If you tear just one page, Ghan had told her. Just one.
Hezhi wiped at her eye when she realized a few tears had squeezed out, and she shut them tightly, willing the salty water to stay beneath her skin. If Ghan saw her cry, he would know. He might learn anyway, but he would not learn from her. She remained there, thinking, composing herself, for some moments more. When she felt her face settle out of distress and into what she thought was a more normal mask of indifference, Hezhi carefully closed the book. There, one could not tell one torn page when the book was closed. Had Ghan even seen her take this particular volume? She was deep in what she called the tangle, a confusing maze of shelves and tables in the back corners of the library. Ghan had not seen her asleep, and he had not seen her take down this book. Satisfied with her reasoning, feeling a little better, Hezhi replaced the volume with its dark wine binding, nestled it among its brethren. She looked about once more, saw no one through the cracks and gaps between the books and shelves.
She took down another book, one that promised to tell her of the proper consecration of First-Dynasty fanes. She reasoned that since consecration involved painting the symbol names of the River upon supporting and necessary structures of the buildings, there might be some good description of the way that such buildings were planned and constructed. After an hour of half comprehension, Hezhi saw the mistake in this; the fanes of her father's dynasty were indeed painted, but in the First Dynasty, they were merely filled with particular and complex combinations of incense. There seemed little promise of architectural description in that. Her eyelids were beginning to droop once more and, rather than risk tearing another book, she replaced the useless volume and rose. She was proud of herself when she went past Ghan, neither hurrying nor dragging, in every way her normal self. As usual, he spared her not the tiniest glance.
Once outside, she scurried to where Tsem sat, back propped against the wall. He was talking to a young man in the dress of the court, some minor nobility. When the young man saw her, he raised his brows a bit, bade a quick farewell to Tsem, and started off down the corridor, plainly having business elsewhere. Hezhi paid little mind. She rushed up to Tsem, plucking at the titan's sleeve.
"Let's go, Tsem. Now."
Tsem nodded, frowning, and climbed laboriously to his feet.
"This was a short day for you," he remarked as they crossed the increasingly busy hall. Afternoon absolutions would be offered soon, and everyone was moving toward the open fountains. Hezhi, of course, would attend no such public ceremony, and though Tsem technically should, she made no sign that he might be released to go and do so.
"Yes, a short day. I thought I might help Qey in the kitchen."
Tsem snorted. "There is no need to lie to me, Princess. Tsem is your servant."
Hezhi frowned, a bit angry that Tsem should know her so well. They crossed the White Yarrow Courtyard and then entered the royal wing, where they met fewer people going to pray.
"Did the Salamander cause you pain, Mistress?" Salamander was Tsem's name for Ghan and his smooth pate.
"No, Tsem." Hezhi was startled to feel her tears threaten to begin again. Hadn't she put them away? She was fine.
"Huh." The Giant grunted. They walked along a bit in silence.
"Mistress," Tsem began, then paused a moment before going on. "You know Wezh Yehd Nu?"
"What? Tsem, what are you talking about?"
"I just wondered if you knew him."
"Should I?"
"His family is wealthy and powerful."
"And unscrupulous. A century ago they acquired their land by fraud and deceit. There was a murder or two involved, as well, I think."
"I have never heard this," Tsem growled.
"No one talks about it. After all, now they have Royal Blood. It was in one of the old records—a priest wrote it, bemoaning the thinning of the River's blood with that of thieves and cutthroats."
"Ah. But this was long ago, yes?"
"Yes, long ago."
"There is a young man of the family, one Wezh…"
"Was that who you were talking to in the hall?"
Tsem stopped, leaned against the bright turquoise painted wall of the Wind People Hall they were just entering. "You know," he said, "that just may have been him."
"Now, you don't lie to me, Tsem. He scurried off like a house lizard when the cat comes around. What did this 'Wezh' want of you? I warn you, if you think I will release you, even for a day, to bodyguard some fool while he goes off to get drunk in the city…" Hezhi had refused such requests before.
"Ah… no, Princess. That is not what he wanted."
"Well?"
"He asked me to talk to you."
"About?" Hezhi was impatient with this conversation. What was Tsem going on about?
"He would like for you to… meet him. In the Onyx Courtyard, perhaps, or wherever you choose."
"Meet him for what… oh. Oh."
"He asked me to tell you something else," Tsem murmured, almost inaudibly. His face was flushed dark, as dark as the time Hezhi had discovered him and the water maid who came around now and then to clean the cistern, poking and prodding one another in an old storage room.
"Something else?"
Tsem cleared his throat, his eyebrows drooping mournfully in embarrassment.
"Ah," he said. "Whither goes her brilliant beauty/My tongue cannot hold her name/More elusive than…"
"No! Stop right there," Hezhi hissed.
"I'm not very good at reciting…"
"It matters not. I don't want to hear that. This boy is courting me?"
"He would like to."
"No! I won't have that. No."
Tsem tightened his jaw, but then his coarse face softened. "Princess, what could it hurt?"
"I have no time for it," Hezhi answered. Nor will I prove Ghan right about me, she added silently.
"What shall I tell him, then?" Tsem sighed.
"Tell him whatever you like. This is no concern of mine, Tsem."
"As you say, Princess."
"Exactly so," Hezhi shot back. She strode off quickly, more than ready to be in her bed, alone, forgetting as much of the day as possible.
The rest did Hezhi good; she slept more than in any two recent nights. But as refreshed as she felt, she also had the nagging sensation of being behind, of having lost time. She ate a hurried breakfast of red rice and sausage, and with barely a word to Qey, she darted off toward the library. She did not stop to get Tsem, but he followed her anyway, catching up to her before she departed the royal wing. He reached her, in fact, near the foot of the Hall of Moments, a marbled corridor scintillating in the shifting colors that glowed through its stained-glass skylights. Hezhi paused there, both to allow the Giant to join her, and also to peer down the beautiful hall. Down there were her father and mother, aunts and uncles, older siblings.
"Beautiful, isn't it, Tsem?"
"It's very nice, Princess," he answered.
"When do you think I will move down that hall, live with Father and Mother?"
"When the time comes, Princess."
"Yes, when the time comes. My sister Lanah moved down there last fall. She was thirteen, just about my age."
"Perhaps soon, then, Princess."
"Tsem, you know, don't you? Why we all live out here, in the royal wing, but not with the family. Why we move in there sometime after our tenth years. And if not that, get taken away into the dark, below the city?"