Chapter 12: The Letter in His Own Hand

It took Liyan a full minute to wake the king.

"Mingjue. It's morning. The bell's gone."

The dragon's eyes opened slowly, unfocused and grey-green and puzzled.

Sunlight lay on the glass roof, and the bed was warm.

"I was," Mingjue said, and stopped, and tried again. "I was somewhere. I was nowhere. There was no river in it."

"You were asleep."

"Asleep." He said it like a word in a foreign language. "For how long?"

"About nine hours."

He sat up and stared at his own hands in the sunlight.

Then he began to smile, helplessly, a smile that took his whole face.

"Liyan, it was..."

The door banged open.

Bo stood there, white to the whiskers, with his keys clutched to his chest.

"Majesty. Young master. Forgive me. Lord Hongde has called the court back into session."

"He cannot," Mingjue said, sitting up. "Only I may..."

"He has invoked kin's right."

Bo's voice shook.

"He says the king failed to rise for the morning audience, and a king who cannot rise cannot refuse a cousin's petition."

"They are all in the hall, waiting."

Mingjue went still.

The smile was gone from his face.

They went down the passage together, and Liyan had never seen the king walk so slowly.

The Hall of Waves was crowded.

Every fish, turtle and crab in the river had come back.

Hongde stood on the lowest step of the dais, in black and gold, with two scrolls in his hands.

He smiled.

"Cousin! Good morning. Forgive the liberty."

"Hongde," Mingjue said. "What is this?"

"I have borne this a long while. I could not sleep."

The gold tooth caught the light.

"A man should know what he is married to."

Liyan's stomach dropped.

"Honored court," Hongde said, in his rich carrying voice.

"Our cousin has had a hard season. You saw the cup last night."

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