The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

26. The Right to Serve

"So then we wait till the eleventh hour, make the request, and hope that they won't be able to arrange the dinner until after Washfall."

She pursed her lips. "It's not much of a hope."

"It's the only one we have."

Ashya laid her head on his shoulder, and tears soaked into his sleeve. They rode home with rain pattering against their roof.

* * *

It was the smoke they saw first, rising in the distance. It puffed up in a swirling cloud, battered by the rain, mixing with the thinner chimney smoke of other buildings. But this wasn't from a chimney.

M'yu keyed in a command, and the hover doubled in speed, whizzing around the buildings. The Gold House came into view, sputtering like a dying hearth. The smoke rose off it in waves, small flames dancing even as the rain drenched the outside. 

Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it as he sprung from the hover and through the gate. Servants clustered outside the dying blaze, some futilely throwing buckets of water and snow, some just crying. Most of the building stood crooked and blackened, like sick, barren trees. Sparks floated over the snowy ground and through the rain, hissing and sizzling as they went out.

"What happened?" M'yu's voice cracked.

One of the maids detached from another girl and wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice was whispery and hoarse, but she met his eye. "I'm not sure, master. It was after Prince Aevryn left for the trial. All we saw were large men in black hoods. They broke through the gate and the front door and set fire from the inside. We called for the Knights, but—" She pressed a hand to her mouth.

M'yu set his hand on her shoulder.

"No one came," she said. "No one came."

"I'll take care of this," M'yu promised, not sure how he would but sure he had to. The maid returned to the embrace of her friend, and M'yu beckoned at Sviya.

She strode through the snow, shaking her head. "I didn't know he was going to do this. I swear."

"So you think it was your uncle too." This was Gloam brute work. M'yu had seen enough of it to know.

"He was irate about his house burning down, and he's always suspected you had something to do with it. And this morning..."

"This morning what?"

She clasped her hands together, head turned toward the house's husk. "I overheard one of his spies tell him that the Tsaright was considering dropping him. If my uncle was ever going to do something—" She broke off, lip bit.

M'yu's voice was flat. "Then today would be the day to do it."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He glanced over his shoulder to check on Ashya. She stood stock-still in the rain, staring at her dead home. Evriss turned her away, and she collapsed into his embrace. M'yu looked back to Svi. "But you might be able to help me fix it."

"Mykta, the building is gone."

"It's not the building that matters."

Her brow drew.

"How much control do we have over this last meal?"

"What?"

M'yu eyed her, rain dripping down his face.

"Well." She held her fan over her head to block the rain. "You get to pick the guest list, and your House is responsible for providing the food. The Tsaright picks the time, as well as the location. Historically, they choose the smallest available space in the Prav'sudja to fit everyone attending."