"Your Imperial Majesty," said the Potentate Versidue-Shaie through the door. "She's just heard that her son is dead," he said quietly. One of her women came up the narrow stairs to see her mistress, but her chief guard Zuuk stood at the doorway and shook his head. Her wailing echoed throughout the hollow halls of Castle Giovese, stopping maids in their washing and guards in their conversation. Her throat felt like it was on fire but still she sobbed, uncontrollably, wringing her last tapestry in her hands. The Empress Tavia lay across her bed, a hot late summer wind she could not feel banging the shutters of her cell to and fro against the iron bars.
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