The Diplomat (47 page)

“You held me. You promised to protect me. You told me to trust you. Yes, I remember. And I never did stop trusting you.”

“You’re sick, Ormun. Sick in a way that no healer can cure. The first time I caught you holding some poor girl against a wall, I didn’t recognize you at all. There was a stranger wearing your face.”

“I don’t remember it too well. But I recall you were furious. You struck me about the shoulders with your little hands. I wept and told you I didn’t know why I’d done it.”

“After a time, you stopped weeping. You became colder, harder. You hurt others more often. You began to hurt me. When you killed your father, whom I loved as if he were my own, I realized you were lost. I’d look into your eyes hoping to see that old warmth, and I’d find nothing but your coldness.”

“I remember it, but understand nothing.” Ormun shook his head. “It’s all so many words to me. These memories and feelings are like phantoms. They no longer have sense in them.”

So he was still lost to her, even now, even with the smoke and heat rolling in to consume them both. “I’ve had many chances to put a knife in your back,” said Rema, “yet even when you threatened to destroy the woman I love, I couldn’t put the blade all the way in. I’ve clung so long to the belief that he’s in you somewhere, the frightened boy who held me on my birthday and cried.”

“I don’t want to die,” said Ormun in a voice thickened by emotion. “Don’t leave me, Rema.”

Rema released his hand and stood. “You died years ago. I loved you once, but now I have to let you go. I’m sorry it ended this way, brother.” She brushed away a tear before it could fall. “I always thought you might somehow get better.”

“I know what you’re hoping for. That I’ll say something to redeem myself. That I’ll tell you to go off and love that woman. That I’m sorry for my wicked ways.” Ormun grimaced. “None of that makes sense to me. But know this, Rema. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. Why did I hurt you? How could I hurt you? My beautiful sister. How you laughed as you held that golden bird.” He groaned and tugged at his leg. “Rema, help me. I don’t want to die. I command you to free me. I am your Emperor! I command you…”

She left Ormun to the flames. As she descended the stairs, a cacophony of destruction erupted behind her. Their shared suffering was over.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Rema emerged from the lobby into a circle of frightened faces. People hurried toward her, touching her and offering her water. Elise pushed through the crowd and embraced her, and Rema pressed her cheek to Elise’s shoulder as she wept tears she had long forgotten she held.

“He’s dead,” she said. “I gave up on him. I broke my promise. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Those in earshot talked quickly and in consternation. “Ormun is dead?” said Artunos. “Are you sure?”

“He was caught in debris on the second floor. I heard the ceiling give in.”

Flames surged in triumph from the windows of the college’s upper two stories, and the building groaned as more of its body gave way beneath the gnawing heat. Artunos gestured for the crowd to step further back. “I can’t send someone in there. Not even for the Emperor.”

“You’ve killed my brother!” Betany passed through the ring of onlookers and dragged Rema out of Elise’s arms. “You lured him in there!”

“And who lured me?” said Rema, breaking free from Betany’s grip. “Don’t you dare blame me for this. For all I know, you expected him to follow me.”

“If you mean to implicate me, then you have no evidence. But there’s more than enough to prove that you and this witch have violated sacred laws of marriage. Everyone here has witnessed your tawdry embrace.”

Haran moved to her side and cleared his throat. “It is true. Whatever wrongdoing has happened here, Remela is at the heart of it.”

“Oh, spare me,” said Ferruro, pushing aside a flock of junior diplomats as he stepped forward. “For her heroics, you want to reward her with a noose? Cynical I may be, but unlike you, Haran, I have a little blood left in my veins. Perhaps when the healers have finished taking care of the little singer, we should ask who trapped her inside the building.”

“Remela’s slut would say anything her mistress told her to.” Betany tightened her lips and cast a cold stare at Ferruro. “You disappoint me, treasurer. I may need to reconsider your appointment now that I am Empress.”

“You are not Empress,” said Rema, straightening her back and regathering her composure. “And you never will be.”

“The law is very clear,” said Haran. “None of Ormun’s heirs are of age, so Betany will take the throne.” His face twitched as he looked between Rema, Betany and Ferruro, and he rubbed his hand against his wrist.

“Who said anything about the law? It’s over, Haran. We aren’t letting Betany take control.”

“And who is we?” Haran’s voice wavered. “I only see one singed, petulant woman. Who else is with you?”

“I am,” said Sothis, moving to Rema’s side and resting his frail hand on her arm. “Let’s be done with mad rulers.”

“Listen to them,” said Ferruro, and Haran’s face drooped at the unexpected betrayal. “You must have some shrewdness left in you. Or are you so eager to be Betany’s prize puppet in a court of the dead?”

“Haran!” said Betany. “Don’t listen to these vipers. They have no right. Captains, arrest these rebels.”

Artunos laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Lakmi!” Betany looked about for the house captain, who was beside an ornamental tree. “Will you please put this situation under control?”

Lakmi shrugged and spat on the ground. “It seems too complex for an illiterate like me. I’d prefer not to get involved.”

Betany frowned and took a step back. “Haran, do something.”

“Let’s not be too rash,” said Haran slowly. “Perhaps we should take time to talk about this.”

“Traitors.” Betany glared at the gathered onlookers. “Enjoy your little coup while it lasts. When you run this empire into the ground, the people will beg for me to take control. I am the rightful Empress, and when I finally come to rule I will seat your skulls at the base of my throne.”

“But for now, you’ll run to your room and throw a tantrum,” said Rema. “Begone, Betany. Retreat with what little dignity you have remaining.”

Betany lunged toward Rema, her face compressed with rage. Elise stepped between them, and Betany recoiled. “Keep away from me. You’re not human.”

Elise leaned forward, her hands on her hips. “Behave yourself. You know what happens to people who displease me.”

Betany screeched in frustration and stalked from the court. Haran moved to follow her, but Ferruro caught him by the sleeve. “You can’t be serious. Let it go, you old fool.”

Haran stared after her, looking more pinched than ever. “Call me what you will, but she could have ruled. At least it would have been legal.”

They all turned to stare once more at the burning school. The fire had now reached the first floor, and its fingers curled about the window frames, searching hungrily for more fuel to devour. Smoke spilled from the door, black and sinuous. “I hope you’re able to contain this,” Rema said.

Artunos gestured to the phalanx of silver and gold guards. They were holding buckets to their chests as they scrutinized the building with vigilant eyes. “We won’t let it spread past the court. We’re hoping that it’ll burn itself out inside the building. I am sorry about your school, though.”

“It can be rebuilt. Let this be the last good thing destroyed by Togun’s children.”

Artunos nodded. “Go to Jalaya. She’s in her chambers with a healer. She’ll want to see you both.”

“Thank you,” said Rema. “All of you.” Sothis bowed, and Ferruro gave her a knowing smile. Haran turned away, his gaunt face grim.

The palace’s corridors were flooded with wandering people, all caught in a frenzy of fear and excitement. No doubt the rumor of Ormun’s death was gathering momentum. The new council would have to act soon to maintain order, but for now Rema had other matters on her mind.

“Look,” said Elise, tugging Rema’s hand. “There’s Muhan.” He was sitting on a bench in the corridor, his masked head lowered. Rema lifted the mask away to reveal his sleeping face. He rubbed his eyes and smiled.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just slept through?” said Rema.

“I understand nothing in this house of madness.” Muhan stretched his arms. “So I decided to rest until somebody came to educate me. You two look bedraggled but happy, so I assume everything is well. Did you find that dear little woman?”

“Yes, she’s fine, and you won’t be needing the mask from now on.”

Muhan turned the mask in his hands. “A pity. I was becoming fond of it. So I take it that my performance is canceled?”

“Certainly not. You’ll perform later this week to celebrate the change of regime. In the meanwhile, you’ll get one of the finest chambers in the palace and all the grapefruit you can eat.”

“Ah. I thought you’d woken me, but alas, here I am, still in a dream.”

“I know how you feel,” said Elise. “Come on, Rema, we can talk to silly Muhan later.”

“Fine.” Rema laughed as she clasped her hands. “Take care, Muhan.”

They left Muhan tugging his mustache in confusion and continued to Jalaya’s chambers. Jalaya was sprawled among her innumerable blankets and pillows while a wrinkled man stooped at her side, patting her face with a cloth. She raised her eyes as Rema and Elise entered.

“You’re alive,” she said, her voice husky. “I was worried.”

Rema took her hand. “Here we are again. You can’t imagine how sorry I am. Of all the people to keep being hurt on my account, why does it have to be you?”

“Well, I did promise to die for you. Fate is just determined to have me keep that promise.” Jalaya winced. “Oh, my throat hurts.”

“There may be harm to her singing voice,” said the old healer. “Alas, she inhaled much heat and smoke.”

Elise growled. “There’ll be no harm if I have anything to do with it. Did you give her a mixture of honey and lemon to drink?”

“Well, no.” The healer bit his lower lip. “Should I have?”

“You call yourself a healer?” Elise stamped her foot. “You abomination! Get honey and lemon for her right now!”

With a shriek, the healer dived toward the door, holding his robes tightly about him. “Hopeless,” said Elise, her eyes scalding with temper. “Don’t worry, Jalaya. You’ll soon be singing more prettily than ever.”

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?” said Jalaya. “Tell me.”

“Ormun is dead,” said Rema. “Betany has been refused the throne. We’re going to take control now, we officials of the court, and our first action will be to return Ormun’s wives to their families.”

“All but one,” said Elise. “Let’s get married, Rema.”

Rema laughed and tangled a length of Elise’s hair about her fingers. “Why not? It seems fitting that the first female diplomat and the first self-taught enchantress become the first married women in the Empire.”

“I mean it. I’m proposing to you, Remela. Don’t make me get on my knee.”

“And I’m accepting. I’ll marry you, Elise Danarian.”

Jalaya clapped her hands and tossed a pillow into the air. “I’d cheer, but I’d hurt myself. Congratulations, you lovely things. I hope my voice comes back in time to sing at your wedding.” She sank back to her bed, clearly exhausted by the short display of delight. “Rema, you’re free now. Ormun’s shadow has left you. You can grieve for him instead of hating him.”

Rema nodded. “I want to think that the fire burned away the mad part of him, so that in whatever place the dead go, he’ll be the gentle young man that I knew.”

“He will be,” said Elise. “The man he became is lost without redemption, but the boy he once was will remain innocent. Nature does not judge, but instead receives what is healthy and pure.”

“You’re a strange one, Elsie,” said Jalaya. “I’ll miss you both. After you’re married, I’ve decided to leave the court.” She laughed as Rema and Elise both hurried to her bedside, protesting and clutching at her. “Get off me, you brutes! There’s no other way. Rema, I still love you, and Elsie, you’re so much like her that my heart is dangerously close to falling for you too. I need to give you two space to grow together.” She winked at Elise. “Besides, I know I’m a wicked temptation.”

“You’re not wrong,” said Elise. “But this is cruel. I can imagine many lonely days while Rema is scratching at her paperwork, and what will I do without your company?”

Rema stared. It was as if her joy had been stolen from her, leaving her numb. “Jalaya, you can’t. You don’t understand how much you mean to me. We’ve seen through so many unhappy years together, don’t you want to share the happy ones to come?”

Jalaya shook her head, jangling her earrings. “I have to leave for my own sake. Elsie was able to reach you in a way I never could, and I’ll never rest until I understand why. Love is my mystery, and I have to seek it beyond these palace walls. There is a secret written in the eyes and lips of a woman who needs me, and when I find her I will croon a song of love that will wind its way through the heart of the world.”

“All you poets are alike. I wanted us to grow old together.”

“We will. Every day I’ll think of you, and you need only do the same.”

“You’ve been such a comfort.” Elise wiped her eyes. “Don’t you understand that I’ve never had a friend before you? Not a lover, not a brother, but a friend…”

“I’ve made up my mind. You two need to be together, and I need to sleep. I love you both.”

“Rest well,” said Elise, lowering her head. Rema was too heavy with emotion to reply. Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away.

They left the chamber together, hand in hand, wandering without direction through the palace. As they passed beneath the wide archway of the inner court, they paused for a moment to stare at the chaos taking place within. It seemed that all the entertainers and officials of the court had gathered to laugh and gossip, their faces animated. Calicio walked among the groups, nodding his head as he responded to questions. He spotted Rema standing in the archway and lifted his hand. She raised hers in reply.

“Where do we go?” Elise said. “I’m so tired, Rema.”

“As am I. Let’s go to the gardens.”