Getting stabbed was an awful experience. Isshiri wouldn't recommend it to anyone. It didn't hurt as much as getting burned, maybe, but between the bloodloss and the fever it had left the world fuzzy and uncertain on the edges for days.

That part, at least, seemed mostly past, but he still got dizzy a lot faster than he liked, and his balance was shot all to hell again. And, once again, he tripped and staggered against a wall, which turned out to be a door, which led to--

Well, that was strange. He could've sworn he was on the opposite end of the palace from the green reception room.

He put a hand out and steadied himself against the wall, waiting for the room to settle around him, then looked to see if he was alone.