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I outlined it for her: regrow the darkest parts of the forest, trap Kacha and his men in them, and let the forest do what we didn’t have the manpower to do. It felt even more impossible now that we had no idea where Kacha or the rest of his men were. I’d managed to eliminate the forces that he had at the edge of the forest, waiting for Tallu’s retreat, but that was only half his men. The ones who had attacked the camp were gone, mist in the hot bright sun.

Koque stood, the only sign of her agitation the way that she crossed the room to the door, checking the walkways to make sure that we were alone.

“You seek to return Tavornai to its old form,” she said to Tallu. “When it was all forest and wilds.”

“It was a deal I struck with General Namati,” Tallu prevaricated. “It was the only way to ensure that we have the forces we need to retake the Imperium. Tavornai would still be under our rule.”

His voice was firm, making it seem logical and understandable. But Koque moved her arm sharply, bracelets ringing together, her clothing drawing colors through the air in the dim light.

Spider had whispered something to Koque when she told us the truth about the prophecy given to Tallu’s great-grandfather by the dragon seers.

Neither Spider nor Koque had told us what her future was, and wanting to know clawed at my skin like sleeping in a bed filled with bugs. I had a feeling that that prophecy was changing her behavior in ways I didn’t understand.

“It is a good plan,” Koque said. She glanced down the walkway again. “Returning Tavornai to its old form will allow the elves to begin to regrow. And as they do so, it will only enrich the Imperium.” She reached for the orchid, her fingers brushing the leaves. “These flowers cannot grow if there are no trees.”

“What would you do, if you were emperor?” I asked, the question suddenly very important.

Koque’s eyes went wide, but her breathing stayed steady. She dropped her gaze back to the delicate flower. It was a glowing white, lined with veins that shifted color between moments.

“If I were emperor…” Koque considered. “Your father would sometimes ask me that question.”

Tallu exhaled, and when I looked over at him, his smile was slightly rueful. “He would ask, but it would have been dangerous to answer.”

“The emperor desires no counsel, requires no advice. His word is final, his decisions absolute.” Koque pinched the stem of the flower hard, tearing it free from its place on the tree. “If there is a word for god in the Imperium, it is emperor. And yet you let your consort speak for you. You let him make plans.”

“I have found his counsel is wise,” Tallu said. “Is it wrong to listen to others in the manner of my mother?”

His words were weighted, and Koque reacted by turning toward him, crushing the orchid in her hand. She stared at him, the woman who had acted as his mother for more than half of his life, knowing that his words could have referred to her or Empress Tasaro.

“It is not the way of a god,” Koque said pointedly.

“Do you think even the One Dragon refused to listen to cogent advice? Perhaps she did not heed it when it was offered, and that is why she was able to be killed,” Tallu said. “I will make no such mistakes.”

Koque opened her hand, stained by the crushed orchid. She put the remains on a nearby table, wiping her hand with a handkerchief.

“Empress, if you had my title, what would you do?” Tallu asked. “When Airón first told me of his plan, I told him to seek you out. There is one person I would trust to bring it to fruition, one person I would trust with the heavy weight of convincing enemies of the Imperium to act for us.”

“If I had your title…” Koque considered her words, her closed lips moving just enough that I could see she was trying out different phrases before she settled on one. “Three generations of emperors have sought to crush any differences, to punish any who dare whisper in a different language. Two nations have already been destroyed, their resources lost until the wars with the other nations are won and we have the ability to put soldiers in crop fields and mines. And what do we have to show for it? Two generals who want nothing more than to kill you. A third so in love with the nation he has besieged that he would risk his honor to be allowed rule of it.”

Tallu’s eyes were fixed on Koque, and I found it difficult to take a full breath. She was so close to our opinion, so close to seeing what we did, but there was something in her words that held me back from announcing our position.

“The emperor must win against his own people before turning back to the unconquered lands. Bemishu and Kacha must be made examples of. They cannot live through the end of the year. They cannot live through the end of the month. And any who helped them, any who supplied them resources must be killed along with their entire families.” Koque stopped scrubbing at her hand. “However, turning your attention toward them requires some self-rule in the unconquered lands. Your attention must not waver. You cannot be distracted by an enemy at your back. Let Tavornai and its children begin to trust you. When they do, they will more easily take your hand when you come to show them the ways of the Imperium. A nation of children and pirates cannot rule itself forever. Even with the knowledge of the elder trees, they will need support. And with the resources we can give them, you can demand loyalty and obedience.”

I could not tear my eyes away from her. There was a relentlessness to the way she spoke, an unyielding understanding of the world.

Tallu nodded his chin. “My father would have insisted on doing both—subjugating Tavornai and pursuing the rebel generals at the same time.”

“Emperor Millu was narrow-minded in his pursuit of fulfilling the promise.” Koque looked down, lowering herself into a bow. “I hope that my counsel has been of value to you.”

“It always is,” Tallu said.

“There is a saying in the north,” I said. “Men might build a house, but women build a city.”

Koque rose, her eyes considering as she looked at me. “I am not sure I take your meaning. The emperor in his glory has built Tavornai from nothing. If he allows me to express my opinion, I hope it is only to further his glory. Now, should I take you on the promised tour?”

Tallu nodded once, and Koque swept out, pulling us into her wake. As we walked, I saw more evidence that my initial assumption had been correct. The children all fawned over her.

They were orphans, and she was as close to a mother as they had ever met. They offered her flowers and other gifts from the forest. She accepted them all with the warmest of smiles, making slight suggestions to each child. Perhaps they should add a second room to their small houses. Would the elder tree not have the knowledge they needed to grow crops free from disease? Could they not grow even more thorny bushes to guard the path so that any marching army would pay dearly to walk it?