I did not sleep.
This was not unusual. I had spent nine lifetimes cultivating the ability to lie still while my mind ran through every possible outcome, every path that led to survival and every path that led to the alternative. I was very good at being awake in the dark.
What was unusual was that Kaien was awake too.
I heard him before I saw him — the quiet sound of footsteps in the adjoining corridor, unhurried and deliberate, the particular rhythm of someone who has also given up on sleep and decided to be honest about it. The door connecting our chambers was not locked. I had noticed this when I arrived. I suspected he had noticed it too.
He knocked.
I said, "Come in."
He came in.
He was dressed simply — no court robes, no formal bearing — just a plain dark robe, his hair loosely tied, looking less like the Prince of the Left and more like a man who had been sitting with something heavy and needed somewhere to put it down.
