“Tonight the Saltborn will begin their fasts.” She watched him stir in a spoonful of honey. “Food, hunger—these things are of the flesh. I have been blessed by the Gods, and I have moved beyond such needs. When the storms approach, I ask my mystics to try to do the same.” The spoon clicked against the edge of the glass. Again. Again. “By putting aside sustenance, they are better able to focus all their desire on one purpose: the glory of the Empire. My dear mystics.” His voice was full of affection. He lowered the spoon back to the table. “Their dreams, their hopes—do you know how strong they are? Ah, children, you can’t imagine it. They pray so fervently that I truly believe they should be able to sway the Gods without intercession. Their prayers should be able to part oceans, set the sky ablaze.” A sigh. “But alas, the daiva’s children must carry their prayers for them.”

He spoke, Mehr thought, exactly like a man who was used to being listened to, and never argued with. He spoke like an Emperor himself. His voice was mild and calm, but every word he said made her mark flare with pain. She bit down on her tongue, reminding herself that the pain would pass. After the dinner, the Maha would leave her and Amun alone again for a time. One dinner, and then she would be able to focus her attention on the Rite of the Bound, and the storm that lay ahead of her.

“It is a shame,” the Maha continued with utter calm, “that the daiva’s children are such lazy fools.”

Mehr suddenly felt very cold. Both she and Amun stayed utterly silent.

“Kalini was not pleased with your progress, Mehr. She said you were clumsy. Unskilled. What do you have to say for yourself?”

She didn’t know what to say. The words were stuck in her throat. I am doing well, Maha. I know I’m doing well. He spoke like a teacher chiding a student, but Mehr knew what lay beneath that civil veneer. Beneath his smiles, his gentle voice, his heart was a starless night. His anger, she feared, would be a terrible thing.

“She is doing everything she can,” Amun said. “Maha, I promise you, no one could work harder.”

“I didn’t ask you to speak, Amun,” the Maha said. His voice was pleasant. Far too pleasant. “So now you will not, until you leave my presence.”

There was a sharp intake of breath at Mehr’s side. Then nothing. Mehr had felt the order, a cold shadow passing under her skin. She knew Amun would not be able to help her anymore this evening.

“Speak to me, Mehr. Tell me truth.”