The Courtesy of Kings | ☑ Queenkiller, Kingmaker #2

13.2

Didn't he say his theurgy blossomed at eight? 'When the Emperor took you under his wing,' concluded Isla.

'For which he has my eternal gratitude.' Taeichi's eyes darted to the door. He pulled a grill onto the firepit and slathered it with oil before laying it with thin-sliced ribs. The sound of sizzling drowned his words when he continued, 'I have not stepped foot outside Momuji since.'

'Surely he allows at least a visit to the people who raised you.'

Taeichi's smile did not reach his eyes. 'Of course. I visit them every night. The Emperor was kind enough to give me their urns.'

Isla's eyes widened. 'Are you saying he—'

'I say nothing. It was an unfortunate accident. An earth tremor destroyed the hokkan in which they were staying. The entire family was slain.'

'But not you.'

'I was awaiting results of my blooding at the time, and so saved from the tragedy.'

'Let me guess—everyone else from your clan believes you died with them.'

Taeichi chuckled. 'You are full of questions, Lilja-dame. Did you not learn that the curious porpoise loses its fin?'

'I believe you baited my curiosity, seunghwan.'

'As any expert hunter would.'

'So how did you come to be in the Emperor's auspicious eye? I doubt he spends his resources scouring the realm for talented young theurgists to adopt into his care.'

'The Divine Gyok always had their eyes on me.' He said this without pride or pleasure. Taeichi flipped the ribs on the grill. Oil hissed and spat. Isla strained to hear his next words, 'My great grandfather was also truth-weaver for the emperor of his time. That alone is enough to generate interest in his offspring.'

Isla's eyes narrowed. 'Truth-weaving—especially one high enough to advise an Emperor—is a rare theurgy, yet you're the second in four generations?'

'I know what you think. Though my clan is indeed one of the more selective communities, we share none of the Divine Gyok's practices. My great-grandfather married outside the clan, for one. His son—my grandfather—even wedded a wildflower. It was not until my father that he wedded a woman of the same clan.'

Taeichi took a rack of ribs off the grill and served it onto Isla's plate. His movements were always so graceful, precise. Isla felt like a street urchin dining beside him. 'So you aren't a Divine Gyok.'

He was unbothered by the question. 'I do not belong to the Gyok clan.'

His choice of words was a little too careful. It felt like an answer Isla herself might give.

'Your lies taste just like mine,' he had said. Was this what he meant?

A question formed in her mouth, but the look he gave her silenced it immediately. The door opened then with a whisper of wood. An older man entered, juggling a tray of sweets and dessert drinks. Isla shirked uncomfortably under his gaze. He watched her as he served, but it was not the threatening gaze of a wildcat sizing its prey—that she would have been able to handle, meet with a challenge of her own. His felt more appraising, critical ... like Noi watching her while she attempted to cook.

Taeichi spoke to him in Tsun, their conversation flying way beyond Isla's level. She used the moment to study the man in return. He did not dress like a guard, and he did not behave like a servant. He could not be family—foster or blood—and surely if he were a member of Taeichi's clan, he would be dining with him instead of serving.