The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu

get a job. Your father stopped me on the way here tonight and told me that you were a bad influence on me.”
    His father’s comment bothered Kuni more than he wanted to admit. He tried to bluster through it. “I do have ambition.”
    â€œHa! That’s a good one,” Than Carucono said. Than was the mayor’s stable master, and sometimes his friends teased him that he understood horses better than people. “Every time one of us offers to find you a real job, you come up with some ridiculous objection. You don’t want to work with me because you think horses are scared of you—”
    â€œThey are!” Kuni protested. “Horses are skittish around men of unusual character and high mind—”
    Than ignored him. “You don’t want to help Cogo because you think civil service is boring—”
    â€œI think you’re misquoting me,” said Kuni. “I said I didn’t think my creativity could be confined—”
    â€œYou don’t want to go with Rin because you claim Master Loing would be ashamed to see you dropping allusions to the classics he taught you in soldiers’ love letters. What do you want to do?”
    In truth, Kuni thought he would have enjoyed peppering soldiers’ love letters with Master Loing’s pearls of wisdom, but he hadn’t wanted to take away business from Rin, as he knew he was the better writer. But such reasons could never be spoken aloud.
    He wanted to say that he yearned to accomplish something extra­ordinary, to be admired like a man riding at the head of a great procession. But every time he tried to come up with specific details, he drew a blank. From time to time, he wondered if his father and brother had been right about him: He was like a bit of floating duckweed, just drifting through life, good for nothing.
    â€œI’m waiting—”
    â€œâ€”for the right opportunity,” Than and Rin finished for him in unison.
    â€œYou’re improving,” said Rin. “You only say that once every other day now.”
    Kuni gave them a wounded look.
    â€œI think I understand,” Than said. “You are waiting for the mayor to come to you with a palanquin draped in silk, begging to present you to the emperor as the flower of Zudi.”
    Everyone laughed.
    â€œHow can mere sparrows understand the thoughts of an eagle?” Kuni said, puffing up his chest and finishing his drink with a flourish.
    â€œI agree. Eagles would gather around when they see you,” Rin said.
    â€œReally?” Kuni brightened at this compliment.
    â€œOf course. You look like a plucked chicken. You’d attract eagles and vultures from miles around.”
    Kuni Garu halfheartedly punched his friend.
    â€œListen, Kuni,” Cogo Yelu said. “The mayor’s throwing a party. Do you want to come? A lot of important people will be there, people you don’t normally get to see. Who knows, you might meet your opportunity there.”
    Cogo was older than Kuni by about ten years. A diligent and studious man, he had passed the Imperial civil service examinations with high marks. But as he was from an undistinguished family not tapped into the network of patronage in the bureaucracy, being a clerk of the third rank in the city government was probably as high as he would ever rise in the civil service.
    However, he liked his job. The mayor, a Xana man who had bought this sinecure but had no real interest in administration, relied on Cogo’s advice for most decisions. Cogo was fascinated by matters of local governance and had a knack for solving the mayor’s problems.
    Others might see Kuni as a lazy, idle young man destined for the poorhouse or a life of crime, but Cogo liked Kuni’s easy manners and his flashes of brilliance. Kuni was original, and that was more than could be said for most people in Zudi. Having Kuni there to joke with would relieve the monotony of the party for