Back at the imperial palace, Atar began shedding his clothes layer by layer. Haran, the escort knight who had followed him straight in, silently gathered his lord’s clothes.
“How was it?” Haran asked politely. Atar loosened his sash with a bored look.
“Below expectations. A shabby creature.”
“Is that so. I thought it pleased you.”
“We’ll see. That fellow from Aruna is full of hot air,” Atar said, clicking his tongue.
A gift of the goddess, indeed. The way the man had bragged and wheedled, Atar had to restrain himself from plucking out his mustache hair by hair to use as kindling. Many flatter to catch the emperor’s eye, but lying to win favor was another matter. Atar bared his teeth in a grin, recalling the pale, glowing face of the young man. A low murmur echoed through the bedchamber.
“If that fellow is no gift of the goddess, the principality will answer for it.”
***
The second morning of the festival. Da-on woke to an unwelcome visitor in his room. Rough hands hauled the sleeping man upright. Da-on flinched awake. Still half-asleep, he saw several delegation members standing there, Tashishi among them. It was before dawn. In the dark room, the candlelight threw deep shadows over Tashishi’s face.
“Wh-what’s going on? At this hour…”
The bewildered Da-on was yanked up again. Perched awkwardly on his bedding, he staggered to his feet. It might have been the shadows, but Tashishi’s face looked fierce. The cold dawn air struck his blanket-warmed body. Da-on shivered and waited for Tashishi to state his business.
“The delegations enter in five hours. Get ready.”
“M-me?” Tashishi pressed his lips together and nodded. The needlessly solemn mood kept Da-on from asking more; he followed them out.
The delegation dragged him to a great bath and dunked him in the water. Bewildered, Da-on soaked in the hot water and scrubbed himself with all sorts of perfumed oils and soaps.
“Well well, skin softer than any woman’s.”
“What on earth are you saying!”
“Just jealous — you’ve clearly never done a day of hard labor,” said one member he had gotten friendly with, chuckling. Da-on bristled and opened his mouth to retort, but a scream came out first at the vigorous scrubbing.
“Owww! That hurts!”
“Hold on a little! You’re a man, stop whining.”
Only after being scrubbed until his skin flushed red was Da-on allowed out of the bath. His tingling body reeked of flowers. The food had been full of spices, and even washing meant being doused in perfume, apparently. These damn sand people.
As he was being dried, members brought all kinds of cloth. Fine fabrics were draped over his still-warm body.
“Hold on… how many layers are you putting on me?!” Da-on, who had stayed still while a couple of cloths were layered on, finally cried out.
“It’s a banquet before His Majesty. It’s not at all excessive,” said a member wrapping translucent silk along his shoulders.
“This isn’t excessive…?”
“It’s not uncomfortable, is it?”
“Well… no, it’s not.” Da-on clicked his tongue and meekly spread his arms. The cloths were all as thin as hair, so moving wasn’t uncomfortable. And just as light. But why was only he being dressed up like this? Wouldn’t a delegation dress alike before the emperor? Puzzled, Da-on soon concluded they were dressing him because he didn’t know how to wear the clothes, and let it go.
Finally a sleeve garter was fastened on his upper arm. A sturdy, fine-quality garter made of animal hide. The billowing cloth at his upper body was neatly arranged by the garter. Much better, Da-on muttered, looking himself over.
By the time all preparations were done, the morning sun was just rising. How many hours did this take? Da-on plopped down with a fed-up look. A slender-fingered female member glided toward him.
“This is really the last one,” she whispered, draping a translucent cloth over his head.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a veil for Corax.”
“Huh?” The member said no more and left.
Made of a special material, Da-on could see out, but no one outside could see his face. Around then, a bad feeling began to creep in. This was clearly not delegation attire. It looked more like the high nobles’ dress he had seen around the banquet hall yesterday. And with the banquet about to start, the members were still relaxed. None of them had scrubbed themselves and applied perfumed oil, or wrapped themselves in cloths so no skin showed.
“Why only me?”
He watched the bustling members with unease. The members seemed to be preparing tribute, gathering the goods brought across the desert. Frowning in thought, Da-on approached them.
“Can I help?”
“You’ll ruin your clothes. Sit and rest.” His offer was refused at once.
The treatment was strange no matter how he thought about it. While Da-on watched and racked his brains, the delegation finished all preparations.
“Move out!” Tashishi called the members together in a loud voice. The assembled members formed ranks. Da-on hesitated, then stood at the head of the ranks, beside Tashishi.
“Um…” Tashishi wore the familiar dress of the Aruna Principality. He tilted his head toward Da-on as the ranks set off.
“I know what you want to ask, but you’ll learn in time.”
“Yes…” Da-on, not even noticing that Tashishi — who had always talked down to him — was now speaking politely, just hurried to keep pace.
The veil clung to his mouth at the slightest rough breath. Da-on adjusted the uncomfortable veil and glanced around. The crowd heading to the banquet hall was enormous. Unlike yesterday, when he had strolled the palace relatively freely, every delegation wore their own traditional dress. No one anywhere was dressed like Da-on. In all this formality, he was the most formal of all. The closer they got, the bigger his unease grew. It felt like crawling into a lion’s open jaws.
Even the soldiers who had so thoroughly barred his entry yesterday now lowered their spears and opened the banquet hall doors. Da-on swallowed hard and followed the delegation inside.
Aruna’s seats were midway down the long banquet hall. So Aruna didn’t rank that high? Their grand-looking spot wasn’t that close to the emperor’s seat. He took his seat. Tashishi, sitting beside him, straightened his rumpled clothes.
“You’d best sit up straight. Don’t offend His Majesty’s eyes.”
“Ah, yes.” Da-on answered carelessly and made a show of straightening up.
To Da-on’s right — not the left where Tashishi sat — a member he had spent a lot of time with fidgeted restlessly. Squirming in his seat and sweating, he finally couldn’t stand it and tapped Da-on’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” At Da-on’s questioning look, the member sighed repeatedly.
“Ugh. Do you know why you’re sitting here?”
“Why? As part of the delegation, obviously…” As Da-on answered in confusion, his mouth snapped shut. Something was off. The member looked at him pityingly.
“You know why our delegation came to Quantara, right?” To present tribute, of course. That was the delegation’s purpose. Da-on stared at him. Behind them came Tashishi’s rough breathing, as if displeased. The member raised a finger and pointed at Da-on.
“You. You’re the tribute.”
“…What?” Da-on’s mouth fell slightly open.
Why he alone wore these cumbersome clothes, why the friendly members were so formal today, why all these uneasy eyes kept landing on him. Every question clicked into place like puzzle pieces.
Da-on dazedly grabbed the veil with one hand. He yanked it hard, messing the carefully arranged hair and baring his face.
“Wait, calm down!”
“Let go! How can I not be upset?!” The member gripped Da-on’s arm tight as he tried to bolt up.
He had believed their unconditional kindness too readily. Well, with his life at stake he had had no choice but to take the hand offered — but he had followed the delegation even after reaching the city because he trusted them! Da-on glared at Tashishi, grinding his teeth in betrayal.
“What the hell is this supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Tashishi answered the sharp question calmly. Not the attitude of a man trafficking people. Speechless, Da-on’s mouth worked. It felt like every delegation in the hall was watching.
“Lower your voice. Many ears are listening.” Tashishi lowered his voice, feigning calm. Da-on swallowed his boiling anger and opened his eyes wide, livid. Tashishi gripped his shoulder hard. Pain throbbed through his shoulder.
“His Majesty dislikes commotion. If he’d seen that, your head would roll.”
“……!”
“The tribute list is already drawn up. You could storm out of the hall — but remember that all our lives are at stake.” Tashishi murmured in a near-growl. Da-on felt the members watching him, trembling with anxiety.
“That’s a threat…” Da-on’s face went pale. A threat that he was free to leave, but if he did, dozens of people would die. Guilt he had no reason to carry. Yet knowing that, Da-on lowered his head meekly. Tashishi tidied the rumpled veil and draped it back over him. Da-on glared fiercely at the veil blocking his sight.
Nowhere to go, nothing to do. In cold helplessness, Da-on pressed his cold fingertips together.
Tribute presented to the emperor. He couldn’t wrap his head around the role. A pretty girl, maybe — but a gloomy-faced ordinary man like him? Why him of all people? Because he had appeared out of nowhere in the desert? Could that alone make him so special? Questions chased one another. His heart tightened with tension. But his greatest fear was something else.
“The tyrant…” The one waiting for him was that tyrant emperor. A ruler who killed innocent people for fun and ignored his ruined people — if that wasn’t a tyrant, what was? Da-on couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the target offered in place of the whole delegation. He trembled in fear for who knew how long. Then a soldier’s booming voice rang out.
“His Majesty arrives!”
Da-on flinched and clenched both fists. He buried his already-bowed head even deeper. His straining fingertips trembled. Rustling all around as people straightened their posture. Right then, Tashishi whispered to Da-on. Their last chance for a private word.
“Endure, however miserable, however hateful. I’ll get you out of the palace at the right time. For now, think of it as a play and hold on.” Tashishi’s voice was cold. Da-on chewed his lip and stole a glance toward the inner hall where all eyes were gathering.
There was no choice left to him. His head went cold as if doused with cold water. Being promised escape was a relief, but Da-on had no intention of being used without a word. He pressed his lips close to Tashishi’s ear.
“…Promise me a place to live and a minimum standard of living.”
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