Tamar tapped her axes. “That only means you’re a survivor, Princess. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ehri put her fingers to the strings. “Very well. Let’s begin.”
She descended the temple steps into the morning market. Instantly the shoppers left off their haggling to marvel at the sight of Ehri Kir-Taban, Daughter of Heaven, returned to them. Mayu knew this was not the first time the princess had played at the temple fields, but she was meant to be off in Ravka, courting and marrying a Ravkan king.
The princess glided through the marketplace in her leaf-green silks, her hair drawn back, a chrysanthemum tucked behind her left ear. She played her music and the people followed, pulling their children along with them, clapping and dancing. The song Ehri chose was no coincidence: “The Flower Maiden.” She is the sun, and springtime has returned.
As they entered the city, people emerged from their homes with bells and drums in hand to play along. They cast flowers into her path.
“They really do love her,” said Tamar in wonder.
“We heard you went to meet the barbarians!” someone cried.
“We thought you were to be wife to the Scarred King!”
“But you see I am back and unwed and just happy to be among you,” said Ehri, and the people cheered.
Over the bridge they paraded and Ehri struck up a new song, one triumphant and patriotic, a Shu soldiers’ anthem. A fighting song.
Queen Makhi was waiting for them on the wide palace balcony that overlooked the river.
“Sister!” she called, her arms open. “How like you to arrive in such fine style.”
No one who wasn’t watching closely would have noticed the way the queen’s teeth were bared, the way her eyes slid to Mayu and then back to Ehri.
“Are we not glad to see our sister returned?” Makhi demanded of the crowd, and the people cheered in reply. “Are we not grateful for her safety and good health? Then let this be a day of feasts and celebration!” Makhi clapped her hands and the square was flooded with royal servants handing out currant cakes and little bags of golden coins.
Mayu studied the queen’s face, the brittle smile, the hands spread wide in a gesture of beneficence.
She wants to be loved, Mayu realized. Just as I did. She can’t understand why her sister is favored when she is smarter, stronger, more lovely. She will spend a lifetime trying to unravel this mystery, sure there’s some secret she can uncover, offering her subjects bribes of money and sweets to show her generosity. Queen Makhi had tried to murder Ehri, not once but twice, rather than live forever in her shadow. She might have a sister’s envy, but she did not have a sister’s love.
As soon as they entered the palace, they were surrounded by guards. Minister Yerwei, the queen’s doctor, came forward to greet them.
“Princess Ehri, are you well? We must have you examined and prescribe the proper tonics to restore your vitality after such a long trip.”
“I thank you, Minister Yerwei. But I am in good health. I have been well fed and looked after by our Ravkan friends.”
“Where are the rest of your Tavgharad guard?”
“I would give my answers to my sister,” Ehri said serenely.
“She will receive you in the audience chamber.”
Minister Zihun cleared her throat. “I’m afraid the chamber is under repair. May I suggest the Court of the Feathered Bower?”
“But I was just in the chamber—” Yerwei protested.
“There was a flood.”
“A flood?”
“A small flood by one of the fountains,” added Minister Nagh. “The workers are still inside.”
Mayu hid her relief. Maybe Nagh and Zihun had always planned to keep their promises to Ehri. Maybe they had been swayed by the sight of a city following her through the streets. It didn’t matter. They’d done their part. Ehri and Tamar needed to speak to the queen privately, not in front of her ministers and not in a place where she could look down on them cloaked in the power of a thousand years of Taban queens.
“I see,” murmured Minister Yerwei. There was nothing else for him to say.
* * *
The Court of the Feathered Bower was all soft white and gold, like the glow of clouds in the hour before dusk. It suited Ehri well, softening the angles of her face. Servants brought them glass ewers of wine and water, a plate of sliced red plums. But they scattered when the doors burst open and Makhi strode in, flanked by her Tavgharad.
“You dare summon me like some kind of serving girl?”