“They said you were near death!” said the princess.
“No,” Mayu whispered. She had been kept under restraint, and the Grisha Healers had not allowed her to return to full health. She was simply too much of a threat. Mayu Kir-Kaat had tried to kill the king, and the women of the Tavgharad were some of the best-trained soldiers in the world.
“Last night, I showed Mayu the letter your sister sent,” said Nikolai.
“It’s just a letter! An answer to an invitation!”
Nikolai settled back into his chair and gestured for Mayu to speak.
“I recognized the poem she quoted.”
“‘Let them be as deer freed from the hunt,’” said Ehri. “I remember one of my tutors taught it.”
“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.”