Page 3 of Four Ruined Realms (The Broken Blades #2)

Royo

City of Quu, Khitan

We got to Khitan without killing each other—so that’s something.

The capital sits right on the harbor like how Tamneki squats on the sea, but Quu looks nothing like Yusan. There’s a huge mountain towering over the city with villas carved into the sides and a golden palace at the top. The castle shines like a lighthouse, even in this rain.

I adjust my hood over my hair. I thought about shaving it on the ship, but I dunno, I’ve gotten used to it. We trudge through the soggy streets of Quu. Cobblestones wind in every direction, and the painted houses are stacked up next to each other. We pass homes painted apple red, evergreen, deep blue, or mustard yellow. It’s a mashup, and the people are, too. Some are Yusanian, a lot are Khitanese. There’s a few Weian, and some must be from the Outer Lands. It’s all a wet hodgepodge of familiar and foreign. Especially the women, who dress like men, with weapons on their belts and pants on their legs.

I knew we were going to another place, but I didn’t think Khitan would be this different.

It is.

We make it to the Gray Shore Inn after a confusing series of turns. We didn’t actually go that far, though. I can smell the salt of the harbor and see the ship sails from the lobby as Mikail checks us in. It’s a nice enough spot, despite Euyn bellyaching about it under his breath. It’s no palace, but it’s dry and warm. That’s all you need in a storm.

Mikail hands me my key. The girls went to the powder room as soon as we walked in, and they’re still in there. I think about waiting for Aeri even though I shouldn’t. I got nothing to say to her. Or too much. Sometimes, it’s all the same.

I go up to my room and toss my bag onto a patterned chair. Weapons clang inside, but the gold bars and the million-cut diamond are gone—taken by the palace before they sent us on this trip. All of the money I saved to buy Hwan’s freedom. All of those years of blood work. All of the screams and death and close calls for no coin. I never let it in, the shit I’ve done, because it was what I had to do. But now that it was all for nothing, everything rushes back.

The pleas for mercy, the cries and death throes echo in my head. The ghosts of past wrongs stand over me. The men who ain’t did nothing to me but I made bleed. My shoulders fall, the weight too much. The gurgling, the begging, the tears. I put my palms over my ears to make it stop. Doesn’t help because the sound is in me.

No. I shake my head and stand up straight. Everything I did can’t be for no reason. It all led me here. I’ll free an innocent man. And by killing the king, we’ll save a bunch of prisoners who don’t deserve to die. Maybe it won’t balance my scales, but it won’t hurt none either.

I throw off the memories and strike a match, starting a fire. We’ve got a job to do.

The dry wood in the hearth sparks to life, the flames dancing on the logs. Fire is the best comfort when you’re wet and weary. The only thing better is the arms of someone you love.

Aeri.

No. Not Aeri . Princess Naerium.

She was a princess this whole fucking time. And she said nothing.

My chest squeezes. I’ve got no money and no girl, all because she was playing me from the start. And even knowing all that, I still couldn’t help myself. I listened at the wall on the ship, making sure she was safe in her room. I patrolled to keep the others from killing her. Because what I had with her felt real. Because I’m lonely. Because I am the king of fucking chumps.

I groan, tipping my head back. I stare at the tin ceiling. I gotta stop. I gotta turn cold. I can’t care what happens to Princess Naerium. Aeri is dead to me—I have to accept it.

But I can’t.

I keep going back to the fact that Aeri stole the crown in the arena. She did her part for us. She chose us and double-crossed the king.

No, she double-crossed her father . She had talked about them as separate people, and I fell for it. The same way I fell for her—hopelessly, stupidly. It wasn’t real.

Except that after we were captured, she begged for my freedom. Only me.

I run a hand down my face as my thoughts loop around for the hundredth fucking time. My scar hurts, my face aching. The week on the ship allowed me to heal and for my headache to fade. This is the best I’ve felt physically since I left Umbria and the worst because of Aeri.

And Bay Chin.

As confused as I am about her, the only thing I want with the northern count is to watch him bleed. He was the one who told Aeri to look for me. He was the one who set up Hwan. I don’t know why—I’m not smart enough to figure it all out. But I am strong enough. I will make it out of Khitan and watch Bay Chin breathe his last gasp in front of me. I will be the last thing he sees before the light leaves his eyes.

There’s a knock on my door, and I’m halfway to answering before I realize I’m only racing there because I think it’s Aeri. Chances are it’s not. She didn’t look for me on the ship. Not once. Not to apologize. Not to explain herself. Nothing.

Because she doesn’t care. Not really.

I let the sting of that settle into my bones. I need to let it hurt—pain is the only thing that’s going to make me wise up.

I turn the doorknob, and it’s not her. Disappointment sits heavy in my chest, but I shake it off. It’s Sora, and her eyes are ringed with sadness from missing her sister and Tiyung. Or because Euyn hunted her father. Or for any other shit reason we’re here.

“We need to go over the plan now that we’re in Khitan,” she says. Her nice voice sounds weary. She’s the best of us, though. The only one who hasn’t lied. Well, I guess I haven’t, either. Except to myself, but that don’t count.

“Okay.” I grab another blade and tuck it into my belt.

Sora wants to start a war. I still kind of think we should give Joon the ring, but if what Mikail said is true, Sora’s plan is the only shot I have at saving Hwan.

That’s a big if, though. The spymaster could just be lying. I don’t get why everyone always believes him.

She knocks on the door next to mine. Aeri’s room. Furniture creaks and groans, and the door opens a crack. A sliver of Aeri’s face appears before she swings the door wider and steps out. She pauses when she sees me. Her big brown eyes meet mine—a little afraid, a little hopeful.

I look away.

It was easier to hate her when I didn’t have to see the worry in her eyes. She seems guilty, sorry, but if she were, she would’ve said it. Nah. She has the same amount of remorse as the rest of her family—none.

Next, we go to Euyn’s suite. After a while, he answers, too. He shrinks back, his shoulders coming forward when he sees Sora. He’s thinner than when we left Yusan, his cheekbones sharper. I think he got seasick. Pretty sure I heard him puking as I patrolled.

“Where’s Mikail?” I ask. There’s nobody in the room with Euyn.

“In his room,” Euyn says. “One over.”

He points to the left, then shuts his door. The bolt turns with a snap. The three of us look at one another and then walk away. The hallway has ugly red-and-white wallpaper. I’m staring at the walls, the floors, anything to avoid looking at Princess Naerium . Still, I can feel her next to me. Still, I want to reach out for her.

I shove my hands in my pockets.

Sora knocks on Mikail’s door, and there’s no answer. She glances at me. I bang on the wood in case Mikail fell asleep.

Nothing.

“Must be gone,” I say.

“What if something happened to him?” Aeri asks. She plays with the hem of her mid-thigh dress. I look away from her legs, which is harder than it should be.

“Let’s ask Euyn,” Sora says.

Once again, Euyn takes two lifetimes to answer the door. I thought he’d changed, got less paranoid, after facing off with his brother in the throne room. Guess not.

“Did Mikail say he was going out?” Sora asks.

Euyn shakes his head, and his eyebrows come together. “No, he should be in there.”

“Well he ain’t,” I say.

Euyn strokes his beard as his eyes dart around. “That’s odd. Come in or go, though.”

He grips the doorknob. I don’t know what he thinks will happen or why he thinks a closed door would stop it. One kick and the wood would be in splinters. But I don’t say it.

“Maybe I should pick his lock?” Aeri says.

All of us turn to her.

Right. She’s a thief. A pickpocket. A con artist. Plus, a princess.

Euyn’s mouth slants. “Be careful if you do. He could have trapped the room.”

Great.

“Should we wait?” Sora asks.

Aeri shakes her head. “We need to check. If he’s not okay, we have to find him. Without him, we have no way of getting to the queen.”

Everybody realizes she’s got a point. Euyn can speak Khitanese, but Mikail is the one with real knowledge about how this place works. He’s the only one who can get us to the throne.

“Can I borrow your hairpins, Sora?” Aeri asks.

Sora’s eyebrows knit, but she takes out her two silver hairpins and hands them over.

We go back to Mikail’s room, and Aeri studies the door. She gets on the ground and puts her cheek to the worn carpet. There’s just a crack of space under the door. I don’t think it’s wide enough for her to see, but she takes out a dagger from inside her cloak and slides the blade under. I wonder what she’s doing until I realize she’s trying to spring traps.

“I think it’s clean,” she says.

She sits up on her knees and peers into the keyhole before putting the pins in and fiddling with them. In seconds, the door unlocks. Weird for royalty to be able to pick locks, but she did say she had to make it on her own for a while. Then again, that could just be another lie.

Aeri turns the handle. As the door opens, I yank her to the side in case there was a trap she missed. She falls against me and lands with her back to my chest. Memories of Rahway, of hiding in the alleyway, flood my head. That smell of flowers fills my nose.

She turns and looks at me with those beautiful eyes. Her lips part.

“Thank you,” she says breathlessly.

My heart swells, and I want her. Still.

But it doesn’t matter. In Rahway, we ran so the king’s guard wouldn’t recognize her. So I wouldn’t find out she was a princess.

I force myself to take my hands off her and step away. I really gotta stop touching her.

The room’s now open, and we peer inside. I don’t see any traps, but you can’t be too careful with someone like Mikail.

Step by creaky step, we make it all the way in—the room ain’t large. Bed, chair, dresser, nightstand, washroom.

The bed is made, and Mikail’s bag sits on top. It only takes a second to realize there’s no one here.

He’s gone.