The wooden ends of the beetle soldiers' spears silence them. The people start crying the moment they see me, their tears watering the polished floor. I do not believe they are crying from pain. Most likely they are afraid, but they don't look afraid to die like so many of the other prisoners did earlier.
"Why do they know me?" I ask. "Who are they?"
No other prisoner had called out to me like that. Hearing this group's voices stirs something in my chest. In my memories. It makes my head ache.
"Everyone in the palace knows you," the Emperor says, pushing my head back down onto his lap and fingering first my ear and then stroking my neck. "Do you recognise them, Tofu?"
I examine every face, looking for something familiar. I cannot see them clearly. My head throbs with pain.
"What is wrong?" the Emperor asks, looking at me concerned, because I have pushed away his hands away to rub my head.
"My head aches."
"It will not take long," the Emperor smiles softly, the edges of the frozen stone in his eyes melting for a moment and then hardening again. He holds my head straight with his hands. "Look again. Do you know these people?"
"No," I tell him, trying to shake off his hands, but he holds me firmly. "I have not seen them before. Should I know them?"
The prisoners cry harder when I say this. Why do they cry so hard?
"Come and sit on my knee."
"No, thank you, your Imperial Majesty. I don't want to."
There is something in his voice which frightens me. There is something that he wants that I do not understand.
"Come here," he pulls me to his side so that I must stand with his arm around my waist and he holds me there. His hands are no longer soft and warm. They are hard and cold, like bands of iron. They are no longer kind. When I glance at his eyes, they are full of lightning in the dark. I cannot escape from his grasp. "Stay still and this will be over soon. This is a tricky case and that is why I need your help. There is a reason I do this. Do you trust me?"
"Of course, your Imperial Majesty," I say and stop wriggling.
He holds me in such a way, I feel as if I am being claimed the same way I have seen a child hold a favourite toy to their chest. His fingers continue to stroke me and I feel ashamed. Fluttering Bird and Gentle Whiskers told me that no woman should be publicly handled like this unless they are a bad woman. But surely the Emperor knows best. He always has. He says he has a reason. He would not make me a bad woman.
"I will tell you their story," the Emperor says after a long silence. "These people are travellers from another country. I heard of them and invited them to visit my palace and see my gardens. I treated them with great honour and dignity, giving them expensive gifts that they would find nowhere else in the world. I know the ladies of the court have been teaching you the art of receiving guests and giving or receiving gifts. Tell me, what is the rule for the host?"
"To treat all guests, no matter how great or small with honour and dignity befitting their station. The host should offer food and drink to show they are generous and honoured by the visit. If they favour the guest, they may give them a gift befitting their station," I recite as best as I can, rewording the parts I have forgotten and hoping that the Emperor does not notice.
"Now, what is the rule for the guests?"
"To partake of the host's offering with all grace and politeness, taking enough to please the host, but not seem greedy by taking too much. They should always thank the host for his hospitality with gifts."
"What happens if they have something the host wants?"
"If it is something of great value, then they should give the next best gift or something of close to equivalent value."
"These guests gave me gifts worth nothing like the gift I wanted, Tofu," the Emperor tells me, his arm tightening so that the armrest of his throne digs into my side. "Nothing they had, even put together, was close to the value of the one I hoped for. Were they bad guests?"
"According to the rules, they were, but surely some things are worth more than all the possessions a person has."
"Explain please, Tofu," the Emperor pats my cheek, forcing me to face him. His eyebrows almost join together.
"If someone rich and powerful came to the palace here and decided that they liked your throne chair. You would not give it to them. The throne is the symbol of your power. You could not give them a gift that was even close to equivalent to it."
"I would behead them for daring to ask such a question. You have a wiser head than I thought," the Emperor does not turn his head, but looks at me out the corner of his eyes. "You know, Tofu, I could behead you for even mentioning such a thing."
"I don't know what else you see as important," I say, shivering a little under his indirect glare. "Did I speak wrongly?"
"There are some things that are wiser not to say," the Emperor tightens his arm again and ignores my efforts to pull away from the armrest. "Now, these guests have insulted me and I was greatly upset. Am I not a good emperor?"
"The best, your Imperial Majesty."
"Am I not a wise emperor?"
"The wisest, your Imperial Majesty. You can do no wrong."
"You truly believe that?"
"Yes, your Imperial Majesty. Please, you're hurting me."
"Then do you believe I have done wrong in this matter? I requested a gift of these guests and they refused me. Moreover, they insulted me to my face, saying I was not good enough for the gift. They talk to all my enemies and since they have been in prison, they have planned with my enemies to fight me. So…" he leaves his sentence hanging for me to finish.