My hands stilled. But no one had. This was the governor of Hualin Or. She and her family might have come back from Imperial acting a little oddly, their mannerisms a little changed. But who were the servants to say anything? The guards? Who would have believed them or who even had the power to change things? Only the Emperor, and he was the initiator of this deception.

So Wailun adopted a son and everything continued as it always had – colder and stranger, but routine. The people of Hualin Or had been under the rule of a facsimile, and not even a very good one.

I thought I understood a little the need for rebellions.

I shifted the shards in my palm. My wrist was still bleeding, my blood dripping onto the floor. I needed to clean that up, put the shards back in and run.

Footsteps sounded outside the room. No time. I shoved the shards back into her body and made for the window, hoping she wouldn’t spot me by the time she came to. She’d undergo a bit of a reset, forgetting everything that had happened immediately before I’d removed the shards.

I heard the guards enter the room just as I’d finished pulling myself onto the roof. The cut stung, but I knew from prior experience that it would heal quickly. My bond with Thrana would make sure of that.

The night air felt colder than it had on my way to the governor’s rooms. I hurried back to my guest rooms, trying not to scrape my palms as I lowered myself from the edge of the roof and into the opened window. Thrana rushed at me, pressing her head beneath my palm. I rubbed the base of her horns, trying to reassure her. “I’ve returned. It’s fine.”

But I couldn’t reassure myself. I thought about the shards in my hand, the order I’d had them in when I’d placed them back into Wailun’s body. Had one of the shards slipped below another? I seemed to remember them jostling as I’d hurriedly thrust them back into place. A reference shard taking the place of a command shard. A cold dread wrapped around my chest. I’d interrupted the construct’s logical balance. Wailun would fall apart. I still remembered the faces of Bayan and Ilith as their flesh melted from their bones.

I’d done the same thing to Wailun. They would find her with her eyelids gaping, her nose sloughing from her skull. Her dagger nearby and bloodied. By all appearances, a murder.

Someone pounded at the door. I jumped, my heartbeat fluttering. My wound was fast-closing, but it still oozed a little blood. They’d see it. They’d know.

“Quick!” I whispered to Thrana. She followed me to the window, where I leaned over. “Use my back.”