He shook his head. “I need to know, Triste. If it’s not true, I’ll see you free, I’ll take you away myself. I swear. But for my father, for my family, I need to know.”

The girl turned away, body sagging in defeat.

Tan gestured to Kaden. “Take the belt from your robe. Bind her. Use the slaughter knot.”

“And her feet?”

“A short hobble. We are not going far.”

Kaden glanced around himself once again. The kenta through which he had entered was not the only one on the island. Dozens of the slender, delicate gates ringed the periphery, as though the entire block of land had once supported an enormous tower. He imagined some awful storm toppling the structure—buttresses and corbels, ramparts and flutings, all of it—into the sea, leaving only the doors, dozens of stone arches open as silent mouths.

“These are the gates,” he said, shaking his head even as he slipped the belt from his robe. “This is what Nin described: the gates kept by the Malkeenian kings.” For the first time, he started to understand the power such gates could bring. To move from one end of the empire to the other in a few strides . . . it was little wonder Annur had remained stable over the centuries while other kingdoms fragmented and fell. An emperor who could cross from northern Vash to western Eridroa in a handful of steps would be almost a god. He half expected to see his father emerge from one of the kenta, chin bent toward his chest in that way he had when he was thinking. But no . . . Sanlitun was dead. The gates were Kaden’s responsibility now.

“Work,” Tan said, gesturing toward Triste.

Kaden knelt beside her, knees pressing into the damp earth. She met his gaze, even as he rolled her onto her stomach, his hands rougher than he had intended. He was used to trussing up sheep and goats, not men or women, and his belt dug deep into her soft flesh as he pulled it tight.

“Leave a loop,” the older monk said. “To guide her.”

“You’re enjoying this,” she said, disgust thick in her voice.

“No,” Kaden said quietly. “I’m not.”

She clenched her jaw as he pulled the rope tight, but refused to look away. “I didn’t spend my whole life in Ciena’s temple without learning something about men. Ministers or monks—you’re all the same. Makes you feel good, doesn’t it? Strong.” Kaden couldn’t tell if she was about to sob or snarl.

He started to respond, to insist that the whole thing was just a precaution, but Tan cut him off.

“Do not attempt to argue with her. Finish the work and have done.”