The porthole had been opened to let in some light. The maidservant lay on the bunk, swathed in bandages, red seeping through the cloth. The war constructs had torn at her torso. I knew what my father liked in a war construct: big teeth, even bigger claws.

The girl was breathing, though barely. I wished I hadn’t been detoured by Mephi and Thrana.

I knelt next to the physician, an elderly woman who startled when she saw me. “Eminence,” she said, blinking furiously. She moved her medicine bag over, trying to give me more space in the cramped quarters.

“How is she?”

The physician regained her composure. “I’ve done everything I can for her. The wounds are deep and she’s lost a lot of blood. All you can do at this point is give her broth and rest.”

I read between the lines. The situation was dire. No physician wanted to admit to the Emperor they could not perform miracles of healing, not after what had happened to my ostensible mother and all the physicians who’d failed to cure her illness.

I hadn’t thought about sending guards with the maids when I’d given them the day off. I’d thought of my own needs for protection, yes, but not theirs.

And this was where it led.

The physician licked her lips. “I can recommend another physician on Imperial who has experience with these sorts of wounds. If you have witstone, you might make it.”

I took the girl’s hand in mine and struggled to remember her name. Reshi. I’d been so involved in the larger things, the bigger picture, that I’d forgotten to think of the smaller things. And sometimes these were the things that mattered the most.

She didn’t respond; her hand was cold.

I rose, peering past Jovis and picking out one of the guards in the hall. “You there. Fetch my things from the palace. We leave for Imperial. Now. Burn as much witstone as we have.”

The servants and sailors scattered to obey.

“I’m so sorry,” I told my other two maidservants, and felt tears pricking my eyes. “This is my fault.”

They only stared at me, unsure of what to say. That made three of us.

I whirled, ducked out of the servants’ bunk and almost collided with an older woman in the hallway. She was nearly as short as I was, her graying hair pulled back into a bun, her tunic and pants simple but clean.

“Oh!” She patted my shoulder. The contact shocked me. I didn’t know this woman. Few dared to touch the Emperor without permission. “I didn’t see you. I was looking for my son.”

Jovis, at my shoulder, sucked in his breath.

The woman peered past me. “Jovis, there you are.” And then she looked at me again, as though seeing me for the first time. “Is this… the new Emperor?”