“Ikanuy was a good choice. The Imperial Palace will be in good hands while you’re gone.” I heard the formal, distant tone of my voice and wrinkled my nose at it. This was who I was now, I supposed. Professional lackey. High-profile spy. A liar, just of a different sort than I was used to.

“She does have a spine,” Lin said, and laughed.

So she did still remember our conversation, despite the chaos that had ensued. I found myself smiling. “She arrived readier to defend you than I was.”

Lin lifted her legs and rotated on the bench, turning to face me. “So it seems we are both inadequate.”

“I wouldn’t dare comment on your adequacy.”

She studied me, and again I was struck with that sense of disorientation. It was the same way Emahla used to look at me, with the same dark eyes. It wasn’t fair, that her eyes should look so much like my dead wife’s. “Please do comment on it,” she said. “I need people to be honest with me.”

I should have left it at that, should have just lived in that silence, but I was full of mistakes both big and small. “It’s not always about adequacy or showing the strength of your convictions. Yes, dismantling Bing Tai will help to show your true intentions. But the assassin thought you meant to kill Alanga, like your forebears did. There will always be people who hate you,” I said. “They don’t need to write a well-reasoned essay on it. Perhaps they hated your father, or they lost someone because of the shards, or they just don’t like the look of your face. You’re the Emperor. You’re powerful. People have to have an opinion on you. They won’t all be good opinions. At some point you have to just do what you think is right.”

The long look she gave me made me feel like she was dissecting the layers of me. She stroked Bing Tai’s ears, rubbed the whitened muzzle. Then she pushed her fingers inside his chest. I watched with dread and fascination as the beast froze, as her hand disappeared to the wrist, as she pulled several shards free, rearranged them and pressed them back into his body.

“He was a good construct. He saved my life.”

After a moment, Bing Tai laid his head on Lin’s lap and whined. His skin began to sag. It was like watching wax for a seal melting as it was held to a flame. She held his head in her hands until the creature stopped whining, until his body was just loose flesh and fur on the stones of the courtyard. “It’s done,” she said quietly. “There are no more constructs under my command.”