"What?" Denth asked.

Jewels gestured at Vivenna. "He's a step ahead of us. Been tailing your princess here. She saw him watching her at the court."

"Colors!" Denth swore, snapping a dueling blade into the sheath at his waist. "Colors, colors, Colors!"

"What?" Vivenna asked, paling. "Maybe it was just a coincidence. He could have just come to watch the court."

Denth shook his head. "There are no coincidences where that man is concerned, Princess. If he was watching you, then you can bet on the Colors that he knows exactly who you are and where you came from." He met her eyes. "And he's probably planning to kill you."

Vivenna fell silent.

Tonk Fah laid a hand on her shoulder. "Ah, don't worry, Vivenna. He wants to kill us too. At least you're in pleasant company."

Chapter Twenty.

For the first time in her several weeks at the palace, Siri stood before the G.o.d King's door and felt neither worried nor tired.

Bluefingers, oddly, wasn't scribbling on his pad. He watched her silently, expression unreadable.

Siri almost smiled to herself. Gone were the days when she'd had to lie on the floor, awkwardly trying to kneel while her back complained. Gone were the days when she had to fall asleep on the marble, her discarded dress her only comfort. Ever since she'd grown daring enough to climb into the bed the previous week, she'd slept comfortable and warm each night. And not once had she been touched by the G.o.d King.

It was actually a nice arrangement. The priests-apparently satisfied that she was doing her wifely duty-left her alone. She didn't have to be naked in front of anyone, and she was beginning to learn the social dynamic of the palace. She'd even gone to a few more sessions of the court, though she hadn't interacted with the Returned.

"Vessel," Bluefingers said quietly.

She turned toward him, raising an eyebrow.

He shuffled uncomfortably. "You... have found a way to make the king respond to your advances, then?"

"That got out, did it?" she asked, looking back at the door. Inside, her smile deepened.

"Indeed it did, Vessel," Bluefingers said, tapping his ledger from beneath. "Only those in the palace know about any of this, of course."

Good, Siri thought. She glanced to the side.

Bluefingers did not look pleased.

"What?" she asked. "I'm out of danger. The priests can stop worrying about an heir." For a few months, at least. They'll get suspicious eventually.

"Vessel," Bluefingers said with a harsh whisper. "Doing your duty as the Vessel was the danger!"

She frowned, looking at Bluefingers as the little scribe tapped his board. "Oh G.o.ds, oh G.o.ds, oh G.o.ds..." he whispered to himself.

"What?" she asked.

"I shouldn't say."

"Then what is the point of bringing it up in the first place! Honestly, Bluefingers, you're getting a little frustrating. Leave me too confused, and I might just start asking questions-"

"No!" Bluefingers said sharply, then immediately glanced behind him, cringing slightly. "Vessel, you must not speak to others of my fears. They're silly, really, nothing to bother anyone else with. Just..."

"What?" she asked.

"You must not bear him a child," Bluefingers said. "That is the danger, both to yourself and to G.o.d King himself. This all... everything here in the palace... it is not what it appears to be."

"That's what everyone says," she snapped. "If it's not what it seems, then tell me what it is."

"There is no need," Bluefingers said. "And I will not speak of this again. After tonight, you will lead yourself to the bed chambers-you obviously have the pattern down well enough."

"You have to tell me something!" Siri said.

"Vessel," Bluefingers said, leaning in. "I advise you to please keep your voice down. You don't know how many factions shift and move inside the palace. I am part of a large number of them, and a stray word on your part could... no, would... mean my death. Do you understand that. Can you understand that?"

She hesitated.

"I should not be putting my life in danger because of you," he said. "But... there are things about this arrangement with which I do not agree. And so, I give my warning. Avoid giving the G.o.d King a child. If you want to know more than that, read your histories. Honestly, I would think that you'd have come to this all a little more prepared."

And with that, the little man left.

Siri shook her head, then sighed and pushed open the door and entered the G.o.d King's chamber. She closed the door, then eyed the G.o.d King-who watched her, as always-and pulled off her dress, leaving her shift on. She went to the bed and sat down, waiting a few minutes before climbing up on her knees to do her bouncing, moaning act. She varied it sometimes, doing several different rhythms, getting creative.

Once she was done, she snuggled down in the blankets and lay back in the pillows to think. Could Bluefingers have been any more obscure? she thought with frustration. Perhaps Vivenna would have known how to read him. What little Siri knew of political intrigue told her that people preferred to be subtle-obscure, even-to protect themselves from implication.

Read your histories...

It seemed an odd suggestion. If the secrets were that visible, then why would they be dangerous?

Still, as she thought, she did find herself feeling grateful for Bluefingers. She couldn't really blame him for his hesitance. He'd probably already endangered himself far more than he really should have. Without him, she wouldn't have known she was in danger.

In a way, he was the only friend she had in the city-a person like herself, a person drawn in from another country. A country that was overshadowed by beautiful, bold Hallandren. A man who...

She trailed off she felt something odd. She opened her eyes.

Someone loomed over her in the darkness.

Despite herself, Siri screamed in surprise. The G.o.d King jumped back, stumbling. Heart thumping, Siri shuffled backward on the bed, pulling the covers up over her chest-though, of course, he had seen her unclothed so often that it was a ridiculous gesture.

The G.o.d King stood in his dark black clothing, looking uncertain. She'd never asked her servants why he wore it. It seemed that he would prefer white, which he could affect with his BioChroma so dramatically.

Siri sat for a few moments, blankets clutched before her, before forcing herself to relax. Stop being so silly, she told herself. He's never even so much as threatened you.

"It's all right," she said softly. "You just startled me."

He glanced at her. And-with a jolt of surprise-she realized that was the first time she'd addressed him since her outburst the week before. Now that he stood, she could see even better how... heroic he looked. Tall, broad shouldered, like a statue. Human, but of more dramatic proportions. Carefully, showing more uncertainty than she'd ever expected from a man who had the t.i.tle of G.o.d King, he moved back to the bed. He sat down on its side.

Then, he reached to his shirt, pulling it up.

Oh, Austre, she thought with sudden shock. Oh, G.o.d, Lord of Colors! This is it! He's finally coming for me!

She couldn't fight off the trembles. She'd convinced herself that she was safe, comfortable. She shouldn't have to go through this. Not again!

I can't do it! I can't! I- The G.o.d King pulled something out from underneath his shirt, then let the garment drape back down. Siri sat, breath coming in gasps, slowly realizing that he was making no further moves toward her.

She calmed herself, forcing the color back into her hair. The G.o.d King laid the object on the bed, and the firelight revealed it to be... a book. Siri's mind was immediately drawn to the histories Bluefingers had mentioned, but she immediately discarded the connection. This book, from the t.i.tle on the spine, was a book of stories told to children.

The G.o.d King let his fingers rest on it, then he delicately opened to the first page. The white parchment bent in the force of his BioChroma, shooting out prismatic colors. This didn't distort the text, and Siri carefully inched forward, looking at the words.

She looked up at the G.o.d King. His face seemed less controlled than usual. He nodded down at the page, then pointed at the first word.

"You want me to read this?" Siri asked in a quiet whisper, mindful of the priests who might be listening.

The G.o.d King nodded.

"It says 'Stories for Children,'" Siri said, confused.

He turned the book around, looking at it himself. He rubbed his chin in thought.

What's going on? she thought. It didn't seem like he was going to bed her. Did he, instead, expect her to read a story to him? She couldn't imagine him asking for something that childish. She looked up at him again. He turned the book around, pointing at the first word. He nodded toward it.

"Stories?" Siri asked.

He pointed at the word. She looked closely, trying to discern some hidden meaning or mysterious text. She sighed, looking up at him. "Why don't you just tell me?"

He paused, c.o.c.king his head. Then he opened his mouth. By the waning light of the hearth's fire, Siri saw something very disturbing.

The G.o.d King of Hallandren had no tongue.

There was a scar. She could see it if she squinted closely. Something had happened to him, some terrible accident had ripped it free. Or... had it been taken purposefully? Why would anyone take out the tongue of the king himself?

The answer came to her almost immediately.

BioChromatic Breath, she realized, thinking back a half-remembered lesson from her childhood. To Awaken objects, a person must give a Command. Words spoken in a crisp, clear voice. No slurring or mumbling allowed, or the Breath will not function.

The G.o.d King looked away, suddenly, seeming ashamed. He picked up the book, holding it to his chest, and moved to stand.

"No, please," Siri said, edging forward. She reached her hand forward and touched his arm.

The G.o.d King froze. She immediately pulled her hand back. "I didn't mean to look so disgusted," Siri said in her whispered voice. "That wasn't because of... your mouth. It was because I was thinking about why it must have been done to you."

The G.o.d King studied her, then slowly seated himself again. He held himself back far enough that they were not touching, and she did not reach for him again. However, he did carefully-almost reverently-put his book back down on the bed. He opened to the first page again, then looked at her, his eyes pleading.

"You can't read, can you?" Siri asked.

He shook his head.

"That's the secret," she whispered. "The thing that scares Bluefingers so much. You're not king, you're a puppet. A figurehead. You're paraded about by your priests, given a BioChromatic aura so strong that it makes people fall to their knees in wonder. Yet they took your tongue so that you couldn't ever use it, and they never taught you to read, lest you learn too much or manage to communicate with others."

He sat looked away.

"All so that they could control you." No wonder Bluefingers is so scared. If they would do that to their own G.o.d... then the rest of us are nothing to them.

It made sense, now, why they had been so adamant about her not talking to-or even kissing-the king. It made sense why they would dislike her so much. They were worried about someone spending time alone with the G.o.d King. Someone who might discover the truth.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head, then met her eyes. There was a strength in them she wouldn't have expected of a man who had been sheltered and isolated as he must have been. Finally, he looked down, pointing back at the words on the page. The first word. The first letter, actually.

"That is the letter 'shash'" Siri said, smiling. "I can teach you them all, if you wish."

The priests had been right to be worried.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Vasher stood atop the palace of the G.o.d King, watching the sun set above the western rainforest. The sunset was vibrant against the clouds, colors flaring, beautiful reds and oranges painting the trees. Then the sun died and the colors faded.

Some said that before a man died, his BioChromatic aura flared with sudden brightness. Like a heart giving its last beat, like the final surge of a wave before the tide retreats. Vasher had seen it happen, but not with every death. The event was rare, much like a perfect sunset.

Dramatic, Nightblood noted.

The sunset? Vasher asked.

Yes.

You can't see it, he said to the sword.

But I can feel you seeing it. Crimson. Like blood in the air.

Vasher didn't respond. The sword couldn't see. But with its powerful, twisted BioChroma, it could sense life and people. Both were things Nightblood had been created to protect. It was strange, how easily and quickly protection could cause destruction. Sometimes, Vasher wondered if the two weren't really the same thing. Protect a flower, destroy the pests who wanted to feed on it. Protect a building, destroy the plants that could have grown in the soil.

Protect a man. Live with the destruction he creates.

It was dark, yet Vasher's life sense was strong. He could just faintly feel the gra.s.s growing below and knew how far away it was. With more Breath, he might even have been able to sense the lichen growing on the palace stones. He knelt down, laying one hand on his trouser leg and one on the stone of the palace.