Alexia woke to stormclouds, unsure whether her troubled dreams had been in response to the weather, or if the storm had been called by her own turbulent insides.

The nima swirled around and through her, agitated along with the weather. “Shh,” Alexia said, without any energy behind it. They were worked up today. In truth, they’d been worked up since the deaths at her estate. Or Alexia had. Some days it was hard to tell where her desires and feelings ended and theirs began.

As she dressed, Alexia sent a brush of power via one of the nima flitting around her to pass along to Kristoph that she wanted to see him. Kristoph wasn’t an akashic, so the nima couldn’t speak to him in words, but he would feel the urge and recognize the summons.

With no issues of state to deal with for the next few hours, Alexia dressed in simple silk, pants and a long shirt. Samiksha had insisted to Alexia that an Emperor must always, at every moment, present themself in a royal fashion. On the other hand, perhaps if her oh-so-radiant predecessor had spent a bit less time worrying about her presentation and a bit more thinking about the Empire’s future, Alexia wouldn’t have a number of her current problems.

Not that Alexia objected to theatricality. It was an effective tool in statecraft, and she had built quite an enjoyable personal life around it. Still, she had no desire to be performing every minute of the day. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to forget she was Emperor, no matter what she was wearing.

Kristoph arrived, as was his particular skill, at the same moment as her breakfast. An extra place was set at the table in the garden, where Alexia always began her mornings, and he joined her.

The rain began as they were settling in. Alexia brushed it aside effortlessly, creating a dome over her and Kristoph where the rain wouldn’t go. Water sheeted around them, creating a cozy sense of privacy.

Kristoph looked up at the rain, back at Alexia, raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in a wordless question.

“I know.” Alexia sighed. “It’s terribly maudlin, isn’t it?”

“Can I help?”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled at a cherry pastry that had been crafted in the shape of a swan. “I’m still…I dreamed about Vik last night.”

She could feel the press of Kristoph’s unvoiced questions. But instead of dragging her farther down that path, he asked, “Shall I distract my Emperor with gossip? The Griffon—the Lords Suri—have already put in a bid to host the next Shadow Court.”

“Eager,” Alexia said.

“It would seem. We’ve only barely unpacked from the last one.”

Alexia licked the icing from her fingers. A bad habit, but it was only Kristoph here to witness. “They want to lock it down. They’ll be celebrating an engagement.”

Kristoph’s left eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch. “An engagement?”

“One that will be incredibly advantageous, politically.”

Kristoph stopped, his cup halfway to his mouth. “An arranged marriage? The Griffon?” At her nod, he continued the motion, sipping at his chai. She gave him a moment to think it through.

“It won’t be Prince Naveen they’re marrying off, so that makes it Prince Devitri. Who will have just finished his proving by next Shadow Court, if I’m not mistaken.”

At Alexia’s nod, he went on. “An arrangement with a Swan heir, I’m certain I would have heard about. There’s no political gain marrying a Serpent. But Koschei is the issue that’s going to matter over the next decade, and the Wolves haven’t stuck their noses in that arena, so no help there, either. Which leaves the Dragon.”

“Astute, as always, my darling.”

“The Kimura heir is already married, and Lord Asher is, so far, childless. The Seong sons are both too young for even a political betrothal. Which brings us to the Nitas.” He pointed his fork at her. “Where you have an unfair advantage. Is this something you heard from Corinne?” He paused, frowning. “It isn’t Corinne, is it?”

A laugh found its way up, surprising Alexia. “I’d like to see them try. But no, it’s the younger daughter, Madeleine.” Alexia had learned this from Kuniko, who had heard it from the lips of the messenger who had shuttled the communications back and forth between the Griffon and the Dragon and who had been utterly incapable of keeping his mouth shut when he’d been caught between Kuniko—Sun—and her delightful husband.

The party night before last had been instructive for many people, it seemed.

Kristoph sat thoughtfully nibbling at a piece of fish. Probably working through the politics. Because Kristoph was a Swan’s Swan if ever there was one. “Lord Kosuri won’t be happy about this, when she finds out.”

“She’ll know soon enough.” There was very little that Ambassador Kuniko didn’t pass along to Kimie.

“If the Griffon and Dragon present a united front moving forward…”

Alexia shook her head. “It will take more than one marriage—no matter how well placed—to unite those two clans. This will give them an edge, no question, but the Lord of your family is more than capable of finding her way around that.”

“I must say I’m surprised. The Griffon are usually firmly against the idea of marriage as a political tool. While I would never question what my Emperor says is true…” he trailed off, left hanging in the air the fact that he was absolutely questioning.

Alexia couldn’t blame him. “I might be skeptical too, but this came from Kuniko, who wrung it from the lips of a trustworthy source last night.”

“As she does,” he said wryly. “Last night went well for everyone, then.”

“I noticed you found two lovely pets to put on leashes.”

“Lovely, yes. Nothing more. They were both too overwhelmed with the honor of catching the attention of Master Frost. Neither had enough depth to be interesting. Besides,” he added pointedly, “we weren’t talking about me.”

Alexia was feeling better enough to tease. “Oh? And who were we talking about?”

“Someone needing escapes.” He folded his hands on the table and said, in a too-casual voice, “Nita Corinne remains in the Golden City.”

“Now who’s mother-henning?”

“I’ve only noticed that Eiji-más seem quite taken with her. And she with Lady Snow.”

Alexia matched his affected, casual tone. “She is a delightful and passionate young woman. It’s been a joy helping her discover herself. I enjoy her intensity. Her sincerity.”

Kristoph made an artificially innocent little hum.

That was fine. Let him think Alexia was caught up in a crush. Alexia certainly wasn’t going to deny she had developed something of an affection for Corinne. But the truth of why she wanted Corinne here…

Alexia wasn’t even sure why she was keeping that from Kristoph. Why she’d held on to this so long. Except that now, if she told him—when she told him—it would suddenly be a big issue.

He would ask questions. He would ask them politely, of course, even indirectly, but he would still ask them. So far, they’d avoided the topic of Vivek and what happened at the estate completely, but once Alexia admitted there was more she’d been hiding from him, that would bring the whole discussion out into the light.

Tōru and Roderich had both been struggling in their own particular ways since the attack, both working through a certain amount of guilt for not having seen the betrayal before it happened. Alexia could understand that. Because she felt it too. No one had raised the question yet, but how could they not?

Her own brother. How could she not have seen it coming? Could she be such a failure as an Emperor—as a human being…

Even thundering above couldn’t justify that maudlin turn of thoughts

Kristoph, who seemed to notice she was sinking into her mind again, said, “What I heard from Kuniko was that Ambassador Soon-mi was boasting of a new estate she’s acquired in the City of Lights. She was, without any great subtlety, dropping hints that she would love to make it available as a location for a Lady Snow party.”

There was always jostling among the regulars for the honor of hosting the parties. “Perhaps Frost should send her a note. It never hurts to have the next location settled ahead of time.”

“Of course.”

“And while he’s at that, he might check in on Corinne, make certain she’s comfortably settled. I do believe she intends to stay for a few days, at least.”

Kristoph rose from the table and bowed. “I am ever at your service.”

“Thank you, my darling.” She sketched a little arch in the air with her fingers and the nima obeyed, creating a tunnel through the rain for him.

Alone again, Alexia closed her eyes and reached out with the rest of her senses. Felt the life around her, the energy. Flowers in the garden. Birds in the trees. People moving through the palace, their whirls of emotions a complicated and comforting tapestry.

Just beyond, always close, the pulse of darkspace.

Alexia opened her eyes. It was time to pull herself together. She looked up at the sky. “That’s enough,” she murmured to both the nima and herself, reaching out to shoo the clouds away. The rain slackened almost immediately. Before long, the skies would be clear.

Another beautiful day at the Golden Palace. Alexia had work to do.