The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

I just listened. It was a useful, if appalling, education about my new kin, which was probably why Tvril had decided to tell me. He had also informed me of my new title, duties, and privileges, at least in brief. I was Yeine Arameri now, no longer Yeine Darr. I would have new lands to oversee and wealth beyond imagining. I would be expected to attend Consortium sessions regularly and sit in the Arameri private box when I did so. I would be permitted to dwell permanently in Sky in the welcoming bosom of my maternal relatives, and I would never see my homeland again.

It was hard not to dwell on that last bit, as Tvril continued.

Their elder brother was my fatheralso dead, thanks to his own efforts. He was fond of young women. Very young women. He made a face, though I had the sense hed told the story often enough that it didnt really trouble him. Unfortunately for him, my mother was just old enough to get with child. Dekarta executed him when her family took exception. He sighed and shrugged. We highbloods can get away with a great many things, but well, there are rules. We were the ones to establish a worldwide age of consent, after all. To ignore our own laws would be an offense to the Skyfather.

I wanted to ask why that mattered when Bright Itempas didnt seem to care what else the Arameri did, but I held my tongue. There had been a note of dry irony in Tvrils voice in any case; no comment was necessary.

With a brisk efficiency that would have made my no-nonsense grandmother jealous, Tvril had me measured for new clothing, scheduled for a visit to a stylist, and assigned quarters all in the span of an hour. Then came a brief tour, during which Tvril chattered endlessly as we walked through corridors lined with white mica or mother-of-pearl or whatever shining stuff the palace was made of.

I stopped listening to him at about this point. If I had paid attention, I probably could have gleaned valuable information about important players in the palace hierarchy, power struggles, juicy rumors, and more. But my mind was still in shock, trying to absorb too many new things at once. He was the least important of them, so I shut him out.

He must have noticed, though he didnt seem to mind. Finally we reached my new apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran along one wall, which afforded me a stunning view of the city and countryside belowfar, far below. I stared, my mouth hanging open in a way that would have earned me a scold from my mother, had she still been alive. We were so high that I couldnt even make out people on the streets below.

Tvril said something then that I simply did not digest, so he said it again. This time I looked at him. This, he said, pointing to his forehead. The half-moon mark.

What?

He repeated himself a third time, showing no sign of the exasperation he should have felt. We must see Viraine, so that he can apply the blood sigil to your brow. He should be free from court duty by now. Then you can rest for the evening.

Why?

He stared at me for a moment. Your mother did not tell you?

Tell me what?

Of the Enefadeh.

The Enewhat?

The look that crossed Tvrils face was somewhere between pity and dismay. Lady Kinneth didnt prepare you for this at all, did she? Before I could think of a response to that, he moved on. The Enefadeh are the reason we wear the blood sigils, Lady Yeine. No one may pass the night in Sky without one. It isnt safe.

I pulled my thoughts away from the strangeness of my new title. Why isnt it safe, Lord Tvril?

He winced. Just Tvril, please. Lord Dekarta has decreed that you are to receive a fullblood mark. You are of the Central Family. I am a mere halfblood.

I could not tell if I had missed important information, or if something had been left unsaid. Probably several somethings. Tvril. You must realize nothing youre saying makes any sense to me.

Perhaps not. He ran a hand over his hair; this was the first sign of discomfort hed shown. But an explanation would take too long. Theres less than an hour til sunset.

I supposed that this, too, was one of those rules the Arameri insisted on being sticklers for, though I could not imagine why. All right, but I frowned. What of my coachman? Hes waiting for me in the forecourt.

Waiting?

I didnt think Id be staying.

Tvrils jaw flexed, containing whatever honest reply he might have made. Instead he said, Ill have someone send him away and give him a bonus for his trouble. He wont be needed; we have plenty of servants here.

I had seen them throughout our toursilent, efficient figures bustling about Skys halls, clad all in white. An impractical color for people whose job it was to clean, I thought, but I didnt run the place.

That coachman traveled across this continent with me, I said. I was irked and trying not to show it. Hes tired and his horses are, too. Can he not be given a room for the night? Give him one of those marks and then let him leave in the morning. Thats only courteous.