EIGHT
"What ails you, Little Fish?"
Yun turned in surprise to find his mother standing in the doorway to his apartment. She hadn't called him that name for a very long time.
He dropped his brush on the table. "It seems I cannot write poetry any more."
The Empress waved her hand airily. "Who can? It is a fine thing for a boy to play with, but you are a man now. A man who has been to war, and come back alive. Not many can say that." She eyed the drawings scattered across the table.
Yun rushed to cover the corpses, but it was too late. His mother had seen all. "Forgive me, Mother. These are not something an empress should see."
"It's not something anyone should see," she said. "What you need is a distraction."
Yun wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. What in the world had h
