The festivities bloomed around Joshi, ostentatious displays of wealth that would have made his brothers lapse into a rant about the decadent ways of civilization while casting envious glances all around. Joshi was untouched by it all. This tower cull was almost at an end, and he was glad of it. After this, either the sect would shake off most of its hangers-on and go to a smaller tower where he might continue to cultivate without so much attention, or he would have to leave it.

  That had always been the plan: to find his own path for cultivation, continue climbing until he was strong enough that no one could tell him what to do. So why was he still here? Laughter spilled out of a brightly lit pavilion where a trio of cultivators were entertaining a gem noble with boasts about their deeds. A little farther on, imperial cultivation officials sat with their heads together at a table over a plate of fish rolls, talking animatedly.

  There was a whole world here, one Joshi didn't fit into. The only part he did fit was cultivating, and they tacked so much baggage onto that, so much nonsense he wanted no part of. The emperor disguising what it truly meant to be a cultivator inside of his rules and regulations and strings and grandchildren. So why was Joshi still here? Why hadn't he left?

  Oh, he had told himself it was because he needed another endorsement for his license. But that wasn't true. There were always ways. What was preventing him from leaving tonight, striking out, finding his fortune, or even going to one of the lesser sects who had been eliminated from the contest and seeking his place there? He didn't need to stay tied to Morning Mist. But he didn't like the thought of leaving behind the first real friend he'd ever had.

  Admitting that to himself was hard. He had grown up in the midst of half-brothers and cousins, the children of his clan playing together in the dirt, competing against each other in games played from horseback, brawling, struggling, proving themselves against each other. But none of them had been friends. He had always been an outsider with a foreign mother. His mother had tutored any of the children who were willing in the civilized arts: reading, writing, the history of the empire, and ranks of the nobles. Joshi had been one of the few boys to attend her lessons faithfully. The others had mocked him for that.

  Then, when he had gone to the monastery of Harupa, the other novices considered him a blunt barbarian whose hands were better suited to fistfights than holding a pen. He'd had to fight for recognition there, scrapping with every other novice until they admitted he at least had skill. But that hadn't won him any friends.

  Certainly, in his time in chains, he'd had no one and nothing. But Chang-li had somehow become a friend. More than that, a comrade, someone he could be proud to stand alongside. Chang-li had asked so little of him. Coming to his aid without looking for payment. He had upended his own life in his efforts to help Joshi reclaim his own. He owed Chang-li, and he didn't know how to pay that debt.

  And somehow, as he mused, his traitorous feet led him to the inner courtyard where the high-ranked gem nobles and cultivation officials sat. He stood in a courtyard hung with many-colored lanterns, an impossibly vast courtyard open to the sky, the cobbles underfoot shining with light. There was Hiroko standing next to a knot of gossiping nobles, but not with them. Her body language said she was apart. She turned her head and her eyes widened as they met Joshi's briefly.

  She started toward him. For a moment, Joshi considered fleeing. He was no coward. This was a conversation he needed to have before he left. So he steeled himself and strolled toward her. They met in a little space between people. He bowed his head to her, and she gave him a nod in reply. "Joshi, I'm glad to see you here."

  "It's my duty to be here tonight." The words jerked out of him. They sounded all wrong. Hiroko was studying his face, no doubt looking for reassurance. They hadn't spoken since their betrothal had been announced.

  Hiroko licked her lips. "I'm sorry for how things happened," she said. "I was trying to talk to you before, but you weren't there. And then at the feast, well, I'm sorry. It had to be done, but it shouldn't have been done like that. Are you angry?" Her eyes were locked on his.

  He considered and then shook his head. "I'm not." There was no reason for him to be angry. Not now. She had done what she thought she needed to do, and it wasn't going to affect him because he wasn't going to be here to let it. A quiet peace settled over him. This cull was nearly done. He would leave after this. He'd be free of this engagement.

  Hiroko was biting her lips. "Are you—I mean, that is, your sect is doing very well. Are you—do you think Li Jiya will win?"

  "I think she has an excellent chance," Joshi said. "The other brides are good contestants. Their allies are strong, but we'll do our best."

  "Well, good luck to you. I spoke with your grandmaster. He seems very knowledgeable." And then her expression faltered and she said in a rush, "Oh, just tell me you're angry with me. Don't—don't shut me out like this."

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "I'm not angry," Joshi said, aware that they were standing in a courtyard. There was a balcony a little ways off, overlooking the lake below. A few people stood farther along, but near them the balcony was empty. He nodded to it.

  Hiroko followed him over. They stood at the rail, looking out into the dark evening sky. Far, far below, the lake reflected back the same color. Lights bobbed on the rafts of the Flotsam, hundreds of feet below. "I'm not angry with you," he said again.

  Her eyes were wide, looking up at him. "You were furious with the betrothal."

  "I didn't say that."

  Hiroko brow furrowed. "Then why are you avoiding me?" Her eyes flashed as a spark of her spirit kindled to life. Joshi blinked. He hadn't seen her this animated since they'd left the tower. Now, seeing a ghost of the Hiroko he had known, he found himself warmed. There was the real Hiroko, the spirited girl, the cultivator, buried under the layers of duty and honor and obligation that being a gem noble put on her. If she had just lead with this, maybe he could... But no, there was no way to take the girl and leave the court. She had made that clear enough.

  For a long time she searched his face while he searched for what to say. Nothing seemed to fit the night. Finally her gaze fell. "So what are you going to do?" she whispered. "Run away again?"

  He felt a a twing of relief and sadness. He didn’t have to tell her, she knew. She knew him. "I will not let anyone put bonds on me again. Not you, not the Empire."

  "You're not running away from bonds," Hiroko said. She was studying him intently. “You’re running away from connections of any sort. You have to stop cutting yourself off from people. It's not even about me. You have friends. I would have been one of them once, but I guess I messed that up." She managed a plaintive smile despite herself.

  Joshi felt his heart stir at the expression on her face, but her words cut him. "I have a sect now. I have friends. I'm not cutting myself off from anything," he protested.

  Hiroko shook her head. "You say that, but you've been preparing to sever all those attachments. I don't think you really have any connection to anyone in your sect except Chang-li, and even with him, the bond between you is frayed."

  She was much too perceptive. Joshi didn't like that. "I have to go," he said roughly. "I'm supposed to get tutoring from one of the Prisms as a reward for doing well in the competition."

  Hiroko's eyes widened. "Be careful," she muttered. “The Prisms are all playing their own games here. The Dowager Pearl warned me.”

  “I’m sure she has schemes of her own."

  "Of course," Hiroko said calmly. "And no doubt I'm part of them. But nevertheless, be careful."

  "Showing concern for your possessions, Princess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Hiroko cringed as though he'd offered to strike her. Joshi immediately felt guilty. She looked away, out across the lake. The moon was dipping low toward the horizon. Within them came a gasp from the crowd. Lights filled the air, fantastic displays of color and sound. Hiroko looked upward, her eyes widening.

  "Oh, a lux pantomime. I haven't seen one of those since I left the Emperor's Garden," she said, looking more cheerful. "I used to love those when I was a child. We had them every year during the two weeks celebrating the Emperor's ascent to godhood. That's when all of us princes and princesses were counted as another year older," she added. "Whatever your actual date of birth, the official counting is from Midsummer's Day."

  Joshi nodded. "In my clan, if a child is born in the winter, he or she is not named or even looked at by anyone beside his mother until the spring thaw happens. Too many babies die in the winter months. To anyone born in that dark time, the first full moon of spring is their true birthday. I was born in that period, but my mother followed imperial customs and traced my horoscope, so I always knew the night I was actually born." He sighed, thinking of her and her gentle lessons. Her face was dim. When he came back from Harupa, she had been gone, and his father refused to tell him how she had died. “There was a comet the week I was born,” he added. “My mother thought it was an omen of some sort. That I would never have a settled life. An easy prediction, for a child of a nomad clan.”

  “Perhaps it was something else,” Hiroko whispered. "Your life, so different from mine, and yet here we both are at this tower, part of the grand climb."

  He tensed. "You're not going to start another lecture on the Emperor's great design, are you?"

  "No," Hiroko said, and she smiled up at him sweetly. "I can tell the Hiroko in your head is already giving you that lecture, so I don't need to bother."

  Despite himself, Joshi laughed. Hiroko's faint smile broadened into something more real. For a moment, they stood there, staring at each other, and the skies overhead opened up with ribbons of lux. He felt an urge to reach out and touch her hand, but fought against it.

  Hiroko gasped. "The prisms are cracking lumos!" She raised a hand skyward. He could feel her drawing in the blue lux and opened his own paths, pulling in the pure light. There was no violet and very little indigo. He guessed the prisms were holding that back for themselves, but he drank deeply of the other colors, cycling them through his system.

  Joshi felt refreshed, and Hiroko looked ecstatic. Then he noticed what he hadn't before. "You've reached the Peak of Bodily Refinement!”

  "I did!” She turned to him and smiled. "Did Chang-li tell you?"

  "Chang-li knew?"

  "Well, yes," Hiroko frowned, her brow furrowing. "Grandmaster Noren took me into the tower, along with Chang-li and Lady Min. That's where I made my breakthrough."

  "Noren?" Joshi asked, feeling stupid.

  "Yes, he—" Hiroko's eyes flickered to the side. "He said that, as I was almost part of your sect, he would take me."

  Joshi felt his body tensing. There was no reason Chang-li should have mentioned it to him, he supposed, but he was annoyed that he hadn't.

  "Congratulations," he said stiffly, and Hiroko, her face fallen, nodded back.

  “Thank you. I should — that is, unless — Good evening, Joshi," Hiroko said, and slipped off back toward the party.

  Joshi stared after her, feeling as though he should have said or done something else, but what could he do differently? Hiroko was a willing part of the empire and the chains it put on cultivators, and he wanted no part of that. He did, however, want his tutoring, and it was nearly the appointed hour, so he turned his back on the crowd and went looking.