“It tells the story of a royal hunt,” she said. “A herd of deer are pursued through the woods and countryside by a relentless pack of hounds. Rather than let themselves be slaughtered by the pack, the deer hurl themselves off a cliffside.”

Ehri’s brow furrowed. “The Tavgharad killed themselves … because of a poem?”

“Because of a queen’s command.”

“And they tried to kill you too,” said Nikolai.

“Why?” Ehri said. She opened her mouth, closed it, trying to find some argument to make, some logic. In the end the same word escaped her. “Why?”

Nikolai sighed. He could say that Queen Makhi was ruthless, but she wasn’t any more ruthless than she’d had to be. “Because when I sent that invitation, I forced her hand. Queen Makhi doesn’t want us to marry. She doesn’t want a Ravkan-Shu alliance. Ask yourself this: If Mayu was sent to impersonate you, to murder me and herself, then why put you in harm’s way at all? Why not let you rest comfortably at home while Mayu Kir-Kaat did the dirty work?”

“I was meant to be here to help Mayu, to answer questions, coach her through matters only royalty could understand. Then when it was … over, I would return home.”

“Did your sister’s ministers know about the plot to assassinate me?” How coolly he spoke of his own death. He really was getting good at this. Is it the demon? he wondered. The constant proximity to the darkness of the void? Or was he just getting reckless?

Ehri made nervous folds in the sheets with her pink fingertips. “I … assume they did.”

He looked to Mayu, who shrugged and said, “It was not for me to ask.”

“My sister told me to keep silent,” Ehri said slowly, smoothing out the folds she’d just made. “She said … she said the people would not approve of her … of our plot.”

Nikolai had to respect that she didn’t try to lay full blame for the assassination attempt at her sister’s door.

“I should think not,” he said. “The people love you. They wouldn’t want you in danger.” He sat forward and clasped his hands. “She was counting on their love for you. If you had perished with the Tavgharad the other day, I would have no way to prove that they had died by their own hand or that you had been their victim. When your death became known, the Shu people would have risen up, demanding action, and Queen Makhi would have what she wants: an excuse for war.”

“The queen doesn’t know I’m alive, does she?” asked Mayu as realization struck.

“No, indeed.”

Mayu looked at Ehri. “We are the last witnesses. Only we know of the plot she formulated against the king. We have both been her pawns.”