Present
The last cascade of tiny bells were pinned to Koida’s elaborate hair dressing just as the war horns became audible. The sound meant her father and his entourage were passing through Boking Iri, the empire’s capital city, just down the Horned Serpent River from the Sun Palace.
Koida clutched her blood-orange shoulder wrap with one hand and the hem of her blue-green silk robes with the other as she sprinted from her residences. The bell cascades were meant to stay silent, proof of her impeccable poise and grace, but they jangled like a troupe of dancers at her father’s yearly birth celebration as she ran through the corridors.
In the north gallery of the palace, just inside the doorway to the main courtyard, Koida slid to a halt, stilled the ringing bells in her hair, smoothed her train and sleeves, and slowed her heaving breath. Composed but for a slight flush in her cheeks, she stepped out into the courtyard.
Most of the nobility already lined the golden stairs and were watching the massive gates that stood open to the north. Their finery painted the courtyard in the bright colors of a lush garden.
Near the top of the stairs, as befit his bestowed station, Yoichi stood with his hands tucked into plum-colored robes that matched his eyes. He, too, had changed clothing since their meeting in the tower that morning, though it looked as if his change had been much less rushed. He nodded to her, then adjusted the left shoulder of his robe meaningfully.
Koida hurried to pull the slipping wrap back onto her bare shoulders. Yoichi smiled his wry smile and returned his attention to the gates.
Outside the palace gates, a raucous cheer went up, and the war horns blasted another growling bass note that echoed through the valley. In the distance, Koida could see a great throng of riders, the blood-orange Shyong San banners fluttering overhead. Though she’d seen the same sight many times since birth, her heart leapt. Somewhere near the front of that churning mass of horses and soldiers were her father and sister. They were finally home again.
As the entourage approached the palace, Koida raised her arms in the ceremonial return greeting pose—chin high, eyes forward, elbows away from her sides, palms open to receive her Emperor and his armies back into their home.
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The bannermen rode through the gates first, followed by the horn bearers. Mounted soldiers came next and pulled up on either side of the gate, creating an equine tunnel.
When Koida caught sight of her sister’s personal guard, all wearing Shingti’s Green Dragonfly armor, she had to fight to keep the grin from her lips.
Shingti galloped in behind them to the deafening cheers of noble, soldier, and servant alike. The first princess was powerful and strong, the youngest master of the Path of the Living Blade in nearly a century, and beloved by all her subjects for the honor she brought to the empire. Her long brown hair whipped over her shoulder, and her purple eyes flashed as she wheeled her half-demon destrier and reared him up onto his back legs. Like the mounted soldiers, Shingti and her Dragonfly Guard lined both sides of the courtyard, completing the tunnel to the palace stairs.
The Emperor’s guard trotted into the courtyard next, their blood-orange plumage shifting in the breeze. The men dismounted and dropped to their knees. With equal pageantry, their warhorses—trimmed in blood-orange tack and bearing the Emperor’s crest—each bent a front leg and lowered their long heads toward the ground.
Last of all, in the position of greatest honor, Emperor Hao rode in on his aging chestnut destrier, another half-demon hybrid. His blood-orange armor glinted fire in the sunset as he walked his horse up to the steps.
Koida brought her palms together and bowed to her father, keeping her head motionless to avoid ringing the cascades of bells.
“Exalted Emperor,” she intoned, her voice ringing off the walls, “the Sun Palace welcomes you into its embrace. May your mighty Ro fill its halls with glory once more.”
“Daughter, you have kept the palace alive in my absence.”
With a thrust of his gauntleted fist, Emperor Hao manifested a glistening ruby scepter crowned with wicked spikes and extended it to Koida. She rose from the formal pose at his invitation, her part in the ceremony complete.
Emperor Hao turned his horse to face the gathered crowd. “After a brave fight on the field of battle, the Wung tribe honorably surrendered! We feast this night in celebration of the enlightenment and peace the Shyong San Empire has brought to a new tribe!”
Nearly everyone in the courtyard cheered. Several of the soldiers threw their helmets into the air, Shingti included.
As the ceremony ended, palace servants scurried inside to finish preparations for the feast, commoners hurried back to Boking Iri and the surrounding farms to recount the story to their families, and weary soldiers either started their trips home or dismounted and led their horses to the stables. Nobles pressed forward to the Emperor and first princess, all hoping to offer the first congratulations and make certain everyone noticed them paying homage.
Koida slipped back into palace. She wanted to talk to her sister and father, but she would never get near them in the swarm. She would greet them privately when their attentions were undivided.