Instead, the person who emerged was one whose presence warmed him to the core. The Empress wore none of her finery that day, and in her plain white tunic, she could easily have been mistaken for a tourist. Yet her kind eyes and merry lips retained an ineffable luster.
“Galen! I didn’t know you enjoyed the gardens too.”
He bowed. “Your Majesty.” He suddenly realized that he’d forgotten to lift his face into its practiced, pleasant expression. He rushed to curve his lips.
The Empress giggled. “You don’t have to smile all the time!”
I must have grinned too widely. He adjusted his expression. “Is this better, Your Majesty?”
“Please, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Treat me like an empress.” She sighed. “I understand that you need to in the palace, but it’s only us now. I know how hard you work to fit in. Believe me—I feel your pain.”
Tilt your head to indicate confusion. Galen angled his head. “What do you mean?”
“People expect an empress to be certain things.” The Empress wandered along the wide path, which was paved with gleaming purple stones. “Dignified. Calm. Authoritative. Most of the time, I imagine what my mother would have done in my place and imitate her. But that’s not who I am, and it’s exhausting.” She glanced at him. “I’ve noticed you do the same thing, except you imitate the courtiers. Always smiling, always looking ‘pleasant,’ whatever they may be thinking. You may be an AI, but Lao Qiu created you to think independently. So who are you, really?”
Galen blinked. After all his efforts to appear perfect, she’d seen right through him. “I… do not understand most of what humans do. I try to read their expressions and give them the responses they expect. But so often, they cloud their true meanings, and I find it difficult. What’s more, I’ve found that honesty is not always welcome, yet I do not know how to tell falsehoods convincingly. And so I simply smile, say as little as I can, and do my best to be pleasant.” A strange rush filled him. Those were the most words he’d spoken to her at one time since arriving at the palace.
“I understand. Human interactions are difficult, even for humans. It’s a wonder we manage to communicate at all.” The Empress smiled and shook her head. “But I shouldn’t complain. I’m grateful to be in a position that lets me make our world a better place.”
“Yes, Caixing is a better place because you are Empress.” The words emerged from Galen’s mouth before he considered them. An awkward feeling seized him.
The Empress grinned widely. “Thank you. I don’t deserve such praise, but it means a lot to me since I know you meant it.”
“Yes, I meant it.” Warmth pooled in Galen’s chest, but he wasn’t sure whether to find it comforting or disconcerting.
He walked beside the Empress as she continued her stroll through the gardens. But none of the exotic blooms or magnificent trees bore as much beauty as she did.
♛
Daiyu’s sweet soprano intertwined with Jarik’s vigorous tenor, and the two voices soared through her study. She sounded pale and fragile in comparison to the Bilin Nightingale, but she nevertheless delighted in sharing a song with him. She didn’t have a lot of time for recreation, but she always made sure to keep her appointments with Jarik. The time she spent with him was the closest she could come to the stage she’d once dreamed of.
Yet even as she sang, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to Galen and what it might be like to sing with him instead. In the two months she’d known him, she’d come to realize he was the only being in the entire palace that she could trust. As much as she enjoyed Jarik’s company, she had to remain wary of his attempts to influence her. Because of her busy schedule, she often had to choose which one of them she would spend time with. So far, she’d chosen Jarik, seeing Galen only once or twice a week. Things would have been easier if Jarik would have tolerated Galen’s presence.
Once, she’d asked Jarik to perform with Galen for a royal reception, but the rehearsal had gone disastrously. Jarik had claimed Galen was too much like a music box and lacked the flexibility needed to accompany another. Galen had simply been confused.
The tenor countermelody cut off abruptly in the middle of a phrase. Jarik crossed his arms and frowned at her.
Daiyu knit her brows. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You hit all the right notes, but your mind was elsewhere.”
“I… don’t know what you mean.” Daiyu glimpsed a movement outside the large, circular window and glanced past Jarik.
Galen, who was passing by on the covered walkway outside, paused when she caught his eye. He’d been holding his face in that “pleasant” expression he always did—the mask he projected to the world. His smile warmed, tilting into something crooked and somewhat awkward—but undeniably genuine.
Daiyu smiled back.
“Daiyu!” Jarik stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “We should get back to your lesson.”
Daiyu cocked her head, wondering if he was really as angry as he sounded or if she was imagining it.
Outside, Galen rushed away and vanished from sight.
“Good, he’s gone,” Jarik growled.
“What’s wrong with you?” Daiyu put her hands on her hips. “You’re always so unpleasant in his presence. Has he offended you somehow?”
“Not by his actions, but by his existence. You seek to replace me with him, but he can never give you what I can.”
Daiyu recoiled. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen how you spend your days with him, and I know it was him your mind dwelled on when you were supposed to be singing with me.”
Daiyu wanted to point out to Jarik that it was him she’d chosen to spend her days with—often at Galen’s expense—but he went on before she could speak.
“Be careful, Daiyu. A machine will always be a machine.” Jarik’s eyes burned with such intensity, she thought they might set her aflame. “He won’t be there when you need him the most. Do not be fooled by that false nightingale.” He stormed out of the room.
Daiyu stared after him in shock. She’d never before realized how much darkness had gathered in his heart. He’d hidden it well with his handsome face and easy charm. But in that moment, she finally saw his true self.
♛
New emotions bloomed in Galen’s soul—feelings he’d known the definitions of but was experiencing himself for the first time. Some were wondrous—like the rush of riding a fast horse for the first time. Some were painful—like the embarrassment of saying the wrong thing and seeing people laugh at his verbal clumsiness.
Yet he couldn’t define what he felt in the Empress’ presence. It was at once magnificent and agonizing. At first, he told himself that a powerful attachment to her was natural since Lao Qiu had created him to serve her. But soon he realized how far it went beyond that.
His favorite moments were those he spent walking alone with the Empress in the Imperial Gardens. Sometimes, he’d sing for her, and in the privacy provided by sky-high flowers or hedges as sturdy as steel, his melodies would flow in a way they never could in court. It was her presence that coaxed them out—the soft, admiring look in her eyes, the pure joy on her lips.
She spent more and more time with him—sometimes, he’d even see her two days in a row. Meanwhile, Vox Jarik had vanished. From what Galen had heard, the Bilin Nightingale had returned to his province, though he had no idea whether it was for a visit or forever. Secretly, he hoped it was the latter. The Empress had seemed distraught by his absence at first, and Galen had done his best to take Jarik’s place in her life and onstage. Many, human and alien alike, claimed that his music was more enchanting than the Bilin Nightingale’s, and some even began calling him the AI Nightingale. Despite their admiration, Galen often felt like an imposter. Vox Jarik was the one who’d developed a career in the arts and enjoyed being at court. All Galen wanted was to sing for the Empress.
One day, Galen and the Empress were wan
dering among the luminescent pink-and-white Varia lilies, which were each only the size of a hand but climbed upon each other until they reached such lofty heights they nearly blocked out the sun.
An uncomfortable feeling had been following Galen all day, and even the Empress’ proximity couldn’t melt it. A dark figure seemed to loom behind him, waiting to stab him in the back, yet he could find no reason for it.
“Is something the matter, Galen?” The Empress had apparently noticed his discomfort.
“Yes, but I don’t know what.”
“You’ve been performing a lot recently. Perhaps you are fatigued.” The Empress met his gaze. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about something. When you first arrived, Lao Qiu presented you as a gift. Since you’re an AI, I thought nothing of it at the time. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I realize you deserve freedom as much as any being. You don’t need to stay here if you don’t want to.”
A slight panic seized him. “Please don’t send me away. Being here brings me great joy.”
“I’m not sending you away. I’m letting you know you have a choice.”
“Then I choose to stay with you.” Galen pictured the generals he’d seen, how they’d stood with firmness and certainty, and he did his best to imitate their sure posture.
Before he could continue, a man in black armor wearing a grotesque black helmet that covered the entirety of his face, jumped out from behind the flowers. He brandished a silver laser gun. The Empress screamed. One of the palace’s security drones flew onto the scene and rained white blasts down upon the attacker. He shot the machine, and it crashed to the ground.
Galen watched, stunned, as four other attackers appeared seemingly out of nowhere and rushed at the Empress. She tried to run, but whichever way she turned, they blocked her path. Though additional drones swooped in to protect her, the attackers destroyed them all with ease. Two palace guards arrived and exchanged fire, but they were outnumbered and soon fell.
The five in black armor closed in on the Empress, looking like the shadows of death. The Empress snatched the gun from one of the fallen guards. “Galen! Go get help!”
At her command, a sense of urgency gripped Galen, and he wondered why he’d been standing still the whole time. But when he tried to run, he realized that it wasn’t shock that had held him in place.
He was paralyzed. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger. He might as well have turned to stone.
Yet his senses remained alert, and he watched in horror as the Empress faced her attackers alone.
♛
“Galen!” Daiyu’s hand shook around the gun she’d so boldly grabbed. Now that she had it, she didn’t know what to do with it. Fear strangled her heart like a snake. “Galen, please! Help me!”
No matter how she cried out, the AI Nightingale remained still, his gentle face expressionless. Something must have broken inside him… a malfunction. Jarik’s words haunted her. He won’t be there when you need him the most.
The attackers closed in on Daiyu. They’d killed two guards, and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Already, she could feel the cold hands of death wrapping around her.
“Stay back!” She fired, but her shot missed widely.
Though she struggled fiercely, she was no match for them. One seized the gun, and another yanked her hands behind her back.
The next thing she knew, she was staring down the barrel of a weapon. She was certain that these were assassins who had infiltrated the garden with the intention of murdering the Empress, and no amount of pleading would win their mercy. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
“Stop!” a familiar voice rang out.
Daiyu looked up, stunned to see Jarik running toward her. After he’d left the palace in anger, she hadn’t expected to see him again. So great was her surprise that it robbed her of words.
Jarik halted beside the man with the gun. “Let her go.”
“Tyranny has reigned over our planet long enough.” The man spoke with a cold, pitiless voice. “The Empress must die.”
“She has only just begun her reign.” Though he was begging, Jarik still managed to look proud and dignified. “She is not to blame for the laws enacted by her parents. If you do this, Caixing will fall into chaos. Please, lower your weapon and let the Empress live.”
“You are a man of the people, and so we will not kill you. But your words will not dissuade us from our mission.”
“You are here because you love Caixing, and ours is a world of peace. If you believe in our planet and what it stands for, you’ll let her go.”
Daiyu’s heart pounded so quickly, she felt faint. She didn’t dare hope that she might escape death, and yet Jarik appeared so strong, despite being an unarmed musician in the presence of assassins. The man with the gun appeared to hesitate. He hadn’t pulled the trigger yet after all.
Silence billowed through the garden.
A golden voice broke the stillness like glisks through a raincloud. The words of an ancient song of peace, one cherished by all on Caixing, sprang to life on the lips of the Bilin Nightingale. Daiyu had known the tune since childhood, but it had never burrowed into her heart the way it did when Jarik sang it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was hoping to persuade the assassins to let her go by reminding them of their world’s values. But if the song was the last thing she heard, at least she would go to her grave happy.
When he finished, Jarik stepped closer to the man with the gun. When the latter didn’t move, he slowly reached out and took the weapon. The assassin offered no resistance.
“Caixing stands for peace,” Jarik murmured.
“Peace,” the man echoed. “You are wise, Nightingale.”
Quick as a flash, he vanished into the thick curtain of lilies. Daiyu felt the grip on her arms disappear, but when she spun to see what had happened, she found that the other four attackers were gone as well.
“Empress!” A red-uniformed officer leading a group of guards rushed toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” The words, a breath on her voice, tumbled out automatically.
Her gaze met Jarik’s and she found she couldn’t tear herself away from his fierce beauty. He drew closer, and his arms encircled her waist.
It hit her then that she was going to live. She collapsed against his chest, sobbing with relief. “Thank you for coming back.”
“I could never abandon you, Daiyu.” His breath whispered against her cheek.
The next thing she knew, his lips were upon hers, hot and hungry. She offered no resistance. Such a mess of emotions tumbled through her that she didn’t know how to react. Yet one thing was sure: In his arms, she finally felt safe.
Standing forgotten beside the wreckage of a broken drone, Galen remained frozen, his eyes still fixed upon his beloved Empress.
♛
Galen pictured tragic scenes from operas he’d watched, ones in which a devastated hero threw himself to the ground weeping, or cried out in vain to silent gods, or plunged a knife into his own heart out of despair. He imagined these emotions because he could not express any of them, no matter how he longed to. His body had betrayed him, and he remained trapped behind still, expressionless eyes.
The Empress must have thought him dead—or deactivated. She seemed to have forgotten all about him after the attack in the garden. He kept seeing the way Vox Jarik had taken her into his arms and kissed her, and he wished he could have been as lucky as the drone that had been shot to pieces.
Two guards carried him back to his quarters, speculating out loud about how he could have shut down at such a critical time. One believed he’d been unable to compute the shock of someone attacking the Empress. The other believed the assassins had uploaded a virus into his mind via his connection to the planetary network. Either or neither could have been true, but Galen didn’t care about the cause. All that mattered what that he’d failed the Empress, and
she’d nearly died because of it.
The guards left him face-up on his bed and mumbled about how they didn’t know what to do about him. Galen wondered if anyone would think to contact Lao Qiu, who could have discovered what was wrong with him.
But as the hours stretched on and on and on, he realized no one cared what happened to him. Not even the Empress.
♛
Daiyu hardly remembered what had happened in the days following the assassination attempt. She drifted through them in a haze, feeling as if she were on autopilot, but she did her best to appear all right. People already thought she was weak. She couldn’t give them further reason to believe that, and so she allowed herself no time for recovery. She kept every appointment and attended every function. She stood straight and spoke with a confidence she could project but couldn’t feel. In fact, she couldn’t feel much of anything. She kept seeing the two dead guards—their slack faces and pooling blood. If Jarik hadn’t arrived when he had, she would have joined them.
Jarik seemed to follow her everywhere, and she was too grateful to push him away. Everyone gossiped about how the Empress had a new lover, but she was too numb to care. She allowed him to walk by her side as an equal, to hold her hand and even kiss her in public.
News of Jarik’s heroics spread quickly. Everyone praised the Bilin Nightingale, whose song was so sweet it chased away Death itself. Daiyu wished she could feel about him as they did. It was because of him that she was breathing at all. She remembered how she’d felt not long ago, when she’d been a starstruck girl meeting Caixing’s greatest opera singer. That girl would have been giddy to have the handsome, talented Bilin Nightingale as her lover, and she would have treasured every one of his kisses. A distant part of Daiyu hoped that when the fog cleared from her head she might find pleasure in his company again.
She felt as if she were in a deep ocean being swept about by waves from every direction. But she didn’t have the energy to swim and could barely tread water. People would come to her—officials, courtiers, Jarik—and she would oblige, but she did not seek them out. She spent an inordinate number of hours sleeping, each time hoping that she’d wake with a clear mind.
Magic at Midnight Page 31