The king sputtered. "I am not some common courtier. I am--"
"I know who you are. The king of a country so insignificant I wouldn't risk the lives of ten warriors conquering it. Have no fear. I recognize your station. I will not throw you in the du
ngeon. You'll stay on, as my guest, while I question you. If you escape, I will send my fastest messenger to Alvar, to be sure he knows you were here, answering my questions."
The king bleated some excuse, some denial, but Emperor Tatsu only turned and called, "Lysias?"
A man appeared, seeming to materialize like a spirit. He was almost a head taller than the emperor, his clothing and skin as dark as the surrounding night, his braids swinging as he slid from the shadows. Moria flinched, momentarily imagining another face, just as stone-hardened and grim as this man's, but younger, with green eyes instead of dark. The green eyes of a sorcerer.
She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally spitting curses for her foolishness. Lysias was clearly from the mountains, like the Kitsunes, but resembled Gavril only in his height, coloring, and braids. He was at least ten summers older and wore the five-pointed star that marked him a member of the emperor's private guard.
"His highness has drunk too much," the emperor said. "He stumbled and fell, and I fear I'm too old to carry him myself."
Lysias twitched his lips, as if he'd been watching and knew full well how the king had fallen--and that Emperor Tatsu could indeed carry him if he so wished. But he only dipped his chin and said, "Yes, your imperial highness."
"Place two guards at his door, please," Emperor Tatsu said. "I've heard rumors that cause me concern for his safety. He ought to remain in his quarters until I come to visit him."
"Of course."
Lysias lifted the king and took him away without another word. Emperor Tatsu watched them go and stayed there, unmoving, his back to Moria as she hid around the corner.
"Come out of the shadows, child," he said.
Moria jumped, but he could not be speaking to her. He hadn't even glanced her way.
"I know you're there." He looked straight at her hiding place. "The young Keeper, I take it?"
Moria took a careful step backward.
"If you run, I'll have to send someone to fetch you," he said. "You need to work on your spying skills, child."
Moria stepped into the moonlight.
"Where's your wildcat, Keeper? You ought not to be out alone--"
She'd left Daigo on the other side of the wall, but as soon as the emperor said that, the wildcat slunk around the corner, as if he'd been there the whole time.
"Moria?" a loud whisper cut through the night, followed by running footsteps. "Where have you--?"
Tyrus appeared behind the emperor and skidded to a stop. "Father?" Under his breath, he pretended to curse, then said, louder, as he gave a slight bow, "I'm sorry. This is my fault. Moria wished to see the palace gardens . . ."
"And you brought her this late in the evening?"
Tyrus's gaze dipped lower. "I had . . . other intentions. Moria realized that, and she fled. I came after her, to make sure she got to her quarters safely."
"I see."
Tyrus glanced over at her. "I'm sorry, Moria. I behaved dishonorably, and I am shamed. I'll call a guard to escort you back."
"She is the Keeper," Emperor Tatsu said. "Have you forgotten that?"
Tyrus kept his gaze on his father's sandals. "No. I--"
The emperor's voice rose, the edge cutting through the silent palace grounds. "This is not a pretty serving girl to dally with. She is the gift of our ancestors, sent to protect their spirits and protect us from evil. She is sacred."
There were many lies Tyrus could tell if he wanted her to follow his lead. But to suggest he'd been dishonorable? Moria could not allow this.
"Your imperial highness," she said, stumbling over the honorific. "Tyrus didn't--"