by Claire Luana
Nanase nodded.
“Don’t tell them what Geisa said about the real Tsuki being dead,” Kai said after a moment of indecision.
“Shouldn’t the council be working with all the facts?”
“Normally, I would agree,” Kai said crossly. “But this would be incredibly demoralizing news, and it may be a ploy by Geisa. We keep this between us—at least for now. Am I understood?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Nanase said.
“In the meantime, life needs to carry on. Word may have traveled that I was ill. We need to assure the people that I am healthy and strong. Tomorrow I will do my ride through the city.”
As Nanase nodded her assent, three dark shapes swooped through the night sky. They were but shadows against the stars and the lights of the citadel, but Kai could tell from the shape of their wings that they were eagles, not koumori.
Nanase’s sharp eyes had caught the same. “Are we expecting anyone from Kita?” she asked.
“Not that I know of,” Kai said. “Let’s go see.”
As they arrived at the koumori landing field, a large figure dismounted from one of the eagles and strode towards them, a cloak billowing behind him.
“General Ipan?” Kai asked.
He gave them a courtly bow, flourishing his cloak.
“I hear you gave everyone quite a scare, Majesty,” General Ipan said in his deep baritone. “Don’t you go dying and leaving the hard work to the rest of us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kai said. She was overcome by a sudden urge to give the sunburner general a hug. He had a comforting presence and an easy way with people.
“Headmistress.” General Ipan nodded to Nanase.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Kai asked.
“To cut right to it, I am here to deliver good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Bad news?” Kai’s stomach lurched. She didn’t think she could handle more bad news.
“Very well,” the general said, stepping his huge girth aside to reveal a scowling figure striding towards them. “The bad news.”
A hiss escaped her lips. Kai couldn’t think of anyone, save perhaps evil-Tsuki herself, who she dreaded seeing more. It was Daarco.
CHAPTER 7
It took all of Kai’s self-restraint to not pull her knife from its sheath.
“What. Is. He. Doing. Here?” Kai asked, not taking her eyes from his face.
Daarco stood next to General Ipan, his muscled arms behind his back. They wore matching red sunburner uniforms tailored in gold thread, General Ipan’s straining a bit in the middle.
Though he was trying to keep his face impassive, Daarco’s perpetual scowl crept back into place. She supposed an impartial observer could find him handsome with his close-cropped golden hair and heavy brows. Perhaps his crooked nose could be endearing in the right setting. But not to her. She knew the venom that lay beneath that exterior.
“He is here to learn and serve at your pleasure.”
Kai ground her teeth. “It would serve my pleasure to see him get back on his eagle and return to Kistana.”
“I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here,” Daarco hissed.
General Ipan held up his hand and Daarco fell silent, his eyes dropping to the ground.
“A few of our officers, Daarco chief among them, are having trouble…embracing our new alliance. Overcoming old ways of thinking.”
“You mean old prejudices,” Kai said.
General Ipan ignored her quip and went on. “King Ozora thought that it would be best to send some of these individuals—not too many at a time of course—to Miina to get to know who the moonburners really are. He is confident that once they spend time with you and your subjects, they will come to see you with the same respect that the rest of us do.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea in the abstract. She had a few moonburners who could use a month in Kistana to humanize the sunburners in their eyes. But it was a risk and a distraction she could little afford right now.
“It’s an unnecessary security risk,” Kai said. “Daarco tried to kill me. Twice. I don’t have the manpower to watch him while he’s here.”
Daarco crossed his arms but kept his eyes to the ground and said nothing. He must have gotten some lecture from the king before being shipped off to Kyuden.
“I can assure you, Daarco will behave like a perfect gentleman while he is here. Hiro will oversee his behavior himself.”
Kai recoiled slightly. “Hiro has agreed to his?” How could Hiro not have told her that he was bringing a monster on a frayed leash into her very sitting room?
“Well, he hasn’t agreed…so much. But his father was sure he would be willing.”
“Ah,” Kai said, her temper cooling slightly. She was familiar with the whims of meddling parents who thought they knew best. “I suppose I needn’t remind you that Daarco was under Hiro’s watchful eye the two times he tried to kill me.”
“I know Daarco regrets his actions very much,” Ipan said. “Respectfully, circumstances have changed, Your Majesty. The burners are allies now. Daarco will present no danger to you. I stake my life on it.”
She sighed. This wasn’t a battle she could fight right now. “He may stay, under guard, until I can take this up with Hiro. But this isn’t decided. Nanase, please find Daarco and General Ipan quarters while they are here.”
Nanase nodded imperceptibly.
“And Daarco,” Kai said, taking a step towards him and fixing him with her gaze. “General Ipan is right. Circumstances have changed. I am queen of Miina now. If you step even a toe out of line while you are here, you will be punished to the full extent of Miinan law.”
Daarco’s lip twisted slightly as he said two words through gritted teeth: “I understand.”
“Well,” Ipan said, clapping his hands, “now that the pleasantries have been exchanged…we can’t forget the good news.”
Kai grumbled. “I hope it’s very good.”
“You can be the judge of that. Ah, here he comes.”
“He?”
“He’s not a very strong flier,” General Ipan whispered conspiratorially. “He needed a minute or two to get his legs back under him.”
A man approached from the landing ground and bowed low before her. A bulging leather satchel slipped from his shoulder to the ground with a thud.
“Queen Kailani, meet Jurou, King Ozora’s chief historian.”
Jurou had a long nose with a slight hook, a narrow mouth, and oversized glasses. His shabby clothing was faded and too big for his thin frame. The only thing remarkable about the man was his hair. It was golden and thinning slightly. So he was a sunburner. She hadn’t known they came in this scholarly variety.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Jurou. Welcome to the Lunar Citadel. Though I did not hear that you were coming…” She looked to General Ipan and back again.
Jurou spoke first. “It was I who asked to come. Forgive my impertinence for inviting myself into your house, so to speak.”
“Not at all,” Kai said. “But I am curious why you made the trip.”
“We live in quite remarkable times, as you no doubt realize. I have been poring over the libraries of Kistana seeking an understanding of the events of the last few months.”
“The drought?”
“Yes, the drought, the sickness, the gods’ apparent distaste for the burners, whom they once held dear. The trail of my research has gone cold in Kistana, and I thought I might pick it up here. I know the citadel has an extensive library with many volumes Kita does not have.”
“You seek the cause of the gods’ anger at us?” Kai said.
“Yes, and hopefully a remedy.”
A measure of hope bloomed in Kai’s chest for the first time in several weeks. “Then you are very welcome indeed. Master Vita, our librarian, has had little luck finding answers, but perhaps you two can combine efforts.”
“Excellent,” Jurou said. “I have several theories, you s
ee. Some scholars believe that worlds like ours have lifecycles, and perhaps ours is nearing the end of its life. Hopefully, it would be reborn, of course, though that wouldn’t help any of us.”
“Ah,” Kai said politely.
“Now it could also be a result of the secularization of our great nations. Perhaps a return to more zealous worship is what is needed to soothe the gods’ anger.”
“Both excellent theories,” Kai said. “We will owe you a great debt if you can find a solution.”
“Now I have several other theories—”
“Jurou,” General Ipan cut in, “I’m sure the queen has many tasks to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time where you could present your most promising theories after comparing notes with Master Vita.”
“Of course,” Jurou said, rubbing his hands nervously. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I have a tendency to get carried away sometimes.”
“No apology necessary,” Kai said.
“I would like to head to the library now if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely. I’m sure Master Vita will make you feel right at home. Nanase, please have Jurou escorted to the library. I will be in my chambers.”
Jurou retrieved his satchel, heaving it over his narrow shoulder and heading after Nanase.
Thank you, Kai mouthed to General Ipan behind Jurou’s retreating figure.
He winked.
Once Kai was around the corner from Daarco and the others, she picked up her pace and jogged to her chamber. She hadn’t had a minute to herself since she had awoken. It turned out that queens didn’t get much time alone. Almost none, in fact.
When she entered the carved wooden door, Quitsu was laying on the thick coverlet. He hadn’t wanted to see Geisa, and Kai didn’t blame him.
She flopped on the bed next to him and gave his head a scratch.
She still hadn’t gotten used to this life. Perhaps she never would. Her chambers were large and sprawling, taking up the entire floor of the tower. The bedroom, which connected to the sitting room on one end and the washroom on the other, was lined with tall windows swathed in thick velvet drapes. The floors were covered in lush white carpets that were just about the most impractical things in the world.
The bed dominated the room, a huge monster four-post affair with more pillows than a whole family would have back in Ushai shoen. The coverlet was made of soft silk trimmed with silver fringe that she toyed with when she couldn’t sleep. There were a lot of nights when she couldn’t sleep.
Quitsu had been unusually silent the past few minutes.
“What’s wrong, furball? No witty jabs today?”
He rolled so his back was to her, hitting her in the face with his long fluffy tail.
She sat up, rolling him back over so he was looking at her. His snout was set in a thin line and his pointed silver ears were laid back on his head. Though adorable as ever, he looked…angry.
“Are you mad at me?” Kai asked with incredulity.
“You almost got us killed,” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You didn’t even think before you burst into that house to help that man. How could you be so careless? Don’t you see that we all depend on you? Everything depends on you!”
She recoiled as if he had struck her. “You’re the last person I need this from. You know I never asked for any of this! I never wanted to be queen.”
“But you are, whether you like it or not.”
“I know that,” she said defensively.
“Do you?” he peered at her, his ebony eyes cutting through her defenses.
She looked away. “I guess,” she muttered.
“If you’re truly embracing being queen, why have you kept Hiro at arm’s length? A child could see you’re hopelessly in love with him. Why haven’t you even discussed an engagement with him?”
Her cheeks reddened. “There’s been so much going wrong. The time never seemed right…”
“Things haven’t always been this bad. That’s not the reason, and you know it.”
Kai’s face was burning now. Her lip quivered. Don’t cry. “I don’t deserve him,” she said quietly.
“I can’t hear you,” Quitsu said.
“I don’t deserve him!” Kai shouted. “I don’t deserve any of this. I’m no one. I keep thinking he will wake up one day and realize that I’m plain and boring and he deserves someone better. Or that someone is going to march in here and say they made a mistake making me queen and throw me out on my backside! I don’t know what I am doing! I don’t know how to be queen! I don’t know how to fight a god and goddess! Or a…whatever that thing is. I can’t do any of this.” Kai took a pillow and threw it at the stone wall with all her might. It exploded, raining a shower of goose down feathers over the bed. She blinked, looking at the mess through the refraction of tears in her eyes.
“Feel better?” Quitsu said. His signature grin was back on his face.
A smile quirked at the corner of Kai’s mouth. It spread and she grabbed the other pillow, smacking Quitsu with it.
He yowled in mock pain, darting around the bed until she pulled him towards her chest with a sniffle.
“I’m sorry I put you at risk,” Kai said. “I didn’t know he had spotted fever.”
“I know. It was an accident. But you have to be more careful. Tsuki would welcome any opportunity to take you out.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “It would have been a lot simpler if I’d just died of spotted fever.”
“For you maybe! What about the rest of us?” Quitsu said. “Well, not me, I would have been dead too.”
“It would have been very selfish of me to die,” she said, cracking a smile.
“Exactly. You’re queen now. It wasn’t a mistake. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. You need to embrace it until you feel it in every fiber of your being,” Quitsu said.
She buried her face in his fur. It was as soft as silk under her hand, and she could smell the scent of him, fresh as new-fallen snow. The handprint on her chest thrummed at his nearness.
“Do you feel…different since we awoke?” she asked. She stood and went to the mirror, pulling the collar of her shirt aside to reveal the mysterious handprint.
“Yes,” Quitsu whispered, jumping up on the table to examine the mark. “I feel more…alive somehow.”
“Me too,” Kai said.
“Do you remember any of what happened?” Quitsu asked.
She shook her head. “You?”
“I remember…feeling frightened. And then feeling safe. That’s all,” he said.
She brushed the scarred skin of her chest with her fingertips. “We should have died, Quitsu. But somehow, we didn’t. We need to remember how. Why. It’s important. I can feel it.”
CHAPTER 8
Ryu seemed to know things in that strange seishen way. When Hiro was coming of age, Ryu would tell Hiro which courtiers were interested in him only for his crown. Which turned out to be all of them, much to his younger self’s frustration. Ryu’s talents were useful in all sorts of situations—card games, politics, managing his Kitan estates. Hiro owed much to the insights Ryu shared with him.
Nevertheless, Hiro was still startled when Ryu told him that General Ipan had landed at the citadel with Jurou and Daarco over an hour ago.
They would be housed in the west quarters—the wing was filled with rooms kept open for visitors and dignitaries. Hiro’s rooms were located in the same wing, though he hardly felt like a visitor anymore. He fingered the ring nestled in the pocket of his jacket. Not a visitor, but not quite at home, either. Not yet anyway.
“Why in Taiyo’s name did my father send Daarco?” Hiro muttered under his breath as he rounded a corner, searching for the sunburner visitors’ quarters. Kai already had enough to worry about; she wouldn’t be happy about this development.
“You could ask him,” Ryu said. “He would know better than I.”
“Maybe I will.” He could ask Nanase to borrow the bowl she used to communicate with
the sunburners in Kita. But in truth, he didn’t want to talk to his father. Their correspondence as of late had been growing more and more unsettling, leaving Hiro with the feeling that he was going to soon end up between a rock and a hard place—namely his father and Kai.
A moonburner guard was posted at the door, but she stepped aside as Hiro and Ryu approached. Muffled voices argued from within the room.
Hiro let himself in.
The scene inside gave Hiro a sense of déjà vu. Daarco was draped over a lounge chair in front of the empty fireplace, a glass of sun whiskey in his hand. He hardly looked up when Hiro entered.
Jurou was standing by a table, flipping through a leather-bound tome he had apparently brought with him. The man was a true bookworm, but also whip-smart and politically-savvy. He played a critical role on Hiro’s father’s council. Hiro trusted the man implicitly, as did his father. That he was here was a very bad sign indeed.
“Planning an invasion?” Hiro half-joked, shaking Jurou’s hand.
“This is probably the most sunburners the citadel has housed since its inception,” Jurou said. “Well, that’s not true. At least six came before the Flare War with Ozora’s delegation, and then there was King Oxalta’s envoy one-hundred and forty years ago, give or take—”
“It’s a sign of changing times,” Hiro said. He had long since given up feeling guilty interrupting the man. Jurou could go on for hours if left unchecked. “We are allied now. It’s a sign of growing trust.”
Daarco snorted and Hiro shot him a pointed look.
“Perhaps,” Jurou said. “Troubled times.”
“What are you doing here?” Hiro tried to ask the question gently.
“I have two purposes. What I am about to tell you, I trust you will not share with the queen. I understand you two have grown close, but your true allegiance lies with Kita, does it not?”
Hiro furrowed his brow. “I didn’t know the two were mutually exclusive. Tell me why you are here, and I can assure you that I will keep it quiet if I believe it to be in the best interest of Kita. That will have to suffice.”