Shae hugged Tia and kissed Woon goodbye, issuing half a dozen reminders that her husband accepted with the same discerning patience with which he’d once handled the Weather Man’s affairs on Ship Street and in Wisdom Hall. Watching them, Wen was struck with nostalgia and sadness. Her own children were grown; even Jaya had left home. Hilo had reluctantly agreed to send their daughter to Toshon, in the far south of the country, where she could get out from under the spotlight of being the Pillar’s daughter and be given room to prove her prowess as a Green Bone. A long time ago, Wen had secretly hoped to one day have the kind of idyllic motherdaughter relationship that included womanly pastimes such as going to brunch and the spa, shopping, talking on the phone every day. Jaya only called when she needed something, usually her father’s advice on dealing with some issue. Wen was begrudgingly proud of her daughter, but she regretted not being able to relate to Jaya any more than Shae could fully comprehend Tia.
Although she didn’t say it as much as she ought to, Wen was proud of Ru as well, who by all accounts was doing well in college. She’d worried so much about her son when he was young, fearing he would be dismissed and disrespected, saddled by stigma, left with no meaningful prospects—the destiny she surely would’ve faced were it not for marrying Hilo. But Ru had grown up far differently than she had. He was full of big ideas and confidence, perhaps too much of both. “He talks enough to become the chancellor of the country. Then we’ll have gold and jade together in one family,” Hilo said jokingly, though sometimes Wen thought he might believe it.
As for Niko . . . Wen’s heart ached every time she thought of him. With her eldest, she felt she’d failed as a mother. She’d convinced Hilo to bring him back to Janloon as a baby, she’d raised and loved him as her own son, believing with utmost certainty that he was a fated gift, the gods’ compensation for Ru inheriting her deficiency. Yet he’d hated the weight of that expectation, had run away from it and taken the family’s hopes with him. Now Wen didn’t even know where he was. Perhaps Hilo did. She knew her husband had people watching Niko, reporting on his whereabouts, but out of consideration, he didn’t volunteer the information to her unless she asked. She did not ask.
During the three-and-a-half-hour flight, Wen and Shae studied a travel magazine and made plans to go to a Shotarian bathhouse and to see a musical at the world famous Leyolo City opera house. It had been some time since the two of them had had the opportunity to spend time together without the immediate demands of family. Wen could see her sister-in-law’s excitement growing, and when breakfast was served in the business-class cabin, Shae asked Wen, with an uncharacteristically sly grin, “It’s not too early in the morning to have a cocktail, is it?”
“Shaejen,” Wen exclaimed, “I would never gainsay the Weather Man’s judgment.” The flight attendant mixed them slender glasses of lychee juice and sparkling wine.
“We’ll have to make dinner reservations for tonight, like normal people,” Shae added with bright anticipation. Even the fact that they could not expect to show up and be given priority was a novelty to look forward to, one that made the trip seem like an adventure.
They were not alone, of course; Wen’s two longtime bodyguards, Dudo and Tako, were sitting nearby and would accompany Wen wherever she went. The two former Fists were like extended family members to her. She’d gotten to know them well over the years, had met their spouses and children. The men had become adept at blending into any event that Wen attended, from clan gatherings to public appearances and charitable functions.
At times, Wen’s days were as busy as her husband’s, although she tried not to overschedule herself. She needed to bear in mind her own physical limitations, and her first responsibility was always to support the Pillar. No other Green Bone leader had ever made the questionable choice to appoint his own wife as Pillarman. Wen knew the clan’s lukewarm acceptance of her unusually elevated position depended on her striking the delicate balance of being active without overstepping. She embraced a visible role as wife and hostess, promoted causes such as the arts and the environment, and raised awareness of nonreactivity and disability. She was careful never to speak publicly about clan affairs nor to draw attention to herself in any way that might detract from Hilo’s authority.
Only privately within the family did she discuss the important issues facing No Peak. “Has the Leyolo City office had any trouble from the Mountain or their barukan allies?” she asked Shae.