More gabble, as one of the riders dismounted and came to talk to Captain Faille. It was unfair that everyone except Kendall could understand. Still, she could read tone and gesture well enough. Stern statement. Polite question. Uncompromising command. Glance at Rennyn. Request. Grudging agreement. The upshot of all that was that their luggage was quickly unloaded before they all had to pile back into the carriages, leaving the turtle behind to explain to the wide-eyed servants.
"Are we being arrested?" Kendall asked, as soon as the carriage door was safely shut.
"Summoned to audience," Rennyn said. "Having waited for us to reach Koletor after making ourselves so interesting, it seems the Emperor’s of no mind to delay any longer."
"He doesn’t sleep," the Pest put in, sounding more excited than anything else. "He conducts Court business at any time of the day or night."
"Must be really annoying to work for," Kendall said.
"There is a Day Court and a Night Court," Captain Faille said, his creepy, whispery voice unexpected just because he usually didn’t pipe up in the middle of conversations. "Two Chancellors, two Masters of the Guard, two Lords of Ceremony. The Night Court is smaller, but a great deal happens there."
Only one Emperor, though: getting on toward three hundred years old and probably meaning them no good. Kendall glanced at Rennyn, who was gazing out the lowered window. Was this summons just because of them helping out at the border? Or because the Emperor had heard of Rennyn’s power and current vulnerability? What would they do if he wouldn’t let them get on with chasing Rennyn’s nasty uncle about, but instead wanted to use her knowledge for himself?
Since it didn’t look likely that Rennyn was going to try to avoid the meeting, Kendall resigned herself to an uncomfortable wait. It had been too many hours since their break for lunch, and even though Captain Faille said the palace wasn’t very far from Rennyn’s mansion, Kendall really wanted a privy, and a nice big meal. And she was willing to bet that, though she had slept much of the afternoon, Rennyn could do with a long lie down. All these days of coach travel had done her no good, especially since they’d started out before she’d properly recovered from casting. Even the restrained jouncing of a spelled coach on an Imperial Road kept giving her headaches.
Grumbling silently about the Emperor’s lack of consideration, Kendall felt the presence of a strong circle as they crossed it, and glanced past Rennyn to see they were in a tunnel or long gate. And then more rain-shimmering streets reflecting light from grand buildings. Kendall lowered the shutter on her side, and peered out curiously, trying to decide if this was the Emperor’s palace or just a fancier district of Koletor. And had her answer when the coaches slowed, and rumbled to a stop.
A woman in a mask that covered only the left side of her face appeared outside Kendall’s door, and waited for the man with her to open it.
"Your Grace," the woman said, looking past Kendall straight at Rennyn. "My name is Kishida Dzay. I will conduct you to the Waiting Rooms."
Caught between pleasure at someone speaking proper words and outrage that they’d been hurried up only to sit about and wait, it took Kendall half the first corridor to realise that the woman not only spoke Tyrian, but could recognise Rennyn at a glance. The implications of that weren’t exactly comfortable, and Kendall turned them over until it became impossible not to just gaze about her.
Kolan palaces were just like Tyrian Court costumes: not an inch left plain. The floors were red and honey-gold wood, locking together in tricky chains. The walls were a dusty moss green below waist height, with red panels bordered with black above. Not simple swatches of colour, but shot through with thin lines of gold in patterns which seemed to be floral from what Kendall could make out without stopping. The black was a very dark wood, with little designs at the corners. The doors they were passing were made of the same stuff, and cut full of diamond and flower-shaped holes so that you could see the rooms beyond: some empty, some with little groups of people. And there were tables with bowls of flowers, and great big vases taller than she was, and furniture that was all curving lines and cushions. It wasn’t cluttered, but because just about everything was scribbled on or painted, it meant that everywhere you looked your eye was caught and overwhelmed.
"This room has been reserved for you, Your Grace," said the Kolan woman, pushing open one of the hole-filled doors. "You will be given priority in the audience schedule. Would you care for refreshments while you wait?"
"Very much so," Rennyn said, sounding more resigned than annoyed at being hauled off to the palace without notice.
Kendall forgot her own annoyance when Kishida Dzay pointed out several doors down where the corridor widened out, and she took herself quickly off to use a privy that was bigger, cleaner and even smelled nicer than many houses she’d visited. Along with a screen hiding a throne of a privy chair, there was a big mirror with a table and stool and a stone basin and towels. A low firm couch was set against the opposite wall, just in case you felt tired on the way to taking care of your business, and beside that an ornamental pillar with a big vase full of fresh flowers. Most unprivy-like.
Not one to pass up Kolan wetworks, which she’d found would deliver endless amounts of hot and cold water, Kendall gave herself a quick wash, straightened her travel-rumpled coat, and then sneered at herself for preening in front of the mirror. If what they looked like mattered to this Emperor, then he shouldn’t have had them fetched the second they arrived.
Heading back, Kendall found that a new door in the long corridor had opened. She was sure that doorway hadn’t been there when she’d gone past before, and cautiously poked her nose around the corner. But it was only a passage leading to the kitchens. A trolley laden with food was waiting, and Kendall was tempted to go nab something, but then a tall boy stepped into view and snaffled one of the plates himself. Pushing his mask up so it sat on top of his dark hair, he lifted something gooey and bit into it, eyes squeezing shut like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
A man came out from the kitchen to the left, holding two more plates. He drew himself up as if to say something sharp, but then paused and hastily shut his mouth. Putting the plates on the trolley, he turned and fetched another to add, keeping his head tucked down and his shoulders bent like a wary dog with its tail between its legs. The younger one just watched, and stuffed his face, then turned his head, and Kendall had to duck back or be spotted.
Not sure she’d escaped being caught staring, Kendall took herself back to their waiting room and peered innocently at the patterns and furnishings until Captain Faille brought Rennyn back from their own trip. Knowing how Rennyn hated being babied about privy visits, Kendall tried to decide if her teacher was closer to collapse than she’d thought, or if Captain Faille was worried about her being attacked. She did look tired, but greeted the arrival of their refreshments with considerable interest, and stuffed herself with almost as much obvious enjoyment as the boy in the passage. It was definitely a fine spread, with many new and sometimes-tempting Kolan dishes.
When it seemed that their audience wasn’t going to happen immediately after food, Kendall sat back and said: "That lady’s was the first mask I’ve seen that just did one side of the face. Do the different sorts have different meanings?"
"Very much so," Lieutenant Meniar replied. "One of the histories we brought along lists them out. Only the Emperor wears a full mask—a white one. Everyone in the service of the Emperor—all officials directly appointed to carry out his orders—wears a charcoal-grey mask marked with the sigil that represents Kole. That’s not everyone who works in this palace or anything near as many—only what are known as 'delegates'—so anyone you see wearing that colour and symbol is carrying out the Emperor’s will. They wear different masks when they’re not representing the Emperor. And all masks break down into two groups. Those who have one side of their face covered are not of noble blood. Nobles cover both eyes, and differing amounts of their lower face depending on how important they are."