"Dragon's blessing," all the other men murmured, giving full salutes at the mention of Mott's name.
Lynx resisted the urge to make a vomiting sound. As soon as the rumble died down, she said, "Visiting with you helps us pass the time, Lieutenant Olec. You have to admit the last five days have been mind-bendingly dull." She pointed to the jasper next to Olec's eye. "Your stone is so . . . striking. What does it signify? You all wear them, so it can't just mean rank, the way General Avanov's ruby does."
Lieutenant Olec rubbed the jasper. "No, indeed, Your Highness. Our stones give-"
A guardsman poked his head around the door. "Ah! Here you are, Your Highness." He stepped into the room and bowed. "Lunch has been served. I will accompany you to the dining car."
Lynx sighed, barely hiding her frustration. "Thank you, Corporal Telev. Yet another meal. It's all we seem to do."
"Better than starving, ma'am," Lieutenant Olec grinned, showing his terrible teeth.
"I can always rely on you to see the bright side, Lieutenant." Lynx nodded at the men. "Until later, then."
* * *
Lynx slid open the door to the dining car. Only Kestrel, her uncle, and the priestess had gathered for the meal. She wondered if Avanov and Zarot would deign to join them.
Unlikely.
They seemed to find other things to do during the day, only appearing at dinner. Avanov hadn't renewed his invitation to play dice with her.
Her uncle beamed when he saw her. "Lynx! Come, join us, please do." He patted the chair next to him.
What were the she-witch and Kestrel talking about that he was so eager for her company? She sat next to him to listen and pulled a serving bowl of food over to her plate.
"-amazed when you see the palace," the priestess said to Kestrel. "It has over a thousand rooms! Each magnificently decorated with the finest furnishings and silk-"
"You mean more red, gold, and black," Lynx interrupted. She waved a serving spoon covered in mashed potatoes at the walls to make her point.
Mother Saskia took a moment to glare at Lynx and turned back to Kestrel. "Through the ages, great artists like Gustave, Taim, and Naxor have all had a hand in beautifying your new home. I can assure you, their tastes include more than red, black, and gold."
Lynx smiled at Kestrel's blank expression as she helped herself to a dollop of stewed venison with vegetables. The names, obviously hallowed in Chenayan art circles, meant nothing to her sister, despite her claims to be an artist.
The priestess clicked her tongue. "Oh, there is so much for you to learn, Princess." She tucked a strand of Kestrel's hair behind her ear.
Despite the she-witch torching her book, Kestrel didn't seem to mind. In fact, she leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I-I might not know the names of all your artists, but I can paint. I do, all the time. Animals and birds, mainly. It's one of the reasons I'm so excited to get to the palace."
"A talent! How wonderful. I'll inform the relevant people as soon as we arrive. I promise it won't take long until you're given all the materials you need to create your masterpieces."
Lynx glanced at her uncle and wondered what else would be revealed about her and Kestrel at that debriefing. He raised his eyebrows and nodded. Perhaps he understood her silent communication.
"Oh, Mother, that would be perfect." Kestrel's face flushed, and her voice trilled with anticipation. "And a master painter to teach me? Would that be possible? Nothing would make me happier."
Lynx leaned forward. "Those thousand rooms . . . who lives in them? I didn't stay at the palace long enough to find out."
It took Mother Saskia a minute to grasp the gist of her question. "The high-born, of course. All the elite and their children are privileged to live at the palace. Emperor Mott, Dragon's blessing upon him, insists they live with him, so he can lavish them with luxury and comfort."
A gilded cage. Mott kept them there to stop them from plotting against him. Lynx studied the she-witch through hooded lids. Do you believe your own propaganda?
The priestess's face betrayed none of her thoughts.
"A thousand rooms stuffed with Chenayans," Lynx said, the offense intentional. "That sounds cloying and unpleasant."
The priestess's throat bobbed, and her fingers gripping the table whitened. "Hardly, my dear princess. As I'm sure you are aware, there are only fifteen families that matter in the empire. Apart from the Avanovs, of course. They are the high-born, the men who serve on the High Council, assisting the emperor with the running of the empire. We call them the Fifteen, and it is they and their families who occupy those apartments."
"That seems like a lot of rooms to go around," Kestrel squealed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Mother Saskia had excluded her own family from the families that mattered. "And Prince Tao, does he have a large-"
"Do you belong to one of the Fifteen, Mother Saskia?" Lynx drowned out Kestrel's question.
Now Kestrel glared at her. Lynx ignored it, sickened at how quickly her sister adjusted to the promise of Chenayan luxury.
The priestess repositioned her perfectly positioned veil before replying. "Of course not, Princess Lynx. No priestess can claim to come from a high-born family."
"Then how do you become a priestess? You've mentioned, repeatedly, that you hold an elevated position in Chenaya."
A flicker of pride darted across Mother Saskia's face. "I was blessed by birth to be a priestess. Just like my eldest brother was privileged to serve in the military. My current position is the result of my devotion to the Dragon." She swallowed hard. "My brother recently lost his life, leading a platoon of troops in Treven. We were close."
Lynx was aware Mott had invaded Treven. Due to the usual dearth of news from Cian, she had no idea how the conflict was going. She supposed she should offer the woman some condolences, but nothing in their interaction inclined her to sprout platitudes. "Was he a foot soldier?"
"Of course not, Princess! He wasn't a common grunt. That's the lot of third- and fourth-born sons. My eldest brother wore an imperial guardsman's jasper, just as I was given the priestess's moonstone at birth."
"Yes. I was wondering about your stone. I saw it pulse when you shocked me. Was that just my imagination?"
The priestess's pursed lips resembled a prune. "Our stones are a blessing bestowed by our beloved emperor. It is very bad form to question people about them."
"So I didn't imagine it. How did it shock me?"
Uncle Bear's hand drifted to her knee and squeezed it. She flashed him a smile and looked expectantly at the she-witch.
Someone cleared his throat, making Lynx look up.
Colonel Stefan Zarot stood next to Mother Saskia's chair.
Lynx hadn't seen or heard him approach. She cursed inwardly at yet another interruption just as she was getting somewhere with her investigation.
"Colonel," Mother Saskia tittered, her relief evident. "You require me?"
"I do." He pulled back the she-witch's chair.
Mother Saskia almost danced after him.
"Oh, that's sad," Kestrel said. "I was enjoying talking to her." She dropped her knife and fork on her plate. "Everything on this train is so boring."
Lynx suddenly saw the bright side to the priestess's desertion. "I think it's just livened up." She gestured around the dining car, deserted except for the three of them. "We can finally have a private discussion with Uncle Bear. I am sure you must have questions for him."
"I hardly think Uncle Bear will be able to satisfy my concerns." Kestrel giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, but I don't suppose you're interested in dresses and palace gossip."
Uncle Bear gave her a thin smile. "My dear, I am an emissary. I live and breathe palace gossip."
"Ooh. Then tell me about Tao. Is he handsome? I love dark hair. Please, please, please tell me he takes after the Chenayan side of his family and has dark hair."
A flicker of worry darted across Uncle Bear's face. "Prince Tao is a very respectable young man. He is known for his kindness and generosity to the low-born. I'm sure you will find him most pleasing." He turned to Lynx. "You have questions."
"A million, so I hardly know where to start."
"Let me help you, then." Uncle Bear waved his hand at Kestrel and Lynx, drawing them in. When the three of them were huddled close, he whispered in Norin, "I must tell you about the Dreaded. They're-"