Mimi’s face froze. “How can Ikigégé do that? The rent is fixed by the lease.”
Aki put the dishes into the sink and started to wash, her cracked fingers flitting through the water like scaly fish. “Master Ikigégé says that the regent has raised the taxes at Emperor Ragin’s orders. Since taxes are not discussed separately in the lease, all of his tenants have to bear a share of it.”
This made no sense to Mimi. Why was the emperor, who supposedly cared about the lives of the people, raising taxes on the poorest of the poor?
Wiping the dishes, Aki continued, “But Master Ikigégé is generous, and offered to reduce the share I have to pay if I do chores at his house. I work as a maid over there so that he doesn’t have to hire one, and at least this way I can afford the rent.”
The idea of her mother slaving away at her landlord’s beck and call sickened Mimi. “Ma, don’t go. I’m home now, and I’ll go in your place. I’m sorry I was away for so long, but you won’t have to suffer anymore.”
This is the right thing to do, isn’t it? I’m sure Kon Fiji would approve.
But Aki stacked the dishes and shook her head. “You have a new name now, Zomi Kidosu. You are no longer a simple farmer’s daughter.”
“What are you saying, Mama?”
Aki turned around and folded her hands against her lap. “Remember the story about how if a golden carp leaps over the Rufizo Falls, it turns into a rainbow-tailed dyran? You’ve leapt over the falls, Mimi-tika. You have a future, but it isn’t here. It isn’t with me.”
Mimi closed her eyes and remembered the time she and Luan had flown in stringless kites: After seeing the world from such a height, could she spend the rest of her life in this small one-room dwelling, within the bounds of a few acres of land and a thin sliver of beach? Could she bend and scrape for a few coppers from their landlord after having critiqued the philosophies of the Hundred Schools? Could she endure the tedium of this way of life after having been exposed to so much more?
“There’s a restlessness in your soul,” said Aki. “It’s always been there, but now it’s grown.”
Mama is right, Mimi thought. This is no longer home. I have to make a new home.
“I will make you proud, Mama. I will register for the Town Examination; I will bring you honor and wealth; I will make sure that you eat white rice every day and dress in silk and sleep on feather-filled mattresses at night.”
Aki came over and held Mimi, and she had to reach up to caress her daughter’s face. “All I care about, my child, is that you’re happy. You are setting out into the wide sea, my baby, and I’m sorry that Mama does not have the knowledge or skills to help you.”
What do I care about the duty of the learned? Mimi thought. Why should I try to make the lives of the Earl of Méricüso or Master Ikigégé better? All I care about are the people I love.
Mimi hugged her mother back. “I will give you a better life. I swear it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THROUGH THE VEIL
“Zomi Kidosu was right,” Dafiro said. “The cashima who were not ranked among the firoa had formed a mob outside the palace gates. They were banging on gongs and singing songs, demanding that the Grand Examination essays be reviewed by a new panel of judges. Their antics attracted a large number of idlers and curious passersby.”
Kuni waved for everyone to be quiet. He listened. There were no sounds of banging gongs or singing students or shouting mobs, muffled or otherwise.
“I said were.” The captain’s tone was humble, but there was a hint of smugness to it. He waited as the silence lengthened, like a storyteller playing his audience.
Kuni parted the cowrie strands dangling from his crown impatiently so that Dafiro could see his face and what the emperor thought of the captain’s attempt at drama.
Dafiro bowed and hurried to explain. “I told the rioting cashima that you, Rénga, were interested in understanding their complaint, but as there were many voices among the students, you preferred to receive a single petition signed by the most insightful scholar among them. ‘Emperor Ragin will personally review the petition, bypassing Imperial Tutor Ruthi,’ I said—and I may have winked. ‘You may even get a private audience with the emperor himself.’ ”
Kuni let the cowrie strands fall back in place to hide his smile. “Clever, Daf.”
Dafiro’s eyes twinkled. “I have an excellent teacher, Rénga.”
Even the empress and Consort Risana couldn’t quite keep their faces straight at this, and a few of the generals and ministers who had followed Kuni the longest chuckled. Kuni’s reputation for shameless tricks as a young man was well known.
Dafiro bowed to Zato Ruthi. “I beg your pardon, Master Ruthi. I figured you would not want to meet with these spoiled children.” Ruthi waved his hands dismissively, indicating that he was not offended by Dafiro’s fib.
“Wait, wait!” Phyro jumped up from his place at the foot of the dais. “Da, how did what Captain Miro said stop the riot? I don’t understand.”
Kuni looked at him affectionately—though the boy couldn’t see his face—and then glanced at Timu, whose face was equally confused. Only Théra stood there grinning knowingly like the ministers and generals in the hall. The emperor sighed quietly to himself. “Daf, why don’t you explain for the benefit of the young prince?”
Dafiro nodded. “Prince Phyro, what do you think happened among the scholars after I told them about the petition and the private audience?”
Phyro spread his hands helplessly. “I have no idea.”
“Think, Phyro,” Kuni said, a hint of impatience in his voice. “You’re being lazy.”
Risana cut in gently. “Just imagine yourself in the scholars’ place. Remember what it was like when you and your friends played war? Who got to be the marshal?”
“I did,” Phyro said, looking even more confused.
Kuni shook his head almost imperceptibly. Phyro did often play with the children of ministers and nobles who were in Pan, but of course Phyro always got to pick the game and always got the best roles because he was the emperor’s son. He had too little experience of the dynamics of a group, of politics. This has to be remedied.
Dafiro smoothly came to the prince’s rescue. “Your Highness, the rioting cashima are ambitious scholars. Most of them are used to being the cleverest boy—or girl, in a few cases—out of everyone they know. When I mentioned that the emperor would accept a petition only from the best among them, it was natural that all of them would want to claim that title—and I added fuel to the fire by implying that one of them might get a private audience with the emperor, which is almost as good as being a pana méji.”
Phyro’s eyes glinted with the light of understanding. “So… they started fighting over who was ‘most insightful’?” He rubbed his hands together in glee, sorry to have missed an exciting fight.
Dafiro nodded. “But they’re scholars, Your Highness, so their fighting is… how should I put this… of a different quality than wrestling matches among the soldiers.”
“I bet they competed to see who could quote the most obscure passages from Kon Fiji,” said Phyro, chuckling. Timu gave him a reprimanding look and subtly pointed at Zato Ruthi, who pretended not to see any of this.