Against an appropriate backdrop of courtiers and Household Guards, Jullia shone in an embroidered yellow silk robe. It had obviously been modeled after Cassius' Imperial Robe of State, because it featured the same design of five-clawed dragons flying above crashing waves. (The dragons all looked bug eyed, but maybe that was the subject matter.) Fabric like that was meant for cooler, drier northern climes. The woman had to be sweltering under all that brocade, but she acted as cool as if she were picnicking in the Jade Mountains – after Lord Magnissimus breathed on her, no less.
I approved. Here was a ruler who understood the power of clothing to project, well, power.
At the sight of their sovereign, all the commoners dropped to their knees, and the two earls bowed low.
Jullia pointedly directed her gaze at Yellow Flame, and not her renegade uncle. "Cousin. What have you to report?"
Her mages had already enhanced her voice so that it carried all the way to the city.
Straightening, Yellow Flame waved a hand at his own mage, who scurried forth to stamp the earl's throat. When he answered, his voice also rang out across the countryside. "Your Majesty, as instructed, I proceeded here with all haste. Upon my arrival, I discovered the forces of the Earl of Black Crag locked in a pitched battle with those of the Lady of the Lychee Tree."
Tree combat must have been common in the south. The queen gave the ring of lychee trees only a cursory glance.
"As I could not prevail upon him to obey Your Majesty's royal decree to cease and desist, I suggested that we settle the conflict by the time-honored tradition of single combat."
Jullia inclined her head, indicating her royal approval.
Behind her shoulder, Anthea's eyes bored into me. She knew that I appreciated nothing more than a good duel between a champion I'd primed to win and an opponent I'd sabotaged thoroughly. Or between two duelists about whom I cared nothing and whose deaths would provide a brief spell of entertainment.
I gave her a minute shake of my head. This particular duel had not been my doing.
Well, sort of.
"Single...combat, you say." Jullia's voice was delicate. She let her gaze rove over the dining table and the fruits, peels, and pits that littered the grass.
"Yes – "
"It's an outrage!" exploded Black Crag. "Julli– " His niece's cold stare cut him off. "Your Majesty, why do you take the word of this – "
"Uncle. We have not yet requested your side of the story."
Blood rushed to Black Crag's face, turning it as red as a ripe lychee, but he held his tongue.
As for me, I studied the queen with newfound interest. (Okay, fine, it was probably respect.) Her composure was at complete odds with my mental image of her. All along, I'd been picturing an inexperienced young woman, frail and weak and unsure of herself, consumed by grief for her father, swept headlong towards her destruction by currents at court that she could not control or, perhaps, even comprehend.
But of course she couldn't be all that young or inexperienced if she were Lodia's mother's school friend.
It was Katu's fault. Him and his overactive poet's imagination!
Leaving Floridiana's shoulder, I alighted on Anthea's, where my claws snagged and tangled in the filmy silk.
You got Jullia to come in person? I whispered as she winced and craned her neck to inspect the damage.
YOU ARE READING
The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox
FantasyAfter Piri the nine-tailed fox follows an order from Heaven to destroy a dynasty, she finds herself on trial in Heaven for that very act. Executed by the gods for the "crime," she is cast into the cycle of reincarnation, starting at the very bottom...
