The man glanced around. “Not sure it could come any clearer, given what she did to your city, Your Majesty.”

“We will survive, and we will rebuild. We always do. The casualties have been minimal fortunately. Let us return to the palace. My advisers would like to speak with you and your men.”

The tall, muscular leader fell into step with me as we entered the palace. “Princess Inessa over there tells me you’re Tea’s chronicler,” he remarked. “She must have lots of interesting yarns to tell.”

“Did you meet her in Yadosha, milord?”

The man’s face split into a wide grin. “Of course. Her and Lord Kalen and the other pretty asha and the Heartforger. Ain’t every day someone hauls in a nanghait for my men to mess with. Best time of my life. Most frightening time too. But you aren’t living if you’ve never faced danger that would give you a good, long piss in the pants, am I right?”

11

I was not prepared for the nearly citywide ovation we received upon entering Thanh. At certain points, I feared we would be mobbed by the well-meaning folk, despite the soldiers First Minister Stefan had stationed to prevent the more enthusiastic of the citizens from drawing too close.

The Thanh roads were a series of wide streets that preferred corners and sharp turns over straight lines. Large stone houses and two-floored shops lined the main avenues, all representing dizzying arrays of architecture that drew from every conceivable culture. There were Kion-style bungalows with high, ornamental Daanorian spires, palafittes common to Arhen-Kosho held up by Odalian columns, and wide, squat tenement houses notable in Drycht.

The people were as complex as their engineering and as equally varied. Men hanging around outside taverns raised their mugs to us despite the noonday hour and called out cheerful greetings. Nobles bowed low, proper and urbane as an average Kion, but there were rowdier groups, almost all clad in armor, who broke into patriotic song as we passed. Thanh had never struck me as a military town, but many of the men—and even some of the women—were outfitted in various kinds of plate mail. I was no stranger to Yadoshans, but it is one thing to entertain a small group of garrulous, good-natured Yadoshans in Ankyo for a trade meeting, and another to be faced with a city full of them.

“We’re a very affectionate group,” the duke informed us, a huge grin plastered on his portly face as we finished the trek, arriving at the House of Lords, a squat building built from limestone, with high towers stationed in all four corners. “You’re the first Dark asha to grace Thanh in more than ten years. Most of the asha in Yadosha were recalled last week by your asha association. Our people have been hard-pressed to find their entertainment elsewhere, and in these city-states, that usually means front seats to a tavern brawl.”