The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu Read Free Book Online Page B

my . . .”
    As Kuni pattered on to the consternation of the Xana administrator, he gestured at a waitress at the restaurant by the side of the road. The waitress, who knew very well who Kuni really was, tried to keep from smiling as she handed him paper and brush.
    â€œ. . . now how much did you say it was? Twenty-five? How about a bit of a discount? After all, I introduced you to the wonders of the braised eel! Twenty? . . .”
    Kuni wrote out a note that entitled the holder to redeem it at the Crukédori family’s house office for twenty silver pieces. He signed the note with a flourish and admired his own forgery. Then he inked a seal that he carried just for such occasions—it was so old and decrepit that the impression came out in a jumble and you could read anything you wanted in its lines—and pressed the seal against the paper.
    He sighed and handed the paper over reluctantly. “There you go. Just go over to my family and present it to the doorman when you have time. The servant will bring the money to you right away.”
    â€œWhy, Master Crukédori!” The administrator was all smiles and politeness when he saw the figure on the paper. A foolish and rich man like this Fin Crukédori was the best kind of local gentry to culti­vate. “I’m always glad to make a new friend. Why don’t we go and have a drink together?”
    â€œI thought you’d never ask,” Kuni said, and slapped the Imperial bureaucrat’s shoulder happily. “I didn’t bring any cash with me, though, since I’m just out to get some air. Next time I’ll invite you home for the braised eel, but this time, maybe I can borrow some. . . .”
    â€œNo problem, no problem at all. What are friends for?”
    As they walked away, Kuni stole a glance back at the old woman. She stood, mute and frozen, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Kuni thought she was probably too surprised and grateful to speak, and once more he was reminded of his mother. He blinked to clear his suddenly warm eyes, winked at her in reassurance, and turned around once more to joke with the corvée administrator.
    The woman’s son gently shook her by the shoulder. “Ma, let’s get going. We should leave town before that pig changes his mind.”
    The old woman seemed to waken from a dream.
    â€œYoung man,” she mumbled after the retreating figure of Kuni Garu, “you may act lazy and foolish, but I have seen your heart. A bright and tenacious flower will not bloom in obscurity.”
    Kuni was too far away to hear her.

    But a young woman, whose palanquin had stopped by the side of the road while the bearers went into the inn to fetch her a drink, heard the old woman’s words. By lifting a corner of the curtain on the palanquin window, she had taken in the whole scene, including Kuni’s final look back at the old woman and how his eyes had grown wet.
    She thought about the old woman’s words as a smile broke out on her pale white face. She played with a lock of her fiery red hair, and her slender eyes, shaped like the body of the graceful dyran, the rainbow-scaled, ribbon-tailed flying fish, stared into the distance. There was something about this young man who tried to do good without seeming to be too good. She wanted to know him better.

CHAPTER FOUR
    JIA MATIZA
    ZUDI: THE FIFTH MONTH IN THE TWENTY-FIRST YEAR OF THE REIGN OF ONE BRIGHT HEAVEN.
    A few days later, Kuni was back at the Splendid Urn to meet his closest friends—the band of young men had saved one another in bar brawls and gone to the indigo houses together.
    â€œKuni, when are you going to try to do something useful with your life?” Rin Coda asked. Still gangly and nervous, Rin made a living as a letter writer for the illiterate soldiers in the Xana garrison. “Every time I see your mother, she sighs and tells me to be a good friend and encourage you to