Rumors swirled around this new Emperor. She’d halted the Tithing Festival, yes, but people were divided on her motives. Had she done it simply because she knew the Shardless Few had made the Tithing Festival the cause they rallied around? Or did she actually believe it should be halted?

Ranami had confided to her that the smuggler had taken the position of Captain of the Imperial Guard to spy on her for the Shardless Few, but what neither of them knew was why the Emperor had offered the position to him in the first place.

“And will you accept her request?”

Phalue tucked the letter back into its envelope and dropped it into the pouch at her belt. “Let’s discuss that on our way back. It should be your decision as much as it is mine. Ranami – you’re my wife. You’re as much the governor here as I am. More so in some ways. You can open my letters; I won’t mind. I trust you completely.”

The look Ranami gave her filled Phalue’s heart and spilled it over. “I know.” She pulled herself tight to Phalue’s side. “But others might mind, and we should keep some sense of propriety.”

Phalue laughed as she strode back into the rain, gesturing at her armor, her sword. “If I had a sense of propriety, first I wouldn’t be meeting with the head of the rebellion with a missive from the Emperor in my pocket. Second, I’d be dressed in silks and carried in a palanquin. Can you imagine? Me? In a palanquin? I’d break poor Tythus’s back. Third, I would have married you much, much sooner.”

Her wife smiled at that, and even the overcast sky couldn’t dim the brightness of it. “Well, a little propriety certainly wouldn’t hurt you then.”

Phalue laughed. “It wasn’t for lack of trying. How many times did I propose to you? A hundred?” They’d wedded soon after Phalue had taken over the governorship, and for that one day, she’d been able to forget that the Shardless Few wanted her dead, that her father was locked in a cell, that there would be declarations to make and so many wounds to heal. There’d only been Ranami, resplendent in a gold-embroidered dress. Her words, her lips as they’d pledged themselves to one another.

She’d thought she would feel apprehensive; instead, she’d felt like a ship that had its fill of sailing, returning at long last to the port it called home.

They’d thrown open the gates to the palace, and anyone willing to make the walk was fed by the kitchens. Phalue wished they could get married every day. But, as Ranami had pointed out so many times before, Phalue had obligations, and she meant to fulfill them.