Page 15 of Four Ruined Realms (The Broken Blades #2)

Aeri

City of Quu, Khitan

Tonight was a total failure. All I learned is that the ambassador thinks he is excellent at everything, beloved by everyone, and likes to ice fish. Not really the realm-shattering secrets we were hoping to uncover.

“But how do you keep from freezing?” Sora asked during dessert. No idea how she had questions when the ambassador spoke nonstop.

“There are warming huts by the shore,” he said. “Or you can make a fire right on the ice.”

“A fire on the ice?” Sora gasped. “How incredible.”

She looked at the ambassador as if she hung on his every word. I don’t know how she did it.

The meal ended without us getting a second chance to talk to the general. We’ll have to find another way. If Mikail can get ahold of the blueprints to her office, then I can sneak in. Or maybe they are doing better than we are. I hope so. It would be hard to do worse.

Dancing begins, and I wish Royo were here for the hundredth time tonight. Yes, he’d hate this whole thing, and he’d refuse to dance with me. He’d probably stand by the map on the wall with his arms folded, refusing to enjoy life. But I would try, and he would soften. And then eventually, maybe he’d hold me like the couples spinning around the floor.

It’s almost like I can feel his hands on my waist, but then I remember he hates me and a knot forms in my throat.

The moment the music starts, the ambassador takes the opportunity to paw at Sora. They make their way toward the center of the room, and I wander closer to the general while admiring the golden weapons on the wall. The part of me that will always be a thief considers stealing one. My fingers itch to take the jewel-encrusted throwing knife, but I leave the blade alone. The last thing I need is to cause a scene or alert the many guards in this room. We are only here to gather information.

Instead, I move toward the enormous map of Khitan. I find Lake Cerome. It’s not far from Vashney, the original capital of Khitan. Quu itself was once part of Yusan. Khitan invaded during a war centuries ago and battled Yusan until they gained this warm-water port.

“The queen remains sequestered,” a woman says in Yusanian. I think she’s speaking to me, but then another voice answers her.

“For her own protection and the prince’s, I’m sure,” a man’s voice says. “It was a terrible event.”

My heart races, but I stay still with my back to them, studying the map. I hope they’ll gossip freely in a room that can’t understand them.

“They blame Yusan, you know. The people of Khitan clamor for war, having already accepted her.” The woman sounds not entirely thrilled by either fact.

“Of course,” the man says. “The queen opened the coffers for a widows and orphans fund and built housing for the poor. She increased the realm food subsidy and allowed the gambling halls to reopen. All within the month since the king died mysteriously. All shrewdly popular moves. The queen may have murdered her husband, but she is brilliant.”

I wonder if these changes are as calculating as these diplomats believe, or if Quilimar has helped the people because she cares. If a ruler is doing good for the people, bettering the lives of thousands, does it even matter?

“The ambassador has a new favorite,” the woman says.

“I hear he’s to be made regent for the Count of Tamneki,” the man says.

“Then he’ll be able to afford such splendid company,” the woman says. “Unless, of course, Seok gets there first.”

I bite back a gasp at the mention of the man who holds Sora’s indenture.

“To the courtesan or to the young Count of Tamneki?”

“Both.”

They laugh.

I look back at Sora, and something is off about her. Her spine and movements are rigid as she dances, and she’s never rigid. She flows like water. So that’s weird.

But then I see him and forget to breathe.

Shit. It took me way too long to realize who Sora is dancing with. She’d been dancing with the ambassador and then a handsome, older guy cut in. I didn’t think anything of it because nearly everyone wants to meet Sora. But I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. This one looks a lot like Ty. Which means that’s Seok—the count who owns her and her sister. The one the diplomats were just gossiping about.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She walks away from him and makes it a few steps before her knees give out. Her palm smacks one of the tables as she tries to steady herself.

I race to her and catch her before she falls. She’s pale as snowfall, and her lips quiver. Sora doesn’t even flinch. She certainly doesn’t break down. So, something terrible must’ve happened.

I put my shoulder under her arm to try to help her walk out of the room. Seok stares and then shakes his stupor.

“Guards! Authorities! There is an assassin in the room! Protect the general.”

Great. His words cause pure chaos. Guards shift to alert, and people begin to scream and run. The general is spirited out by a squadron of guards.

“Run,” I whisper to Sora.

She can’t. Sora can’t move. She’s falling apart in a way I haven’t seen, which can only mean something happened to Daysum.

I eye her with sympathy, but we need to get the hells out of here. And it would be good if she could help.

She can’t.

Fuck. What do I do now? I’m not strong enough to carry her, and Royo isn’t here.

I had the same problem on the Sol River when the pirates attacked. I couldn’t move someone as big as Royo. But at least I could cut the lifeboat, get it beneath him, and let him fall into it as I froze and unfroze time. I can’t do that in the armory. There’s no lifeboat here.

I look around and spot a dessert cart. That’ll work. I run over to it.

Once I’m within a foot of the cart, I reach into my dress and grab the amulet. With the Sands of Time in my palm, everything instantly stops. The sands of the golden bell glass freeze mid-fall. Sora looks ready to faint, but she stops breathing. People are mid-stride, mid-scream, but everyone is suddenly still. There’s not a movement or a sound. The quiet is the oddest part. Well, the whole thing is weird, since it’s god magic. But the quiet of etherum always throws me off.

I push the desserts off the cart and then shove Sora onto it. It’s not dignified, but I have to move fast. With every second I hold time, I lose about a day, then a sunsae, then a month. The longer I hold, the quicker I lose my life. And the toll has only gotten worse. The cost seems to be increasing, the fatigue and aging hitting harder and faster with every use.

Once I have Sora on the cart, I wheel her out of the armory to the waiting carriages. As soon as I can, I unfreeze time.

Fatigue hits me like a tidal wave. I only held time for about twenty seconds, but it feels like I haven’t slept well in six months. I wince and bear it, forcing myself to remain upright as time tries to drag me down.

Sora blinks, looking around. She, of course, has no idea what just happened. Royo didn’t, either, when he fell into the boat, but he also hit his head. With Sora, it’s different. One second she was in the armory, and now she is outside in the rain that started falling heavily once I let go of the amulet. She stands up and shakes her head.

“What just happened?” she asks.

“No time to explain. Get in,” I say. Even my voice sounds weary.

The confused valet races to open the carriage door for us. I don’t know whose carriage this is, and it doesn’t matter.

“Bring the lady to the Gray Shore Inn. She is in distress.” I hold my head high as I settle onto the seat and issue the command like I’m nobility. Like of course this coachman will take me anywhere I demand.

But it works. Looking and acting upper class takes you far. Even in this land of supposed equals.

The carriage begins to roll away. I breathe a sigh of relief and lean against the plush blue velvet. The fatigue in my bones makes it difficult to breathe.

“I don’t understand—how did we go from inside the armory to outside?” Sora asks.

It’s night, but with the huge monsoon moon, I can see her clearly. She looks thoroughly confused when her head tilts and her eyebrows knit.

“You don’t remember?” I ask. I always have to act as surprised as anyone. “Hmm, I guess you don’t. You fainted, and I rolled you out on the dessert cart. Sorry it wasn’t more dignified, but I couldn’t carry you.”

It’s as good an excuse as any.

“Oh,” she says, smoothing her dress.

She allows herself to accept my answer because no one ever thinks it’s etherum. Magic is never anyone’s go-to explanation.

“Thank you, Aeri. I really…” Her voice wobbles. “I really appreciate it.”

Sora stares blankly out the window and twists her hands in her lap. I know that distressed, shocked look. I’ve seen it in the mirror.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I venture.

“Not just yet,” she says.

Then she starts to cry.