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“You warned Adassah. She will take precautions,” Saturn assured. “Maybe we should let these intruders go, and we should focus on feeding the poor again. Just today I saw a boy sitting at the side of the road who looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.”

Guilt prickled Kai’s stomach. “Was he an Adriel?”

“I don’t know,” Saturn admitted. “But when I looked at him, I didn’t care what he was. I just wished I had bread to feed him.”

Kai tapped his forefinger against his arm. “It’s better the people be a little hungry and we keep them safe.”

“Is it?” Saturn turned to face him. His cheeks were flushed from the fire’s warmth. “I wonder if that’s what the starving boy would have said.”

“Saturn—” Kai shook his head “—let’s leave the acts of kindness and the grieving prayers to the priestesses. They can’t carry swords like we can. They don’t understand battle.”

Saturn’s mouth tipped down at the corners. He didn’t exactly object, but his face made Kai wonder if he disagreed.

“I’m going to keep following the spies for now. As I do, I’ll continue rescuing Adriel people with my sword,” Kai said. “For our people, we must be persistent.”

“You’re going to get caught,” Saturn warned. “It’s only a matter of time before the Folke discover it’s the Adriel priests out in the streets being vigilantes and causing a ruckus. You boyswill only be able to raise your swords against the King’s guards for so long.”

Kai chewed on his bottom lip. “Don’t lose hope, Saturn,” he finally said.

“I’ll never lose hope. I just wonder if we’re putting our hope in the wrong things.” Saturn turned to face the fire again. The light of the flames danced along his cheeks. “What if our anger is opening doors that should not be opened?”

Kai huffed. “If the Adriel God spoke to me and clearly told me to drop my sword, I would. But you know he doesn’t speak anymore. Some old Adriel scholars claim he never actuallyspoketo anyone, and that such things were just a figure of speech in the old stories.”

“Maybe we just can’t hear him.” Saturn looked like a green-robed statue with his long white hair. Kai was sure the priest was wasting time with all his thoughts.

“Get some sleep,” Kai suggested. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

With that, Kai headed back to the hall and didn’t stop until he reached the room of cots where dozens of others in emerald green lay sprawled in sleep. He unfastened his sword, took off his boots, and sat on his cot.

For several minutes, he didn’t lay down. His mind raced with thoughts of purging the kingdom of Weylin people, the way Weylins were so desperate to rid the land of Adriels. Kai considered himself a religious and devout man. He’d done enough kindness in his lifetime, including raising his younger cousin. He’d fed many hungry mouths, he’d taught the Adriel scriptures in seminaries, and he’d been a listening ear to countless Adriels in distress. But there was a proper time for everything.

When he finally laid down and drifted off to sleep, his last thoughts were of Ryn.

He wondered if Ryn was all right. He wondered how she was feeling. He wondered if she was safe.

20

XERXES

“So, you’ll let me go? Once you’re cured?”

Xerxes heard Ryn say it to him in his sleep, over and over. A never-ending nightmare.

Xerxes spent most days surviving. From dawn to dusk was a slow passing of time, hour to hour, leaving Xerxes searching for the next escape or a place to hide. But this day was not like most days.

Xerxes found brief pockets of enjoyment sprinkled amidst the dark moments. He wasn’t exactly happy per se, but he didn’t spend the whole morning and afternoon frowning, either. The cooks were in an uproar, the council was restless, and even the Intelligentsia had opened an investigation—complaining and questioning what had happened to all the King’s Prosperity Day cookies.

One Folke guard swore a cookie had fallen from the sky and struck him over the head as though the Divinities were angered. He showed leftover crumbs in his hair as evidence. That had sent many of the highly religious to their knees, begging the Celestial Divinities for mercy. The temple had been full of wailing and weeping all morning.

It was astoundingly hilarious.

But the fuss had become too much to bear after a while, so Xerxes spent the afternoon training with the Folke. His men were getting better, but they weren’t ready for war. In fact, he could hardly imagine them being able to handle thesightof war, should it come their way. Though these men and women guarded his palace, they’d never seen the secret reports that made their way into Xerxes’s hands from his Per-Siana spies hiding in B’rei Mira. They had no idea of the slaughter and horrors taking place just outside the kingdom borders. The Intelligentsia refused to let the Per-Siana people find out thateven the neighbouring kingdom of Messa had been overtaken by Alecsander of B’rei Mira in the last six months. Per-Siana had closed its borders—no news or people in or out. It was the Intelligentsia’s way of preventing panic. Xerxes had rolled his eyes at the command, wondering how the legendary sages could be stupid enough to think that if they closed their eyes and plugged their ears, Alecsander’s armies would suddenly no longer exist and Per-Siana would be safe.

Xerxes had once visited Messa alongside his father when he was young. He’d marvelled at the kingdom’s glasswork which his father claimed ‘almost matched the skill level of Per-Siana’s’. It was impressive for such a small nation. Xerxes had made a friend there during the weeklong visit; a seven-year-old Prince named Norkin. Norkin was the second Prince of the small kingdom and had the lightest hair Xerxes had ever seen. The Messa Prince had reached out to Xerxes with letters a couple of times over the years, but due to Xerxes’s illness, Xerxes could never bring himself to offer a response.

Xerxes assumed Norkin was dead now. That the impressive castle filled with crystal artwork was a heap of rubble and shattered glass.

The air strained in Xerxes’s lungs when he thought about it. His grip tightened on the sword in his hand, and he waved forward his next partner to spar with. He would force the Folke to practice twice as long today. They would hate it because they didn’t understand why they needed it. Like all of Per-Siana, they were clueless.