Shazia dying as he held her,

as he fought to free the wounded creature,

fought to free Enlai—

Then the courtyard on a spring morning.

Enlai held fast in the guards’ grip.

Xau breathless, dizzy, queasy,

Li supporting half his weight.

Xau gulped for breath. “Master Enlai?”

“Myself again. In your debt.

There’s a monster in the desert—”

“One moment,” said Xau,

his stomach churning violently.

He had time to growl,

“Don’t ever make a song about this,”

before he doubled over

and vomited his breakfast

over his shoes.

VENEER

In the dry cool of the royal library,

two hours after the attempted

assassination of King Xau,

an orderly, rational, purposeful discussion:

the king, his advisors, his guards

careful, contained, controlled.

(King Xau’s only outward discomposure

how often he glanced at Li,

captain of his guards,

Li, who could have died

two hours ago.)

The facts arrayed, assessed:

that a creature akin

to the Hidden Queen

lurked somewhere in the Sumbrese desert;

a creature with the power to possess

man or woman,

to control their very bodies;

a creature sadistic, deadly, depraved.

Actions agreed.

The palace sentries to be doubled.

Access to the king curtailed.

A letter dispatched to Tahj, King of Sumbral,

warning him of the foul creature,

offering aid to find and destroy it.

The library door opened,

the sentries admitted Queen Hana,

the queen composed, collected.

Only her muddied riding attire

hinted her haste.

Xau stood—“We are well. Unhurt.”

“Good.” She held his gaze.

“Suyin’s in the hall.

She was with me when I heard.”

He left the room.

His second-youngest stood

back flattened to the wall.

Too straight, too quiet.

He knelt upon the floor.

He hugged her close

and could not make himself

let go.

YUNXU

The king’s dressing room was Yunxu’s domain,

a domain defined by brocades, embroidery,

button knots, shoes, sashes, sleeve-weights.

Yunxu had worked for many men,

but King Xau the only one

who’d spoken to him

of anything beyond the joint business

of robes and ornaments—

the king more likely to mention

a song he’d heard

or to ask after Yunxu’s pet larks.

Yunxu’s hands unsteady

as he smoothed the silk he’d selected—

turquoise embroidered with cranes,

cranes the symbol of long life—

the king’s life nearly cut short

that morning by an assassin—

tonight’s inauguration of a High Judge

to proceed despite that—

The door opened

and the king entered

with four of his guards.

“Your Majesty.” Yunxu bowed.

Captain Li handed Yunxu

an iron lamellar cuirass

fit for a battlefield:

“The king will wear this

beneath his robe tonight.”

Yunxu bowed again.

He undressed the king,

armored him,

robed him,

groomed his hair.

No words, no small talk.

Only as Yunxu finished

did the king return

from whatever far road

his thoughts had traveled.

Xau dipped his head to Yunxu.

“Your family? Are they well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

Yunxu bowed and the king left.

Yunxu distracted as he tidied up,

his own thoughts following

after the king.