Beyond the Palace Walls
Laniakea lifted her head.
The long avenue was packed with people, every color of hair and every race mingled together, until it seemed the whole world might have gathered in this single place. Nor was it only the crowd. Shops lined both sides of the street without end, every manner of goods spread out on display.
"Oh...!"
A gasp of pure, unfeigned wonder escaped her. So this is the world beyond the Imperial Palace. Faced at last with the capital as it truly was, Laniakea could not bring herself to close her mouth.
It was not, strictly speaking, the first time she had seen the street. When she first came to the Empire, the carriage had passed this way. But the moment she tried to look more closely, the Empress Dowager's maid had yanked the inner curtain shut, asking whether it did not disgust her to be gawked at by the lowborn.
And so a stolen glance on the way into the capital was all Laniakea had ever seen of it—that, and the view from the bell tower inside the palace. The capital and the palace stood so far apart, though, that the people passing below had looked smaller than ants. Small enough that she had never even known what the shops along the street were selling. All that registered was how vast the imperial capital was, beyond any comparison with Priatra.
Now the streets she had always longed to see lay open before her eyes.
Laniakea stood in a daze and looked around her. Clothing shops, shoe shops, bedding shops, carpet shops. Every stall was heaped with goods, and the owners clapped their hands and shouted, hawking without pause at everyone who passed. Between the customers, vendors threaded through selling simple snacks, and dogs and cats trotted after them in hope that some kind soul might toss them a scrap.
It was the sort of clamor a noble would have called vulgar and turned away from, but Laniakea could not look away. She drank the whole scene in.
Then the arm of a man hurrying past struck her.
Thud!
The impact sent her staggering hard, but someone caught her, and she managed not to fall.
"Watch where you're walking!"
The man who had hit her glanced her over and clicked his tongue. Far from apologizing, he raised his voice as if she were the nuisance, then grumbled his way off into the crowd and vanished.
Startled, Laniakea stared after him. Only then did she realize who had caught her, and she spoke in a rush.
"Thank you... Your Ma— no. Leon."
She had nearly called him Your Majesty out of habit, then remembered they had agreed she would call him Leon outside the palace, and corrected herself at once.
Hyperion, who had been glaring after the vanished man, let the hardness leave his face and offered a faint smile.
"There are too many people. Let's step a little aside, Rania."
Just as she had agreed to call him Leon, he had agreed to call her Rania. Both of their true names were uncommon, but names drawn from a piece of them were scattered everywhere throughout the Empire.
The moment they slipped into a back alley where fewer people came and went, Hyperion looked her over.
"Were you hurt where he struck you?"
"It only sounded worse than it was. More than that—this is truly amazing."
As she spoke, Laniakea looked at the bracelet on her wrist. A thin silver chain set with a blue gem, far too plain for an empress's wrist—crude, even. But if one judged by worth, isn't this the most expensive bracelet in the entire palace?
Like the crown, it was an object layered with protective magic. And with good reason.
"To think it carries a recognition-obscuring spell. I thought things like that existed only in history books."
Among the imperial treasures, several were famous in history. Chief among them was the crown, which could not leave the palace and was bound with a spell of return. The throne that only the emperor might sit upon was equally renowned. There was also a sword said to cut only beasts, and the quill commissioned by the fourth emperor—who had despised paperwork—that signed documents of its own accord.
Among such things, one treasure appeared often in histories and novels alike, and it was the bracelet now circling Laniakea's wrist. Its name was almost too honest: the Bracelet of Disguise. Worn, it cast a magic that kept those nearby from properly recognizing one's face. The first emperor commissioned it from the mage tower, they said, so he could go out and inspect the city beyond the castle walls.
There were two in all, one for the emperor and one for the empress. Yet at some point the histories of the Empire mentioned the bracelets only in passing—that they had once existed—and no further record remained. The emperors of successive reigns deliberately made them seem lost, so they could use them often. And so the people of the Empire believed the magic had unraveled and the bracelets had vanished. In truth, they remained perfectly intact.
The first time she put one on, Lucy, standing beside her, had jumped in shock. Asked why, Lucy said she knew it was Laniakea, but the face would not stay in her memory—like failing to recall someone who had just brushed past on a crowded street.
Startled, Laniakea took the bracelet off. This time Hyperion put it on, and in that instant she was every bit as astonished as Lucy had been. The face of the man standing right in front of her had gone blurred. No matter how many times she looked, it would not remain in her memory.
That was not the only marvel. Laniakea lifted her gaze to him. Now both of them wore the bracelets, and still she could see his face clearly. The recognition-obscuring magic, it seemed, did not work on anyone who was wearing a bracelet herself. What a convenient thing. She understood why the emperors had hushed it up and hidden it away.
"But where are we supposed to go now?"
Laniakea looked back at the avenue, still packed with people. She had memorized a map of the city and even brought one along, yet in a place this tangled she could not bring herself to stand there studying it and searching at a leisurely pace. There was something else to consider, too.
"If the escort knights are to follow us, which would be easier for them—the main street, or the back lanes?"
She glanced around. Lucy and Signo, always at their side, were not with them today. To conceal the outing, the two had agreed to remain in the Main Palace. If they were seen wandering its halls, people would assume the imperial couple were still in their bedchamber.
In Lucy's place, knights who had come from the border with Hyperion were to serve as escort. But look as she might, she saw no one who looked like a knight, nor anyone she could imagine had come along to guard them.
"You needn't worry. Wherever we go, they'll follow well enough on their own."
Watching her fret, Hyperion let out a soft laugh and pointed toward the avenue.
"Shall we try it again, then?"
"Yes!"
At his word, Laniakea hurried back out onto the avenue. The first shock of the street had settled somewhat, but she still did not know where to rest her eyes. Every time they moved, something new came into view.
Inside the palace she had always thought the same thing: if the day ever came when she left its walls, the market would be the first place she went. And whenever she imagined it, she would wonder what she ought to buy first. She had pictured it often, yet never once settled, in her heart, on a firm This—I have to buy this! After only a brief look around, Laniakea started forward, and Hyperion moved with her at once.
A moment later she stopped before a shop piled high with every kind of fruit. It did not only sell the fruit. It pressed the fruit into juice and sold that as well. The juice was served in cheap earthenware cups, but the fresh scent of pulp just squeezed hung in the air around the stall.
Laniakea slipped a hand into her pocket and asked,
"How much for a cup?"
"Fruit from this side, one copper! Fruit brought in from far off, two coppers! Truth is, more than the expensive ones, these oranges from a farm nearby this morning have the best juice today!"
At the owner's frank pitch, Laniakea drew a single copper from her pocket. He immediately squeezed three oranges, filled a cup until it overflowed, and held it out to her. She passed him the coin, took the cup, and offered it to Hyperion.
"Here. Drink this."
"Pardon?"
"You didn't eat anything at breakfast."
Hyperion had been too busy resting his chin on his hand and staring at her while she ate to manage a proper meal of his own. And when she finished her juice in a single swallow, he had given her his as well.
"You missed breakfast because of me. Let me make it up to you now."
So saying, she pressed the cup into his hand.
Until now, whenever she imagined going to the market, Laniakea had wondered what she would buy for herself. But now she wanted to buy something for Hyperion more than for herself—because that made her happier.
A short while later, the two of them walked the market, each holding a cup. The hands that were free held tightly to each other.