. “She said … she said the people would not approve of her … of our plot.”
Nikolai had to respect that she didn’t try to lay full blame for the assassination attempt at her sister’s door.
“I should think not,” he said. “The people love you. They wouldn’t want you in danger.” He sat forward and clasped his hands. “She was counting on their love for you. If you had perished with the Tavgharad the other day, I would have no way to prove that they had died by their own hand or that you had been their victim. When your death became known, the Shu people would have risen up, demanding action, and Queen Makhi would have what she wants: an excuse for war.”
“The queen doesn’t know I’m alive, does she?” asked Mayu as realization struck.
“No, indeed.”
Mayu looked at Ehri. “We are the last witnesses. Only we know of the plot she formulated against the king. We have both been her pawns.”
Nikolai stood and began wheeling Mayu’s chair back toward the hall. But before they reached the door, Ehri said, “Mayu Kir-Kaat.” She was sitting up, her frame silhouetted against the glass, her back erect, her bearing every inch the princess. “I am sorry for what my sister asked of you … and for what I asked of you.”
Mayu looked up, startled. For a long moment they stared at each other, princess and commoner. Mayu bobbed her head. Nikolai didn’t know if it was a thank-you or just an acknowledgment.
“Why did you bring us together?” Mayu asked as he wheeled her down the corridor, past the guards.
“I like to keep all of my potential assassins in one room.” It wasn’t much of an answer. He knew he was taking a chance in allowing these women to speak, to find common ground. They had both been part of the plot to kill him. They were both responsible for Isaak’s death. They were both bound to the Shu throne through ties of tradition and blood. But Mayu’s voice meant more than Nikolai’s ever could. He decided to opt for the truth. “I’m not sure why. My gut told me it was right you should talk. I suppose I’m hoping you’ll help me keep my crown and keep our countries from going to war.”
They entered Mayu’s room. It had no windows, no view of the gardens. It was more like a prison cell.
“If Queen Makhi wants war, then that is what the Tavgharad want.”
“Are you so sure you’re still Tavgharad?” he asked.
That arrow struck its mark. Mayu looked at her lap and said, “You’re nothing like Isaak. If any of us had so much as glimpsed you before, we never would have been fooled by a pretender.”
“And if it had been me you met, your plot would have ended before it began. I never would have been deceived by a bodyguard in fancy gowns.”
“You’re so sure?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “But Isaak was trained to be a soldier, not a king.”
When Mayu looked up, her golden eyes were full of rage. “You are a glib, vain fool. You are everything Isaak was not.”
Nikolai held her gaze. “I would argue we were both fools.”
“He was a better man than you’ll ever be.”
“On that we can agree.” Nikolai sat down on the edge of her bed. “You fell in love with him.”
Mayu looked away. She was a soldier. She would not weep, but her voice was ragged when she spoke. “I thought I loved a king. I thought it could never be.”
“One of those things was true.” Did it help to know how much she regretted Isaak’s loss? That they both grieved for the sacrifice he’d made? Even if it did, he couldn’t spare her now. “Mayu, my spies have found word of your brother.”
Mayu covered her face with her hands. Nikolai remembered what Tolya and Tamar had told him about the kebben, about the bond between twins. He’d understood what this information would mean to her.
“He’s alive,” Nikolai said.
“I know. I would know if he was dead. I would feel it. Have they hurt him?”
“He’s a part of the khergud program.”
“Queen Makhi swore she would free him.” Mayu released a bitter laugh. “But why would she keep her word? I failed. The king lives.”
“Thank you for that.” Nikolai watched her carefully. “You’re thinking of taking your own life.”
Her expression showed the truth of it. “I am a prisoner in a foreign country. Your Grisha keep my body weak. My brother is having his soul tortured out of him and I can do nothing to stop it.” She cast her eyes up to the ceiling. “And I murdered an innocent man, a good man, for nothing. I am not Tavgharad. I am not a princess. I am not anyone.”
“You are Reyem Yul-Kaat’s sister, and he still lives.”
“But as what? The khergud … The things they endure, they lose their humanity.”
Nikolai thought of the demon lurking inside him, the power of it. “Maybe the gift of being human is that we do not give up—even when all hope is lost.”
“Then maybe I’m the one who isn’t human anymore.” A grim thought, but her look was speculative when she asked, “Will you force Princess Ehri to wed you?”