The Courtesy of Kings | ☑ Queenkiller, Kingmaker #2

25.2

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The asraam was just as she remembered it: multi-tiered sister-structures built atop stone stilts, one much higher than the other, and out of which protruded a confusion of balconies—all at different heights, different depths, and such a tangle of them it was impossible to tell how many floors the entire building contained.

Nor did her bedchamber change much. Its new occupants had kept their beds the same way it always had been; all three in a nice little row against the wall. The middle bed was newer than the others—its wood had not faded—but the floor beneath it was still scorched from Pepper's fire.

Isla smiled. For all the trouble it gave her, the salamander used to warm her bed every night, or shine its light under the blankets whenever she wanted to read while the others were asleep. And this is the corner he'd hide in whenever he got frightened ...

Stormy nights were the worst. Pepper could never stand the sound of crashing thunder.

'Hello,' a voice called from the doorway. A dhayang, her syarong tied into a romper and hair bunched up in a bandana. 'Can I help you? Are you looking for someone?'

'No.' Everyone she knew were no longer at the asraam—those who had not found suitable arrangements would have been sent off to the Water Palace by now. What was she doing there? Isla rose from her bed. No. Not my bed. 'I was just ... it doesn't matter. Does Master Chendra still teach at the academy?'

'That old grouse? Couldn't get rid of him if they tried.'

Isla laughed. That sounded like him.

She resisted the urge to drop in for a surprise visit; instead her sudden nostalgic streak took her to the kitchens. As usual the place was a stream of endless activity; kitchenhands running up and down the platforms, stray cats darting underfoot, avoiding the threat of a broom or boiling water ...

It was one of those strays that betrayed her identity to the rajini. What became of it, anyway? The last Isla saw of Haana's bondmate, she had it thrown across Rajini Amarin's dungeons. There were many mottled tabbies presently wafting outside the kitchens, but she would never recognise if one of them belonged to the rajini's long-dead silver-servant.

It doesn't matter. Haana can't harm me any more, and now neither can that cursed cat of hers.

Still she gave the strays a wild berth as she walked by, and still she watched them carefully when she found her sister feeding a group of them in the kitchen gardens.

'Here you are.'

Tam Mai looked up, clapped away the last crumbs of prawn crackers from her hands.

'I thought I told you to stay put until the trial's over.'

'I'm studying,' said Tam Mai defiantly. 'Taeichi-seung has been trying to teach me the defensive stances, but he says my knees are too stiff. I need to be limber and smooth, like a cat ready to pounce.'

'So you're pouncing at cats?'

'No, I'm just watching them. I get what he means. He moves just like them when he gives his demonstrations.'

'Don't let him hear you compare him to wild cats.'

'I don't know if I can do it.' Tam Mai dropped onto a stone bench, so low it was hidden among the surrounding patch of galangal.

'Taeichi-seung trained since he was six years old, did you know that?' Isla lowered herself beside her sister. 'It took him decades to be this good. It takes people decades to be so good, so you shouldn't beat yourself over it, nor should you expect results overnight.'