June 30, 2018 by Lyn Thorne-Alder
“Do you remember?” She had quizzed Riensin until he refused to talk to her. She had pestered Tesdes until he had picked up a charcoal and a slip of paper and drawn his memory ot the Voice of the Emperor, which, it seemed, was seven lines and a raised eyebrow.
Now she was asking Gianci, because he was an unknown quantity and he might be observant enough to have noticed more than a raised eyebrow.
“You know,” he offered, “I can describe her. But what I would suggest — I’m serious, I’m not trying to put you off — is to practice drawing from memory for a couple months, and then to ask Enrie nicely if she can get you a short session with her cousin for the purpose of being able to better paint her.”
“Do you think — I mean, we got in because there was something Enrie had to talk about, and we were, I don’t know, her entourage? Protective coloration. Why would the Voice of the Emperor want to see me?”
“Because you have some of the extra interest that’s attached to her, because you were there. And,” Gianci grinned at her, “there is also the little matter of you finding the Voice of the Emperor’s face and mien so interesting that you’ve been asking everyone everything they can remember about her. I half expect you to go quiz Enrie’s imperial Bureaucracy while they search the library.”
The Imperial Bureaucrats! “That — that is a wonderful idea, Gianci! Thank you!” Kekdela bobbed three quick bows and ran off to the Library.