Page 5 of King Foretold (Realm of Four Kingdoms #2)

I thought the one-on-one training with Captain Seo was punishment enough for my earlier “insubordination,” but I was wrong .

.. again. Not to say the one-on-one wasn’t punishing.

She was relentless and demanding, and my legs felt like wilted asparagus by the time she was done with me.

It just wasn’t the full extent of my punishment.

I’m on my hands and knees, wiping the floor of the cadet barracks with a wet rag folded into the size of my palm.

But the tiny rag and the hands-and-knees method isn’t part of some cruel and unusual punishment.

This is how everyone in Korea cleans their floors.

Or they used to, at least. My mother and I cleaned our small, thatched-roof hanok like this every morning after we folded away our bedding.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Hana says, crouching down to peer into my face. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” I thump down on my ass and use my hands to pull my legs out, one-by-one, in front of me. “As fine as a person can be after fourteen hours of training.”

“I can’t believe Captain Seo made you train for two extra hours.

The Mean Girls are saying you needed it because you’re hopelessly bad.

” My roommate crinkles her nose like something reeks, color rising to her round, childlike cheeks.

“I’d be offended on your behalf if they weren’t so obviously wrong.

You’re one of the best cadets we have. They’re just making themselves look stupid with their lies. ”

“They don’t need lies to look stupid.” I yawn, rubbing the back of my hand across my eyes.

“You must be starving.” Hana tuts her tongue and takes out something wrapped in a handkerchief from the folds of her dobok. “Here, I brought you some jumeokbap.”

“Where d’you get these?” I reach for the rice balls and stuff half of one in my mouth before she can answer.

“One of the kitchen attendants likes me.” She shrugs modestly. Hana is a being of Mountains like me, but unlike me, everyone finds her sweet and lovable. “I told her you missed your dinner, and she just whipped these up for me.”

“They’re delicious.” I wolf down a second jumeokbap.

“She drizzled toasted sesame oil on warm rice and crumbled some roasted seaweed over it, then mixed it all up.” My roommate’s face splits into a cherubic smile. It’s really hard not to like her. Gods know I tried. “I helped her shape them into those fist-sized balls.”

I raise the last rice ball and open my mouth big, then pause to glance at Hana. Being considerate is also not my forte, but I belatedly ask, “Do you want some?”

“No, I’m full.” She shakes her head, pressing her lips together as though I might stuff the jumeokbap in her mouth. “I brought them for you.”

Hana needn’t have worried. I scarf down the last rice ball so fast, it’s gone before she finishes her sentence.

She gives me an indulgent smile and folds her sage green handkerchief into a neat square.

My sappy roommate tenderly runs her fingertips over the delicate lilacs embroidered in the corner before tucking the handkerchief back into her dobok.

She once unnecessarily shared that lilacs were her favorite flower.

I didn’t have an answer when she asked me for mine.

I mean, why in the worlds would I have a favorite flower?

“Duna and I are going for a walk in the flower field at the edge of the city. Lilies are in bloom, and they’re her favorite.”

Duna is my roommate’s twin sister. The Order of the Suhoshin normally doesn’t accept more than one sibling from each family as a cadet, probably due to the astounding death rate, but the Shim sisters seem to be an exception. I assume it’s a twin thing.

“That’s nice,” I say with minimal sarcasm.

“Do you want to come with us?” Hana continues, taking my words at face value. “Maybe you can decide which flower you like best, then I can make you a handkerchief with your favorite flower embroidered on it.”

“No, thanks.” But at Hana’s crestfallen expression—Why is she crestfallen when I never say yes?—I rush to add, “I have more ... chores to finish. Sorry.”

“Oh no. You poor thing. I totally understand.” My roommate pats my knee, pursing her lips in sympathy. “Duna’s going to be disappointed.”

I barely stop myself from laughing out loud.

Shim Duna, while identical to Hana in appearance, is her sister’s polar opposite in disposition.

While Hana exudes warmth and light everywhere she goes, Duna is a sullen, taciturn shadow, orbiting her sister and her circle of friends.

I avoid interacting with Duna as much as possible, because contrary to popular belief, grumpy plus grumpy does not make happy.

And Duna rubs me the wrong way—something about her sets me on edge—not that I would ever tell Hana that. My roommate loves her twin sister and cares about me for some unfathomable reason. If she finds out Duna and I have a mutual aversion to each other, Hana will be heartbroken.

Besides, I wasn’t lying about having unfinished chores.

I have to rendezvous with a stabby historian for my nightly magic lesson.

And it’s definitely a chore. My stomach clenches with nerves.

How many people am I letting down with my continued failures?

Is Ethan disappointed in me? Is that why he hasn’t come to see me?

“Don’t worry,” Hana consoles me, mistaking my sigh for disappointment. “We’ll go again when you’re free.”

“I would ... like that.” I sound halfway convincing. “Well, thank you for the jumeokbap. I better finish cleaning the floors.”

“I wish I could help you ...” She eyes the folded rag on the floor.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn. “You won’t be doing either of us a favor.”

“I guess not,” she says with a small pout. “Knowing Captain Seo, she’ll probably double your punishment.”

“That’s right.” I give her a pointed look. “Bye now.”

“Okay.” Hana rises to her feet in one graceful motion. It must be nice to have functioning legs, unlike my sore, wobbly ones. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Once my roommate rounds the corner, I struggle onto my hands and knees and fall into the repetitive rhythm of scrubbing and scooting until I’ve carried out my sentence.

When I’m done, I want to lie down right on the hallway floor and go to sleep, but a quick glance out the window tells me I’m late for my date with Minju.

I scramble to my feet and haul ass to Jihun’s estate, the only place secure enough for our clandestine lessons.

I sneak out of the cadet barracks and move swiftly through the shadowy alleyways.

I can’t moon shift and risk someone tracing my magic there for obvious reasons, and also because I’m breaking curfew.

When I first came to the Kingdom of Sky, Jihun petitioned to sponsor me so the Council of the Suhoshin would grant me amnesty. Those assholes will punish him for any infractions I commit, so I’ve become a reluctant rule follower.

Fortunately, Jihun’s estate is not far from the Suhoshin headquarters, and I climb over the wall to the eastern wing in less than ten minutes. I slide open the latticed study door too hard, making it shake in its frame, and stand panting in the doorway.

Minju sits at the modern conference table, a solemn frown on her exquisite face. She is nowhere near as uncompromising as Captain Seo, but I’ll take the captain’s nasty sneers over the historian’s quiet disappointment any day.

“You’re late, Sunny,” Minju chides in a calm, even voice. “You know how important these lessons are. Time is not on our side.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” I say stiffly and walk into the study.

“For some unfathomable reason, Jihun asked Captain Seo to give me one-on-one training, so I spent two hours after the regular training being berated by her. Then, as punishment for mouthing off at her this morning, I had to clean the floors with an itty-bitty rag ...”

“Oh no.” Minju rises from her chair and crosses the room toward me. “Have you eaten?”

My face crumples at her concerned words. It’s been a long day. I sniff and nod. “Hana brought me some rice balls.”

“That’s good.” She leads me to the table by my hand. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

“Everywhere.” I have the weirdest urge to hug the historian and sob into her shoulder, but I fight against the disquieting impulse. I’m stronger than this.

Minju gently nudges me to take a seat at the table and sits down next to me.

Then she places her hand on my thigh and softly chants an incantation, a silvery light glowing from where her hand meets my leg.

My aches and pains disappear like magic—har har—and my body feels like my own again.

I feel more like myself. I hurriedly shift my leg, forcing Minju to withdraw her hand.

“Thank you,” I croak and lock away my vulnerabilities.

I have to remember I’m not safe here. This realm isn’t my home, and the Shinbiin aren’t my people.

As for Jihun and his team—Hailey, Jaeseok, and Minju—are they my people?

What about Draco, the angsty dragon spirit who reminds me so much of my younger self?

Are Hana and Haesan my people? No. They’re not my people either.

I can’t deny that they are my friends, but friends come and go.

Forming attachments only leads to pain. It’s inevitable. I can’t forget that.

Case in point, all I got from falling in love with Ethan was constant heartache.

It hurts I can’t be with him when I know in the depths of my messed-up soul that he’s my person and my home.

And having him so near makes it hurt even more.

Gods, I hate it here. This perfect little kingdom that has no place for me.

Ethan and my friends only make me want to belong somewhere I can’t. The more time I spend with them, the more I want to stay by their side. They’re changing me, and I’m afraid it’ll ruin me. I want to run until I forget everyone, even myself.