"I can but--"
"Then follow me. Tell Daigo to wait."
He jumped onto the wall and then swung down. By the time she'd spoken to her wildcat, Tyrus had disappeared. She jumped to the base of the wall and looked about.
"Over here," he whispered, peeking from behind a building. When she caught up, he said, "Keep following. Quietly. Don't sneak, though. There's no reason I can't bring you to my quarters, but I'd prefer not to take the ruse that far, for the sake of your reputation. Just follow quietly and take note of the route. You'll want to use it again. Soon."
Like the court, the palace itself was a complex of buildings. The emperor's residence was in the middle--or so she'd heard, having not been here before. His first and second wives also had homes in the compound, as did his concubines, including Tyrus's mother. Tyrus himself lived here, like all the emperor's children, except the daughters who'd married and left.
When Moria once asked how many children the emperor had, Tyrus estimated fourteen--four legitimate sons, two legitimate daughters, and the rest by his official concubines, though he allowed he may have forgotten one or two. The legitimate offspring were all older than Tyrus. Two of the bastard daughters were older and married, living elsewhere. The remainder were at least three summers younger, meaning Tyrus was the only one who posed a threat, and thus garnered all his brothers' interest.
Given the size of the imperial family, the palace compound was not small. It may even have been larger than the court. Besides the residences, it included a number of other buildings, for guests and entertainment. Those were along the wall adjoining the court, and that's where Tyrus led her. They stopped outside a window shuttered against the late-day heat. Inside, she caught the bustle of serving staff preparing for a meal.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" Tyrus whispered, leaning in so close his breath warmed her ear.
She could pick up nothing of import. Just someone asking a steward about the menu, someone else being chastised for poorly arranging flowers. When she said as much to Tyrus, he nodded.
"I only wanted to know if you could hear them. The window ought to be open tonight, but if there's a sharp breeze, they'll close it."
"Why would I--?"
He waved for her to follow. When she caught up, he whispered, "You'll need to return to the court a different way. I'll show you."
He took her almost to the rear corner. One of the palace buildings came close enough to the wall that they could climb onto it. They emerged in a quiet pocket behind the armory. There was a bench there, with a small koi pond. They'd barely sat when Daigo appeared and settled silently at Moria's feet.
"When I was growing up, my father loved to tell me tales of dragons," Tyrus said. "I swear he didn't know a story that didn't have at least one." He rubbed his thumb over the red dragon on his forearm. "They were as important to him as our actual ancestors. One of his favorite tales was of a sand dragon. I presume I'd be wasting breath if I asked whether you know your types."
"Sand, snow, rock, timber. Corresponding to the four major parts of the empire--the southern desert, the frozen north, the western mountains, and the eastern forest. There are also corpse dragons, but they aren't the same."
"This story is about a sand dragon, which lives alone, for very good reason."
"Because they guard treasure."
"Exactly. The problem with having treasure is that everyone wants it. No matter how far away the dragon hides, eventually men will come. Being in the desert, though, the dragon can see approaching armies from afar. So this one waited, and when the men arrived, he did not meet them with fire and death, but with kind words and hospitality. He was very pleased to see them, having been alone for so long, and if they would share his company for a time, he would happily share his fortune in return. Of course, the men suspected a trick. The first dinner they attended with hidden blades and anxious hearts, but the dragon was as pleasant a host as one could wish. The second night, some left their blades behind, but most were still mistrusting and prepared for battle. Yet the dragon was even more hospitable, the banquet bigger, the entertainment grander, and at the end, he gave them all a bag. Those who left their blades behind had received gold coins, enough to feed a family for many seasons. Those who'd brought their weapons found their bags filled with sand. They knew their host had detected their duplicity, and they were shamed. So on the third night, no one carried a blade to the banquet, and the dragon was in his best mood ever, the food and the entertainment beyond anything imaginable. At the end, he invited them into his treasure room, to take all they could carry, and once they were there, he barred the door and left them to die."
"As he should," Moria said.
Tyrus smiled and nodded. "As he should, because they came to his home with treachery in their hearts. They accepted his hospitality while plotting his demise. Now, like the men of the story, there is an invited guest on the palace grounds who came with treachery in his heart, and plots with Alvar Kitsune to bring about my father's demise."
"Either the Sultan of Nemeth or the King of Etaria."
"My father has entertained them sumptuously for two nights. This is the third night."
"Meaning whoever betrayed him will die."
Tyrus laughed. "No, that's where the story diverges, because it would hardly be in my father's best interests to murder a valuable source of enemy intelligence. Each night, while the food has grown richer and the entertainments more exotic, the number of invited guests has dwindled, allowing a more intimate affair . . . and allowing my father more time with his guests. Tonight it will be a very small gathering, with much wine and diversion, and he will determine who is betraying him."
"And the dinner will take place in that room."
"Yes."
"Where I can listen in."
"Yes." He moved so close their legs rubbed. "This will not help you get the children back, Moria, but it may help you see that progress is being made. We are all frustrated, but if we swoop into Fairview with an army, they will see us coming and slaughter the children and villagers. Alvar Kitsune is playing a game. A terrible and cruel game, but a game nonetheless. We cannot break the rules. We must find a way to subvert them. That's what my father is doing."
She nodded.
He leaned in further, taking her hand in his. "I can see how much this is hurting you. I just want . . . I want to make it stop hurting, and I know it won't until you have some resolution, not just with the children, but with Gavril--"