Her housekeeper nudged the door ajar when Nhia called out an invitation to enter. “Begging your pardon, mistress,” Nhia’s housekeeper said, opening the door the merest crack, “I know it’s late, but your young friend Tai is here.” “Tai? At this hour?” Nhia said, startled. “Send her in!” The housekeeper ducked out and after a moment Tai entered, her eyes down, closing the door behind her with both hands, placed flat against the small of her back, and leaning against it. “Do you have a moment, Nhia?” “Of course. What is it? Has Rimshi … ?” “No, no change,” Tai said. Rimshi had been drifting between deep sleep and a strange waking state where she wandered in her mind and often talked to people who were not there, including Tai’s long-dead father. Yuet kept her dosed with poppy as much as possible, keeping her comfortable—but they all knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe days, maybe only hours. “But that is what I’ve come to talk to you about. Sort of.”
