by JC Kang
Nodding vigorously, Ma Jun said in the language from Beyond the Wall, “Jie, you know Tian’s choice.”
His choice? Jie turned to Tian, her glassy eyes searching his. “Tian is reborn. The choices of his past were forgotten, by Heaven’s will.”
She was being evasive again, avoiding talk of whatever his choice had been. As much as he wanted to know, he couldn’t bear to hurt someone who already wore such a pained look. Ma Jun leaned in and whispered into the shaman’s ear. Jie’s own ears twitched, and a scowl formed on her face.
Yuha spread out his arms. “You cannot simply undo what the spirits have brought together. You swore by the rituals of our people and your own.”
Tian shook his head. How could he live by an oath he didn’t even remember? “Who do I belong to?”
“Kaiya!” Ma Jun and Yuha said it together, and Jie recoiled as if slapped across her face.
“Kaiya!” Ming’s jaw slackened, and then his eyebrows clashed together.
Kaiya. The name meant nothing to him, even if the three men spoke it as if invoking the gods. He shook his head again.
“We called her the Willow Beauty,” Yuha said.
Tian slowly nodded. The Kanin woman he’d saved from the Metal Men had mentioned something about the Warrior From Beyond the Wall rescuing the Willow Beauty. Still, the moniker meant nothing more now than it had at the time.
Yuha made two circles with his fingers. “With eyes like a doe.”
The Doe-Eyed Girl. Tian’s heart jolted.
Sniffing, Jie stared at the ground. Ming coughed. Ma Jun nodded emphatically.
Tian lifted Jie’s chin. “It was another life; it doesn’t matter.” The words felt like a lie, even as he spoke them. An urge deep inside fueled his need to know who he once was, even if it meant that Jie was not that part of it. Still, after she’d sacrificed her arm for him…
“The spirits’ wrath will come down on you,” Yuha said. “If you are to break your commitment to Kaiya, then you must do so with the correct rituals.”
Jie met his gaze. Her lips trembled. “You must make your decision based on all information. That is who you are, who you have always been. What I loved in you from the time we first met.”
“It obviously wasn’t his good looks,” Ming muttered under his breath.
“Emperor Geros wants to occupy Hua.” Jie pointed west. “However, he is even more focused on capturing the princess. He thinks she carries his child.”
Ming choked. Tian’s head spun. If the Doe-Eyed Girl was his, and yet might carry the child of the Metal Men’s leader….
“When I left her,” Jie said, “your father was holding her prisoner.”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Ming’s eyes widened.
Jie shrugged. “He was also about to surrender the East Gate of the Great Wall.”
Ming threw his hands up. “And you sent us deeper into the woods?”
“Go to her,” Yuha placed his hand on Tian’s shoulder. “I will come with you to undo your vows if that is your final choice.”
Shouldering his pack, Ming kicked the dirt. A day which had started with him winning the well-deserved respect of the elves now ended in despair. His father, a traitor. The woman he was supposed to marry, already married to his kid brother. In addition, it appeared Emperor Geros’ claims were true, that he’d indeed despoiled her.
Ming sighed. Now their ragtag group was heading back to Hua, something he would’ve welcomed the day before. What was Jie thinking? It would be so much better if she and Tian just stayed here and made quarter-elves, and left the princess for…no, did he really want to be third in line?
Several of the elves gathered to bid them farewell, or rather to see Tian off. Dior grinned and gesticulated, each motion graceful like a lady. The elf shaman gave him trinkets. Kiri clung to him like a burr to horsehair, while Jie pursed her lips at the contact. What was it with him and half-elf girls?
Wait, one half-elf was missing. Ming scanned the crowd a couple of times. “Where’s little Kala?”
Heads turned every which way, and Dior disappeared up into the trees. That would take some time getting used to, the idea that entire village was up there, hidden.
A tug at his sleeve drew Ming’s attention down. The little boy he’d rescued grinned. Beside him, his beautiful mother bowed and spoke in mellifluous tones. A well-deserved thanks, no doubt. She handed him a quiver of arrows, each head ground from stone.
“Made by their master craftsman,” Tian chimed in. How had he snuck up like that?
The stone heads that could penetrate metal. Ming bowed to the woman. “Thank you.”
She nodded again, flashing an alluring smile. If only there were more time…
“There’s Kala.” Jie pointed with her left hand, the one she could still move.
The young half-elf looked at Jie, and then cast her eyes down.
Ming frowned. “You spoke our language. How?”
Kala raised her head. “They taught me.”
They? Ming’s brow furrowed. Tian, Jie, and Ma Jun all stared at Kala.
“They trained me in many things. Once I grew up, I was supposed to hunt down my sisters. But Kiri rescued me and we fled.”
“Sisters?” Jie gawked at the younger half-elf.
Kala exchanged nods and words with Kiri before facing Jie. “Kiri says you aren’t what she expected. She hopes you succeed.”
“Succeed?” Jie shook her head in slow turns. “At what?”
“Killing him.”
CHAPTER 25:
I, Regent
Surprised conversations filled Kaiya’s ears as she stared at the floor, feigning acquiescence to Regent Liu’s order. Perhaps it would work for the better. Marriage to Liu Deying would legitimize her babies and keep her close to the throne.
Hong, former Chief Minister, plodded by her. His defeated gait suggested his head must be hanging quite low. The other supplicant for her bed, Minister Geng, hissed in Liu’s ear. “Jie-xia, only someone who has passed the civil service exams may serve as a minister, let alone Chief Minister. Your son—”
“—will preside over your execution for insolence,” Liu said, “if you do not quiet down.”
Minister Geng’s immediate silence set the tone for all other conversations coming to a sudden halt. Kaiya looked up to see the old lecher’s gawk.
The regent beckoned the imperial guards. “As of today, Mister Geng is stepping down from his position as Minister of the Treasury. He will be reassigned to Nanling Province, as stablemaster. Remove him from the palace.”
Nanling Province! Currently in rebellion under Cousin Peng. If this was the way Liu would rule over Hua, the nation was doomed. No matter how corrupt former Minister Geng was, someone had to remonstrate the regent.
As the imperial guards strode forward, Kaiya rose to her feet. “Jie-xia, if you remove everyone who disagrees with you, sooner or later there will be no one left.”
The regent’s eyes narrowed. He’d started to lift his hand, when someone cleared their throat and stood in a rustle of robes.
Kaiya glanced back.
There stood Young Lord Chen Qing, Yu-Ming heir to a county in Jiangzhou Province. “The classics assert that a wise leader listens to diverse opinions and builds consensus, lest the nation fall into disorder.”
Several of the hereditary lords voiced their agreement; unlike the ministers, their positions didn’t depend on the Tianzi. Kaiya settled back into her kneel. Young Lord Chen had been one of her early suitors, one whom she had dismissed as dumb as a rock. Perhaps clouded by the dragon Avarax’s enchantment, she’d failed to see Chen’s potential.
Regent Liu jumped to his feet and pointed at Lord Chen. “Insolence. I order you to cut your throat.”
Tiger’s Eye or not, Kaiya gasped. Though it was certainly the regent’s prerogative, Father had never given such an order. Wouldn’t have, even if a hereditary lord had spat in his face. She rose again, the sudden motion sending her stomach into rebellion. She swa
llowed the words on her lips along with the rising nausea.
And now, she stood before everyone in silence, looking like a fool.
Fool or not, even without the power of music, she’d apparently struck a chord. Behind her, court clothes shuffled and armor jingled. She turned her head. Several hereditary lords marched to her side, many with hands on their shortswords. She glanced to the dais, where imperial guards now drew their dao.
Young Lord Chen dropped to one knee at her side. “I stand with Princess Kaiya.”
“I stand with Princess Kaiya.” Lords crowded in around her and knelt, reminiscent of their salute to Father when he recovered from Peng’s first poisoning attempt. Perhaps if she could feel emotions, it would be moving.
Lord Liu’s shoulders huddled, and he took several steps back. Then he straightened and wagged a finger at all of them. “Then you will all die, traitors to the Dragon Throne! Guards!”
Weapons rasped from sheaths, for perhaps the first time ever in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Imperial guards formed up in front and back, while ministers cowered on the floor.
Even with dao, the lords wouldn’t have stood a chance against imperial guards. It’d be a slaughter, at a time when the realm needed to come together. There could be no more internal fighting if the nation hoped to withstand a rebellion in the South and an invasion from the North. Submitting to the regent would buy them a temporary reprieve, though it had to be on her terms. She lifted her chin. “Stand down.”
Even without the power of her voice, she could still imitate Father’s imperial tone. The guards halted their advance, though their swords remain drawn.
Kaiya stretched out her arms to smooth out her sleeves, and then folded her hands in front of her as she bowed. It was time to expose her secret, portraying herself as a mourning widow. Prevented by convention to marry for a year, she was still available to be protected by the all-powerful, yet easily manipulated regent. He’d protect her sons, believing them to be his. She’d influence policy by making the regent believe the ideas were his own.
It wasn’t much different from sacrificing her dignity to Geros to protect seven hundred prisoners—save for the higher stakes and the Tiger’s Eye which made the decision all the more logical. Straightening, she tilted her head to expose her bare neck and pressed her arms inward to flaunt her cleavage.
As expected, Regent Liu’s stare dipped. Minister Geng, pressed between two imperial guards, craned his neck as well. If she’d been less naïve years before, and knew how to use her blossoming tools, perhaps she could’ve prevented Cousin Peng’s conspiracy and the ensuing upheaval.
“Jie-xia, I am afraid I cannot marry your son.” She paused to let it sink in, ready to deliver her veiled offer at the right moment.
The room fell into silence again, the collective surprise mirrored in Lord Liu’s expression. Still, his gaze remained firmly focused on her chest.
“Instead,” she said, “I—”
Booted footsteps stomped across the tile floors. Robes swished and heads turned. This inopportune interruption was ruining the precise timing of her offer.
Kaiya cast a sideward glance toward the entrance. An imperial messenger dropped to his knee just a few steps behind her. “Jie-xia, the messengers sent by Princess Kaiya to scout the countryside have returned with urgent news. A Teleri army, at least fifty thousand strong, now march down the highway. They are a day away.”
Gasps echoed in the hall. Eyes turned to the regent, whose faced blanched. His hands trembled like a maiden’s on her wedding night.
Like hers, on her wedding night. Kaiya studied his panicked look. The poor man, he was playing mahjong without money to back his losses. When accepting the position, he probably thought the imperial army would vanquish Cousin Peng in short order, and he would win all the glory. He would reap the rewards of future peace and prosperity. Now, confronted with an actual crisis…
Around the room, ministers, guards, and lords muttered in bewilderment. If there was a time to unify them all, it was now.
She cleared her throat. “Men of Hua. I am Daughter of the Dragon Throne. Hear me.”
Young Lord Chen dropped to his knee before her. “What do you command, Dian-xia?”
Eyes shifted from the regent to her. Most importantly, the imperial guards sheathed their swords, and their commander, General Jin, looked at her with an expectant gaze.
What should she say? Warning the regent of impending invasion was one thing; taking command, something completely different. Somewhere, Jie was laughing at her expense. No, leave strategies to the military leaders, provisioning to the experts.
Tilting her head, Kaiya extended an open hand to the messenger. No, too feminine. She squared her shoulders and tightened the hand into a fist. “Send messengers to all imperial barracks in and near the capital, ordering them to mobilize. Summon all our generals to the palace at once.”
She took four steps and alighted the dais, then turned to face the assembled officials and lords. Someone among them had to know something about provisions and administration. Chief Minister Hong was nowhere to be seen. “Who is the senior-most official present?”
The ministers looked among themselves, and several inched back. Not a single one stood. All these officials had passed civil service examinations, yet apparently none had ever endured true adversity.
In matters of hardship, she had much more experience. She nodded to a page. “Summon former Chief Minister Song to the palace to resume his post.” A post he’d only held for a few days, but he’d proven his administrative skills during his tenure as Foreign Minister.
The hall burst into quiet whispers. Minister Geng, still staring at her chest, said, “Minister Song’s son was an insurgent.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. In these desperate times, a man’s capabilities overshadow the sins of his family.”
“But the classics say—”
She scowled at him. “The classics teach a ruler wisdom, but they do little to repel invaders.”
Young Lord Chen cleared his throat. “I nominate Princess Kaiya to replace Lord Liu as regent.”
Kaiya stared at him. Was that even possible? Removal of a sitting regent? And how was a regent appointed? There was no precedent: in the three hundred years of the Wang Dynasty, only the Founder’s consort had ruled as regent before Lord Liu, and she’d pretty much assumed the position.
She looked at Lord Liu’s cushioned chair. Whoever sat there in these trying times had to contend with bickering lords, corrupt officials, and perhaps an assassin’s knife. Only a fool would want the position.
Yet right now, the realm needed her. “I proclaim myself Regent of Hua.”
The hereditary lords followed Lord Chen’s lead, dropping to their knees and bowing. “Jie-xia!” they shouted in unison.
Officials pressed their foreheads to the floor, repeating the chorus.
The imperial guards all faced her and dropped to a knee, fist to the ground. As the only ones with the swords, perhaps their acquiescence mattered the most.
“Jie-xia,” General Jin said.
Eyes glazed over, Lord Liu staggered back into his chair. “I resign as regent. Jie-xia, please take care of my grandson until he comes of age.”
Kaiya swept her gaze over the bowing men. The trust of the lords and ministers might very well be misplaced. If the imperial armies couldn’t mobilize in time, her reign as regent might be short-lived.
Reduced to riding a rickshaw. Hong Jianbin bounced in the seat, each joint between the pavestones sending a flare of pain through his old spine. Now forced into retirement, he had lost the perk of riding in a palanquin, protected from the masses by a wall of guards.
Instead, the rickshaw offered him a front-row view of the panicked citizenry, all rushing to the markets to hoard supplies. The buzz of hushed whispers all repeated the same thing: the Teleri Empire had breached the Great Wall and now marched on the capital.
The driver stopped in front of the Jade Teahous
e. Unlike the rest of the city, the Floating World seemed calm as always. If one thing remained constant, regardless of whether the Tianzi or a foreign conqueror sat on the Jade Throne, it was a man’s need for entertainment.
Tripping over his robes, Hong stumbled out of the rickshaw. He straightened himself and offered a silver ring to the wide-eyed driver, though it was worth much more than the cost of the trip. Hong carried no money. He never had to in the palace. Without looking back, he trudged into the teahouse.
The proprietress bowed as he walked through the common area and into the back hallway. He pushed open the secret entrance to Leina’s house. His house. Now stripped of his title, he would probably never see his official villa ever again.
Inside the parlor, Leina sat, studying a weiqi board. A white stone danced between her delicate fingers, but the other seat across the table was empty. Hong creaked into the vacant chair, and Leina looked up. Sucking in her breath, she stood and bowed. “My lord, I did not hear you come in. Let me get you some tea.” She turned toward the kitchen.
“Wait.” He cast her a bitter smile.
“My lord, why so glum?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.
Why, indeed. Because his dreams were dead. He would not become a hereditary lord, not marry Princess Kaiya, nor become regent. Years of planning, all for naught. They were Leina’s dreams, too, and he had failed her as well. A tear threatened to cloud his vision, but he blinked it away. “I was forced to resign.”
Her hand pulled back and she stared at him, mouth almost agape. “What happened?”
“Regent Liu no longer had need of my services. I am sorry, you will not become the second most powerful woman in Hua, as I promised.”
“My lord.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. You have already given me so much. We still have each other. Come, have some tea. Tea makes everything better.” She glided across the room with a grace of a dancer and disappeared into the kitchen.
Did she really not care about their forfeited dreams? If so, perhaps it was not a total loss. He was a fishmonger’s son, yet had once risen to the most powerful office in Hua. An exotic young woman loved him. He still had her, this house, and plenty of money in a bank.