Morning sunlight streamed into the meeting hall the next morning, spilling over Yuna’s shoulders and warming them.

Azuma stood next to her, a blank expression on his face. Like her, he’d woken up after only a few short hours of sleep, unable to succumb anymore. Then, once he arose, he polished his armor with a tightly set jaw and grim determination.

She left him to his thoughts, certain that she could put nothing there that he wasn’t already thinking. She hid her satisfaction.

What a beautiful day.

The sound of someone walking across the tile floor broke the stillness in the room.

Bramen Qin crossed the room, stopping in front of the two of them. There were heavy bags under his eyes. “You two look like hell,” he said.

“So do you,” Yuna said with a wry smile.

He returned it.

“Did they come?” Azuma asked.

Bramen motioned to his guard with a jerk of his head.

Two lanky figures stepped into the room wearing dark brown tunics with collars. A linen cloth covered most of their faces, revealing only eyes beneath heavy brows. Long black hair flowed onto the slender shoulders of the woman on the left. The man, on the right, had brown shoulders and a scar connecting his unseeing eyes. Neither spoke.

“They’re formidable,” Bramen said, “I’ll give you that. They’re from the Mavul Desert and belong to the Alqat caste.”

“Legendary killers,” Yuna murmured. “But a good killer needs his sight, at least. The woman seems as if she could barely carry a heavy tray. I wouldn't even hire her as a servant in my palace. I don’t think they can do the job at the price they requested.”

“I’ve heard stories,” Azuma murmured. “Stories about the Alqat that gave me nightmares when I was just a boy. If even half of them are true, they’re going to be formidable foes with . . . how do you say it? Special and unique qualities.”

“Among which sight and strength clearly aren’t two of them.”

Azuma shot her a hot glare, which she ignored.

There wasn’t time for incompetence. Not at this stage. Isao had to die, or all their plans and work would be for naught.

“Rumor says that behind that piece of cloth they hide demonic mouths. Or something worse,” Azuma drawled. “Would you like to find out?”

Yuna sent him a heavy glare. “I don’t care what they’re hiding as long as they do the job. How do they work if they’re small and blind?” she asked. "Even Isao could defeat a woman so slender."

Bramen waved a hand. The two assassins shifted, and the women directed her cold, glittering eyes at Yuna.

She’d never met anyone as equally ruthless as her, but she could see some of her own relentless ability in this woman’s eyes. Perhaps the assassins had a little value.

“Your target is Prince Isao,” Bramen said quietly, handing a familiar garment to the male assassin: Isao’s ceremonial robe worn during the wedding.

The man pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Once. Twice. He sniffed the length of the garment, then turned to his sister and nodded.

The two of them backed away, hovering just near the door.

“Fine. Give the job to them, Bramen,” Yuna said. “We’ll pay them what they want. If they don’t finish? Then they’ll wish for death as well.”

Without another word, the assassins slipped out of the room, leaving nothing but a blanket of silence in their wake. Azuma tilted his head back and laughed maniacally, the sound expanding until it seemed to fill the whole room.

"He's going to die," Azuma sang, his eyes glittering. "He’s going to fall apart. They're going to slaughter him and bring us his eyes as a gift."

* * *

Hours later, a handful of guests with frightened, tear-stained faces stood before Yuna. She smiled at the owners with a weary but determined, expression.

She pulled in a breath, thriving on it.

"You have our deepest promise," Yuna murmured to the guests gathered in the great hall of the Imperial palace. "Azuma, Bramen, and I will not rest until we can bring these traitorous murderers to responsibility. Let us all remember that we are strong together. If we work hard, we can defeat the Ameya clan."

"We don't know who worked with the Ameyas!" someone called. "There could be traitors in our midst!"

" I will find out, I promise you," Azuma promised. He kept one hand on his sword, sheathed at his side. His jaw was tense, his entire body rigid, as he stood next to her, exuding a brute strength.

"We will demolish this plague, this evil," Yuna proclaimed. "We assure you that the Ameya will pay for what they have done." Her voice caught. She swallowed, blinking back tears. "They will not go free for murdering our beloved Emperor."

Next to her, Azuma stiffened.

"We support you, Yuna," said a man from the Mudra clan with eyes the color of coffee. Umber hair swept around his ears, dangled near his eyes. "We are grateful for your willingness to lead the Empire at this frightening time."

"You have our trust and our blades."

"We will fight."

The murmured responses of those present, as predictable as sheep, sent power spiking through Yuna. She nodded in humble acceptance, thrilled to accept her new role. "I cannot tell you what it means to have your trust," she said, reaching out to hold the hand of an older, trembling woman from the Horalu clan. "We will conquer together."

Giving their farewells, the group drifted toward the open doors. Most of the servants who had survived were worked feverishly in the background, carrying out the trunks and boxes of the guests, removing bodies from the courtyard, and carrying off any unclaimed corpses to the massive burial pit near the outer reaches of the city.

Yuna and Azuma both remained immobile, standing like two pillars while the guests proceeded into the courtyard, where the surviving horses that would carry them back to their homes whinnied.

Yuna pulled in a deep breath. "A reassuring morning," she murmured once she was certain no one could hear.

"Let's hope it continues."

Let's hope those ridiculous assassins know what they're doing, she thought, but dismissed it when the sound of approaching feet caught her attention.

A Hiwan soldier entered the room from a side door, his face flushed as if he'd been running. His head darted from side to side, scanning, until Yuna lifted a beckoning arm.

"Over here, young soldier. Do you need something?"

Encouraged by her friendly tone, he rushed toward them. A few paces away, he stopped, head bowed.

"Nishu Yuna and Saten Azuma, I have been sent with news. A group of Hiwan soldiers have captured and imprisoned the fugitive Nobu Ameya."

"Really?" Yuna asked.

"He awaits you in the dungeon. He attempted to escape through the countryside last night. Fortunately, the patrols interrupted his path after tracking him. He struggled, but has been subdued."

"Wonderful news indeed. Thank you, soldier. We will visit him a little bit later."

With one last bow, the man backed up and left.

Once he left, Yuna cast a long glance at Azuma.

He grinned in response.

* * *

Late afternoon sunshine stretched across the gravel path as Yuna and Azuma walked through the small park toward the Imperial Mortuary Chamber. The building, built of marble, vaulted high overhead in a domed ceiling that sparkled with the dust of ground-up diamonds. Dappled sunlight came through the glass, sending a glow onto the sacred grounds.

Azuma slipped inside first, his breath catching at the sight of Danjuro and his wife on marble tables off to the right, gauzy black veils draped over their bodies. New clothes, garnished with jewels and golden sashes, adorned their bodies.

To the left lay Saemon on another cold slab of marble, blood still marring his skin and clothes. His body was still awaiting the Imperial funeral rites.

Yuna trailed in behind Azuma, her gaze reflecting boredom.

Next to Saemon lay a smaller, more lithe body. A young man with thick hair just like Prince Isao's, but with a face that had been smashed in by something heavy during the skirmish, completely eradicating the features. This body had been prepared for burial. It was draped in elegant clothes of the softest velvet decked with the Hiwan symbol across the chest.

Yuna strode across the mausoleum, gazing on the face of Saemon’s murdered servant. She studied the broken features, the swelling in the now grotesque face.

“A fitting death mask for a Hiwan clan member,” she snarled under her breath.

This body would do, she thought. The man’s resemblance to Isao was strong enough that people would believe it was him.

A slight movement caught Yuna's ear. She whirled around to find Ren sitting on a bench next to Danjuro and her mother. Ren sniffled, long, sparkling trails of tears trickling down her cheeks. She made no effort to wipe these away.

Yuna slipped to her side. Ren jumped when she sat down next to her.

"Yuna," Ren murmured. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."

"Don't apologize, dear sister. You are distracted by grief, as are so many. It has been a very bloody, difficult time. Our parents look so peaceful, don't they?"

For a moment, they gazed on the draped bodies, so artfully arranged in a peaceful slumber.

"Yes," Ren whispered. Tear welled up in her eyes again. She glanced briefly over at the mangled corpse meant to be her new husband, then away.

Yuna reached over, holding Ren's hand, and wondered if she really mourned him. "I'm so sorry that you lost everything, Ren. But you're strong. You can conquer this."

"Thank you, Yuna."

Azuma met Yuna's gaze over the top of Ren's head. He canted his head to the side. Yuna nodded softly.

"Ren, darling, Azuma and I have a few things we need to plan around our parents’ funerals. We need to decide and what to do with their bodies as we are so far from home. We'll be just outside if you need us. Just call. All right?"

Ren nodded wordlessly, and Yuna tucked a piece of hair behind Ren's ear.

"Take your time here, Ren. We're in no hurry."

Azuma and Yuna stepped back outside into the warm sunshine, and crossed the grass several paces. Once out of the marble chamber, Azuma relaxed.

"I don't want them buried here," he said.

"I agree. Father wouldn't want to be buried anywhere near the Emperor, and the Hiwan clan cannot honor them the way we can at home. This place is filthy, really."

"Then it's agreed. We take them back to Nagon and honor them with a procession."

"And leave them in the burial place of all our previous rulers."

Azuma's shoulders slumped. "Yes. They deserve that honor at least, if not more. They were greater than all the rest."

Yuna glanced back, over her shoulder, to see Ren through a window decorated by wrought iron curls. Her head was down, her hair spilling in long waves on her slender shoulders.

"We need to address the city of An Wan as well," Yuna said, her mind swirling with her thoughts. "Establish ourselves as the temporary rulers during this chaos while Ren pulls her life back together and the world mourns. The common people must know that Ameyas are the enemy, or all of this may fail. We need to declare the deaths of the Chancellor Najeem, Prince Isao, and Emperor Saemon. Some of them may not know."

"Yes, they are rustic bumpkins. They don't know anything, do they?"

"They will expect a celebration, for sure. On that note, we also need to announce Ren as the Princess and Ruler of the Marugan Empire. So much to do," she said, tsking. "We cannot miss a single step."

Azuma sneered. "Yes, we must not forget about vaulting Ren to the blessed position."

Yuna ignored him, staring instead at the emerald-robed figure striding down the gravel path, her mind full with thoughts of all they had to do.

"Bramen," Yuna finally said, inclining her head as the Chancellor got close. "We were just discussing the removal of our parents bodies so we could bear them back to Nagon. They would want to settle permanently in their home, I believe. Anpu will mourn them properly."

"I agree."

"And an excellent decision on the servant boy, Chancellor," Azuma murmured, his eyes alight. "I'm jealous I didn't think of it myself. No one will know that he isn't the prince, which makes his inevitable demise all the more beautiful."

"You had other reasons to be distracted, Saten Azuma. I am merely here to serve. Have you decided yet who will give the speech to An Wan? That must happen soon."

"Not yet," Yuna murmured.

"We'll have to introduce Ren as the new leader very carefully. She must have a full and proper coronation. She will need to present her best front. We need her to at least appear strong, or panic will ensue. It will be difficult for the Hiwan to have lost all their leadership and be forced to accept an outsider."

"She needs time," Yuna said.

"She can have some," Bramen said. "But not too much. And there is one other issue that has come up."

"Oh?" Yuna asked. "What's that?"

Bramen frowned, his forehead furrowing into deep lines. He glanced at the Mortuary Chamber and turned his back to it slightly, shuffling a few steps away. Yuna and Azuma followed.

"Several Hiwan soldiers have left the Army this morning; they don't want to serve another clan. Shall we be rid of them? Are they defectors that need to be punished? I am eager to avoid future problems."

"No," Yuna said. "Let's not make things more difficult for ourselves. If we appear to have a compassionate front, allowing those to leave who want to, we'll ingratiate ourselves with greater power. Besides, a smaller Hiwan army will not harm Nari purposes."

Bramen's eyes twinkled. "Wisely spoken, Yuna, as usual. Then we shall let them go."

Azuma drew in a deep breath. "So it is settled then. Our parents will be buried at home, we will announce the deaths of the Hiwan scum, and we'll plan Ren's coronation."

"Indeed," Bramen drawled supportively.

"In the meantime," Azuma said, glancing at his sister, "Yuna has a prisoner to speak with."

* * *

Torchlight flickered in the passages to the imperial dungeon, casting shadows on the walls.

Two Nari guards descended the stairs with Yuna, flanking her on either side as they proceeded into the palace’s belly. Once they all reached the bottommost floor, a pungent smell drifted in the air, one like moldering hay and piss. Yuna instinctively recoiled, then continued on to the single, occupied cell.

A desperate man with deep-set eyes and a swollen lip sat on a rickety stool, hovering just out of sight in the shadows of his cell. She studied him as she silently closed the gap between them, drawing his attention only moments before she arrived.

He leapt off the stool with a growl, throwing himself against the bars. They rattled on their old hinges. He spit at her, but Yuna deftly dodged the foul spittle.

The Nari guards shoved their spears through the door, snarling. The prisoner backed away, hands up, and bared his teeth.

"Greetings, Nobu," she murmured, "you heartless traitor."

"You!" he screamed, pointing at her. "You're the traitor. I know the Nari clan is behind all of this, you whore. You killed my father. You killed the Emperor. I never trusted you!"

Yuna grinned. "What are you going to do about it now? No one is going to believe you. They're too busy mourning our dear Emperor, whom your people killed. It helps that your father is dead too, doesn't it?"

He screamed in agony and rage, the veins in his neck popping out.

Yuna rolled her eyes. "Control yourself, you fool. You're the greatest traitor here. Don't you see?"

She extracted a knife from a sheath in her belt, holding it up for his perusal. His eyes widened as he recognized the blade.

"What are you doing with that?" he whispered.

"Oh yes, you do recognize it. How lovely. I found it in my father's chest, naturally. You should know; you're the one who put it there. No one is doubting it now, what with the Ameyas betraying the Empire, and all that. Terrible, isn't it?"

"I lost that knife. I didn't use it to kill anyone."

She tsked. "Didn’t you now?"

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"You can scream all you want; no one will hear and no one will care."

She leaned forward, her face mere inches away from the cold metal bars. He reared back, but didn't look away, his eyes locking with her intense, nearly animal-like stare.

His eyes widened. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

"You have betrayed everyone, and so must die," she cooed. "In one of the worst possible ways. Slowly. Without light. Without fresh air, sunshine, or hope. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Like the maggot you are."

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance. His nostrils flared.

"You," he whispered. "You were the hooded figure in my father's room. You got my knife then. You stole it. YOU killed your own parents!"

Yuna snorted. "You're a fool, Ameya, if you believe that. I adored my parents. Why would I kill them? Continue with your mad ravings if you must, but know that it will get you nowhere. You have committed the ultimate treachery, the ultimate sin."

"I am innocent!"

She stepped back. "So says everyone who lives in Iskawan, don't they?"

The blood drained from his face. He rushed up to the bars of the cell, gripping them with blanched knuckles. "Iskawan? You cannot do that to a noble member of a clan. You don't have that power!"

"Oh," she murmured, "but I can," before slipping back down the hall.

Nobu shrieked after her, "You cannot do this!"

She stopped at the first step of the staircase to glance back and meet his terrified gaze. She grinned, feeling a delicious surge of power all through her bones. "Enjoy your stay in Iskawan, you traitor."

Her robes fluttered behind her as she turned and moved up the stairs. The torchlight cast a shadow as she passed, a little flutter of spectral shadow following in her wake.