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“Both of you, tell your men to back off and stop fighting,” I snapped.

Yexue held his hand high, and like magic, his men stopped.

Siwang did the same, still choking, gulping for air, clutching his wound. I didn’t like the way his breathing sounded: raspy, hollow.

“You need a doctor, now,” I told Siwang.

He didn’t answer me, didn’t even look at me; all his attention was on his broken hand and its mangled bones. Bent at such angles that I didn’t need to be a physician to know it would never heal to its former self. Siwang would never hold the reins of a horse, pick up a brush, sword, or bow ever again.

All the things he’d loved. All the things he took pride in, that his father praised him for, because these were the things that were expected of him.

“Can you breathe?” I asked, and I heard my voice waver. Had the knife punctured his lungs?

Siwang wasn’t listening to me. He was crying and laughing all at once as he fell on his back, gasping for shallow breaths. “I am not going to sign that treaty. I am not going to give away my land and my people to ademon!”

“Watch your mouth,” Yexue hissed, hands tightening back into fists. Before Yexue could do anything, I drew my hand back and slapped Siwang.

Blood pounded in my ears. He looked as stunned as I was. “You will sign the treaty,” I said simply. “Or watch your people die senselessly for your pride. What happened to all those books you read? Why are you so set on sabotaging your one chance at surviving this war?”

His lips quivered, eyes watering.

I turned away. I didn’t want to watch him cry. I would rather shed those tears and bear the burden of his sorrows myself than watch Siwang, my perfect and beloved Siwang, break down like this. Though he might have already shattered before my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Siwang whispered. “I—”

“????????,” Yexue interjected.The punishment of death can be spared, but punishment itself will not.“Even if he agrees to sign the treaty, he must pay for his crimes. He has spilled the blood of Lan. His sins must be atoned for.” A wave of Yexue’s hands, and a shuffle of soldiers came forth.

“No!” I gasped.

“Lan Yexue, don’t push your luck,” Caikun hissed from somewhere behind Siwang, raising his blade.

“Everyone…stand down,” Siwang wheezed. “Lan Yexue is right…I need to…atone for my sins….”

“No, you can’t,” I said to Yexue. “There will be no peace if you take Siwang as hostage. The emperor will never let this stand, and he will exhaust every resource to get Siwang back.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Yexue grumbled. “My mercy comes at a price, and if he does not take this last shred of kindness with grace, then I will conquer Rong the same way he tried to conquer Lan all those years ago.”

“What if I am willing to bargain for your mercy?” I said, meetingthe full weight of his gaze. “Let’s play a game. Whoever loses will grant the winner one wish. Whatever they want. If I win, you will let Siwang go on the condition that he signs the treaty.”

I looked over at Siwang to make sure he was listening. He didn’t object, which was enough of a win, I guessed.

Yexue grimaced. “Why is it always him? Why do you always choosehim?”

Because he’s Siwang. Because he’s my friend. Because…“Because I don’t want anyone else to die,” I said, a half lie.

“And if I win? Then I get to ask you forwhateverI want?”

“Whatever you want.” I looked down at a stray arrow not too far from us. “The imperial hunt wasn’t where we first met, but it was how our fates became tangled. It’ll be poetic, letting a hunt determineeverything.”

Yexue laughed. “Do you think I was born yesterday? We both know you have too much of an advantage on that front.”

“What do you propose, then?”

Yexue looked around the battlefield as my insides twisted. If he turned down this bargain, it would be over for Rong. And if the Rong dynasty fell, what would happen to Siwang, who was raised to do one thing and one thing alone?

Then, almost begrudgingly, Yexue nodded. “I will pick the game, and choose the location. We meet in my camp in one hour. All you have to do is bring yourself.”

“Your camp?”