The canteen reminded Lance of the temples he had seen in picture books when he was young. Towering, stone walls rose to shadowed heights where thick timbers obscured most of the ceiling, and at the heart of the expanse was a massive clock with four faces. Each of them was oriented to face a cardinal point. A long pendulum hung from it, and swung back and forth a man height over the tallest servants heads, carving a channel down the center of the long hall. Narrow aisles ran between long benches throughout the space, and a window precluded a bronze counter behind which Janice, one of a few elder servants who still worked in the kitchens, served up plates of food to the various youth trickling in for an early breakfast before their shifts began. She had been with the palace staff so long the youth joked she must have started her career as a stone mason.

  The canteen was filled with the excited chatter of servants coming off the night crews when he arrived. Most of the gossip was about a coming state visit from the Sun Emperor, who would be in the city for the first time in a decade. A visit which was to happen at the beginning of the following month. With his visit so close, rumors swirled about his retinue of mirrhvalians, about the ruler himself, and some of those verged on the hysterical. The older servants spoke of his last visit with an air of self-importance, while the younger—whom had not been old enough to remember it—absorbed as much as they could take in of their tales.

  The emperor was one of nine creatures with near limitless power, a body of legendary figures called Immortals. The most mundane rumor about him was that he had lived for two millennia. For a boy of nineteen, or a man of forty-three, such a long life was nearly impossible to imagine. He would have seen everything from almost the time of the Sealing—when the one true god was imprisoned by his offspring—to the present day, having lived to witness nearly all of recorded history.

  The wilder rumors painted him like a character from the stories—like Boreas the Hero, or the Pirate Queen Anastasia. They told of an impossibly tall elf with eyes like fire or pure light, whose very voice called whatever room he entered to silence by some magic that went beyond ordinary reckoning, and who wore golden light as a shroud. He was a mysterious figure even to those who had been old enough to remember his last visit, was loved, perhaps, because he was mysterious.

  In the grand tradition of the Sun Empire, the Shadow Queen was his betrothed. In the modern era, that was Queen Meredith, the latest in a long line of politically necessary arranged marriages that saw Shadovane the crowned jewel of the empire’s thirteen wards. The tradition dated back almost to the city’s founding, to the first queen to hold the title, Alice the Reborn.

  Fingers lightly brushed Lance’s shoulder, bringing him out of his funk as he picked at his eggs. He had found, on sitting at one of the long benches which filled most of the hall, that he had very little appetite. He turned to find two familiar faces looking back at him, and smiled, his mood brightening at the sight of Sami and Ariana, two of his closest friends.

  “Long time no see, squirt.” Sami said.

  They set their trays down, blocking him in to either side as they took their seats.

  Sami was almost a decade older than he was, with sand-colored hair that she wore in a single tail down her back, a long face and hooded eyes that she sometimes shadowed with coal ash to draw attention away from the heavy bags under them.

  The other woman, Ariana, was just twenty, and already a sous in the kitchens under Mistress Dina. She had the tilted eyes and caramel skin tone common to harua people, of the unincorporated territories known collectively as the Free Lands.

  Many of the servants traced their lineages back to foreign places—to Juakali or Haru or Ozos, or the Imperial Borderlands around Aranor or Ash Island, or Morgrotten, the lake city the merenern were supposed to have originated from. It was anyone’s guess how they had ended up here.

  “I’ve been working a lot more, lately.” Lance said. “I think Lady Talmalsen intends to work me to death before my birthday.”

  “She does that to everyone when their time comes up.” Ariana said. “But it’ll be over soon, and then you’ll have your path and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  “Yeah.” Sami agreed over a mouthful of potatoes. She swallowed them down. “Everything’s easier once you’ve made your decision.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  “Were you nervous before you chose your path?” Lance asked, extending a searching look to both of them.

  Ariana took his hand in hers. “Of course, I was. I wasn’t fucking sure I’d made the right decision until about a month after I started. Peter was a big help, but you can’t really be sure you chose right until you get into the rhythm of things.”

  “Really?” Sami cocked an eyebrow. “You weren’t sure about your path? You? The queen of the carpaccio?”

  “Fuck off.” Ariana grumbled. “Being good at a thing doesn’t mean you want to spend your whole life doing it.”

  “Well, hopefully, I make the right decision, then.” Lance said.

  “Sky Lord’s mercy, they didn’t fuck the food up that bad, did they?” Ariana glanced pointedly at Lance’s plate. Most of his food was still untouched.

  “No.” Lance said. “I’m just not very hungry.”

  Sami snorted. “The only time you refuse to eat is when you’re dwelling on something. Out with it.”

  Ariana eyed him like a hawk might a rabbit. “It is sort of shitty timing, isn’t it? Your choosing a path on the heels of the emperor’s arrival. I suppose it is your first time.”

  “First time.” Lance mused sardonically. “It’s my first time for something anyway.”

  Ariana’s expression turned quizzical. She exchanged a look with Sami.

  “This isn’t about the emperor or your path, is it?” Sami said knowingly.

  “It’s about a boy, actually.” Lance said. “He kind of…well, anyway, it doesn’t matter. I messed it all up.”

  “Is he cute?” Sami asked.

  “Does it matter?” Lance replied, meeting her eye.

  “That’s a yes.” Ariana said to Sami. “Look. He’s even blushing!”

  “No, I’m not.” Lance protested, though he could feel the burn in his cheeks and across his forehead.

  “Well, did you ask the fucker out or not?” Ariana said.

  “No.” Lance said. “But I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that and—”

  "Lance.” Sami cut in. “Hear me out. He’s probably just as inexperienced as you are, and I doubt he’s trying to get in your pants. If he was trying to do that, it would have been much easier to invite you up to the Teacher’s Tower or to ask you to meet him in a supply closet off the tunnels. Not as many opportunities to be interrupted that way, you know?”

  Ariana looked at Sami like a new animal. “You have some experience with this, don’t you?”

  Sami waved her off. “A little.”

  “Maybe just don’t think about it.”

  “But—”

  Sami raised an eyebrow at Ariana.

  Lance took a bite of his toast.

  “Worst case, you just imagine Lord Bran’s pock-ridden five-head if you see him again. And take the fucking shot next time, loser. He might even say yes.” Ariana said.

  Lance choked. “Lord Bran’s five-head?”

  “That’s what Peter told me he thinks about when he needs a boner to go away.” Ariana shrugged.

  “Your boyfriend’s a masochist.” Sami said. “Lord Bran’s forehead is quite the canvas. Where is Peter, anyway?”

  “Working.” Ariana replied. “He drew the short straw, so Mistress Dina made him open the kitchen. He’ll be done in a couple hours.”

  Lance looked at the clock face on his side of the boxy chandelier in the middle of the canteen.

  Ariana eyed him suspiciously. “You’re gonna try to pull the late card so you can ditch us before we get back to talking about this boy, aren’t you?”

  She forked some eggs into her mouth, and spit them out as soon as she had.

  “What was that for?” Sami asked.

  “Too much salt.” Ariana growled. “The damned things taste like a sweaty ballsack!”

  She slid off the bench, took two steps in the direction of the kitchen window where Janice was still passing out trays of food, turned around.

  “You’ll get another chance.” Ariana said. “Just take it next time, okay?”

  “That’s not your decision.” Sami pointed out.

  “The Pits if it isn’t.” She said, glancing at Sami before turning her full attention on Lance. “If I have to drag you all the way from your barracks to the Core by your earlobes, you’re gonna do it. Do we understand each other?”

  “Sure.” Lance said.

  Ariana had that look in her eye. She wasn’t going to let it go, and he knew it. The last thing he wanted was a shouting match in the middle of the canteen, which is exactly what he would get if he didn’t go along with her thinking.

  “I’ll try.” He said.

  “Good.” She stalked off toward the serving window. A few moments talk with Janice produced a boy about the same age as Ariana, and a kitune dressed in a black chef’s coat. Some choice words and chopping gestures from Ariana saw the poor boy reduced almost to tears. The kitune, her boyfriend, patted his back, exchanged a few more words with Ariana, and led him back into the kitchen.

  “Don’t mind her.” Sami said.

  “We should plan on a game of stones soon. Peter and Ariana might even be able to get Mistress Dina to give them some wine.”

  “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  “I’ve got to go, though. The armory’s been swamped with orders for repairs and polishing all week.”

  “Has it now?”

  “It has.” She slid off the bench with her empty tray in both hands. “You’d be amazed at how many soldiers think they’re going to be allowed within viewing distance of the emperor.”

  “They won’t be?”

  “If it goes anything like last time, the only ones that will see him are the Bloodless and the Council of Liam. See you, Lance.”

  “See you.” Lance waved her off, feeling much better than he had on entering the canteen, more sure of himself by far.

  He looked to the window, wondering how Peter had ever let something so bad hit the pass.