![]() This was not a public area of the palace, not an audience chamber. Where the wood remained, tendrils of some wispy plant trailed, thin silver-green leaves and here and there tiny white flowers. In one corner the wood was missing-probably damaged in last week's violent dispute between rival parts of Anaander Mianaai herself. The room was small, three and a half meters square, paneled with a lattice of dark wood. Under normal circumstances no one ever saw such young versions of the Lord of the Radch, but these were not normal circumstances. Her face was already stamped with the aristocratic features that were, in Radchaai space, a marker of the highest rank and fashion. This body that spoke to me-one of thousands-looked to be about thirteen years old. ![]() "Considering the circumstances, you could use another lieutenant." Anaander Mianaai, ruler (for the moment) of all the vast reaches of Radchaai space, sat in a wide chair cushioned with embroidered silk. ![]()
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