Empress of All Seasons

Tami had dusted the girls with perfumes and powders and imparted advice: Men like the smell of self-worth, confidence. You must know your mind and speak it, but not too often. Men fear intelligent women. It means they are capable of anything. You must laugh, but not be funny. You must be spirited, but not strong . . .

Do not lead with your heart, her mother had said. Lead with your head.

A man too full of himself is empty inside.

“Whatever he thinks about me, whatever you think about my people, you are both wrong.” She remembered Hissa’s words. We are monsters. The words of her mother. It is the only way I could keep you. “Not everyone is all good or all bad. It is a mistake to think so.”

Between knocks, Tami imparted wisdom. “Through pain you will achieve greatness.” Strike. “Through suffering you will gain honor.” Strike. “Through sacrifice you will rise.” Strike.

Funny how love can drive you to hate.

Mari’s hands trembled. Mere hours ago, she had faced an imperial samurai in a game of death. The navy kimono she wore was still specked with dust from their combat. And now, she hesitated with what to say, how to comfort Hissa. Sometimes words are so much more difficult to form than fists.