"No," Otah said, and she knew by his voice he was lying. It was time to
stop asking details. There was only so much physician's attention her
father would permit. She sat back on the couch, and he let out a small,
satisfied breath.
"You saw Issandra Dasin?" she asked.
"Yes, yes. She spent the better part of the afternoon here," Otah said.
"The things they've done with Chaburi-Tan are amazing. I was thinking I
might go myself. Just to see them."
"It would be fascinating," Eiah agreed. "I hear Farrer-cha's doing well?"
"He's made more out of that city than I could have. But then I was never
particularly brilliant with administration. I had other skills, I
suppose," Otah said. "Enough about that. Tell me about your family. How
is Parit-cha? And the girls?"
Eiah let herself be distracted. Parit was well, but he'd been kept away
from their apartments three nights running by a boy who worked for House
Laarin who'd broken his leg falling off a wall. It had been a bad break,
and the fever hadn't gone down quickly enough to suit anyone. It seemed
as if the boy would live, and they were both happy to call that a
success. Of Otah's granddaughters, Mischa was throwing all her free time
into learning to dance every new form that came in from Galt, and
wearing the dance master's feet raw in the effort. Gaber had talked
about nothing besides the steam caravan for weeks, but Eiah suspected it
was more Calin's enthusiasm than her own. Gaber assumed that Calin rose
with the sun and set with the moon.
Eiah didn't realize how long she'd been telling the small stories of her
family until the overseer came out with an apologetic pose and announced
that the Emperor's meal was waiting. Otah made a show of rubbing his
belly, but when Eiah joined him, he ate very little. The meal was fresh
chicken cooked in last year's apricots, and it was delicious. She
watched her father pluck at the pale flesh.
He looked older than his years. His skin had grown as thin as paper; his
eyes were always wet. After his hands had fallen to their weakness, the
headaches had begun. Eiah had tried him on half a dozen different
programs of herbs and baths. She wasn't convinced he'd followed any of
them very closely.
"Stop," Otah said. Eiah took a pose that asked clarification. He frowned
at her, his eyebrows rising as he spoke. "You're looking at me as if I
were a particularly interesting bloodworm. I'm fine, Eiah-kya. I sleep
well, I wake full of energy, my bowels never trouble me, and my joints
don't ache. Everything that could be right about me is right. Now I'd
like to spend an evening with my daughter and not my physician, eh?"
"I'm sorry, Papa-kya," she said. "It's only that I worry."
"I know," he said, "and I forgive you. But don't let tomorrow steal
what's good about tonight. The future takes care of its own. You can
write that down if you like. The Emperor said it."
The flower that wilted last year is gone. Petals once fallen are fallen
forever.
IDAAN ROSE BEFORE THE DAWN AS SHE ALWAYS DID, PARTING THE NETTING
silently and stealthily walking out to her dressing chamber so as not to