Page 57 of The Last Tiger

Seung

Ican feel them, just beyond the walls.

The crowd of people. Waiting for us to come out.

A low roar rumbles outside, shouts and murmurs building on each other. There’s a tense atmosphere hanging, ready to snap at any moment.

There must be thousands of people out there. I can feel their hearts beating.

We’re being held at the Imperial Palace at the center of Hannam City, below Mount Tangun. Where the royal Tiger lineage once lived, generations ago. Where today, the governor-general rules with an iron fist.

Eunji and I are waiting for the general’s cue to appear at the right moment in his tightly choreographed wedding ceremony. In, out; we’re to play our parts and then quickly leave. The general wants no hiccups this time.

Luckily for us, with the thick visor of the Dragon helmet obscuring my face, none of the guards have suspected that the boy in the wedding uniform isn’t Kenzo Kobayashi.

They walked us obediently up from the prison cells to await our fate.

Eunji was hustled into a ceremonial dress, her face painted with haste.

Now she and I stand alone, in a rare moment of quiet.

Eunji’s stunning in the cherry-blossom wedding kimono. Its hem flows around her feet. Despite her brightly decorated visage, Eunji’s face is dark, her fists tightly balled. Adrenaline lances through her veins; I see it sparking as blue electricity all over her.

“Hey.” I reach out a hand, touching her wrist gently. I pour a quiet confidence from my fingertips into her: a golden-red glow, the shape of a candle flame. Eunji sighs. The blue electric current steadies, settling down into a low hum.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her gaze is unfocused.

Kenzo’s uniform feels wrong on me: The proportions are off, the breastplate too heavy, the fine silk hanging loose at my wrists. The thick visor of his Dragon helmet casts the hallway in a dark light, making it difficult to see.

On the other end of the doors, the tinny sound of someone’s voice on a loudspeaker rises up, followed by the roar of the crowd. Eunji and I share a glance.

“You look nice,” I say.

“Mm,” she says absentmindedly. She looks back at the door. We can both hear the continued shouts of the crowd. A moment passes before she adds, “You too.”

“You can’t even see my face. I could be Kenzo, for all you know.”

A smile almost graces her lips.

“Feels a little strange on me.” I gesture at the Dragon uniform.

“Here. You need to fix the…” She adjusts my shoulder plates, tightening the brass buttons on my shirt. “There, that’s better.”

Her fingertips linger on my collarbones.

For a moment, we stand, still, as dust wavers in and out of the dim rays of light piercing the tinted hallway windows.

A muffled voice intones over the loudspeaker again. Next to me, Eunji pales.

“Be careful out there,” she whispers. “Seung. Promise me—no matter what happens—you’ll be safe.”

“We’ll be okay, Eunji. I promise.” I force a smile into my voice. “That’s why you’re here, right? To be my bodyguard? Make sure I don’t get speared in the face?”

She chuckles. “Right.”

“We can save her, Eunji. I know we can.”

“We need more time ,” she mutters. We’ll be up any minute.

“Hey—think of it this way,” I say, trying to calm her nerves. “It’s just like the good old days.”

Eunji smiles, the memory coming to her. “Sneaking out again.”

“Together.”

“One of us in disguise.”

“And one of us is an incredibly brilliant, powerful individual with a good heart.”

“Make that two.” She flashes a wan smile.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought I was talking about you ? Awkward.”

The crease between Eunji’s brows eases for a moment, laughter hinting on her lips.

“Is it true, by the way?” I cast a side glance her way.

“Is what true?”

“What you said on the mountain.”

Eunji flinches. She looks at her feet. “What did I say?”

“You said…that you loved me.”

She holds my gaze. I can sense her pulse pounding through her chest. With each beat it grows louder.

“You tell me, Seung,” she says quietly. “That’s your specialty, isn’t it?”

I take her hand between my palms. It’s soft and warm, despite the strength held within it.

Eunji reaches up and runs a finger along the bottom edge of my mask. She pushes the visor of the helmet up ever so slightly, the ridge just above my nose, then barely brushes my chin with her fingertips.

I lean forward. I kiss her. Eunji pulls me in, our fingers interlocking. Golden light explodes out from my heart, the glow piercing even through our closed eyelids. Our heartbeats briefly sync as her hand slides up my arm to my shoulder, then rests gently behind my neck.

An eternity passes as we rest in each other’s warmth.

“I love you too,” I tell her. “I always have.”

Heavy footsteps ring out behind us as a group of Dragon soldiers marches into the hallway. I step back and yank my helmet down just in time as they fan out, ready to escort us onto the stage.

“You first.” One of them points at Eunji. “Kobayashi, wait here. You’ll enter on opposite sides.”

Eunji brushes back a strand of her hair as she follows the soldiers, glancing back at me. I give her a wave. Then a sea of white-blue light washes over her as a soldier heaves open the immense wooden door. Outside, a series of stadium lights have been set up in front of the palace.

The roar of the crowd multiplies tenfold as Eunji steps outside.

The audience of Tiger folk have not been deceived. It’s clear to see that nobody thinks this is a joyous occasion. Encircling the palace steps, Dragon soldiers stand at each entrance, monitoring the crowd.

The crowd’s hollers become a chaotic uproar as several Dragon soldiers with katanas march onstage. Their boots drum on the stage floor in unison; the oceanic echoing sound of a horagai conch horn blares through the sky.

And then the audience falls quiet. Until across the stadium, only one sound can be heard: the clinking of massive chains rattling across the stone floor as the tiger laboriously walks forward, between the rows of soldiers.

She limps, her tail dragging. I have to resist the urge to call out to her from my perch at the edge of the steps.

Several more soldiers enter now, pouring out of the wings and onstage—dragging two prisoners with bags over their heads, their wrists bound behind their backs.

It’s Kenzo and Jin.

Eunji and I briefly lock eyes. She pales.

From the look of things, it’s pretty clear why they’ve been brought out here. Two of the soldiers in front are carrying ceremonial katanas, the swords held limp in their gloved hands.

And then—

The enormous grand doors at the back of the palace steps swing open—

Governor-General Isao walks through.

The Dragon soldiers in formation all fall to one knee. The general wears a grim, businesslike smile. Behind it, I can feel him crowing with triumph. It gleams like dark gold in his breast.

Isao approaches the microphone standing in the center of the stage. The brilliant white beams of the stadium lights shine down on him. He looks over the crowd, ebullient.

“Good evening.” Isao’s voice crackles, amplified, as it echoes around the stadium. It’s answered with thousands of stony glares. “Today is a celebration—of love . People of the Tiger Colonies. You are lucky today.

“Today, we celebrate a grand union. One that symbolizes the entrance of the Tiger Colonies into the Dragon Empire’s great and powerful family. You will be a part of us forevermore.

“Please join me in roundly welcoming the Dragon Empire’s Kenzo Kobayashi, and Eunji Yamamoto of the Tiger Colonies!”

Isao opens his arms wide as the soldiers bordering the arena burst into applause. Someone places a hand on my shoulder.

“That’s your cue,” the officer grunts.

As instructed, I make my way across the stage toward the governorgeneral. With each stride, I feel the crowd’s gaze on me.

I don’t bother looking out at them or meeting the general’s eyes. Instead, I keep mine directed firmly forward, across the stairs, to where Eunji emerges now. Her hands are clasped in front of her.

From the loudspeaker, a wedding song blares.

We close the distance between us, making our way toward Isao. In mere seconds, we arrive at center stage, taking our place behind him.

Up close, the force of the general’s presence is almost difficult for me to withstand.

The light seems to bend around him; a glorious, awful joy sits in Isao’s heart, glittering and gleaming.

Within him, I sense an unconquerable will to power.

Nations have fallen, whole peoples have been cut down under the sword, at the orders of this one man.

A Dragon soldier shuffles over, bringing forth the two ceremonial wedding flasks on a flat, circular tray. He bows, handing it to Isao. Isao raises the tray with one hand toward the audience. The stadium beams ring its edges with light.

Isao extends the cups forward. One for me, one for Eunji. His expression is all velvet and grace.

I raise my hand to take the flask—

Eunji does the same—

And then, almost imperceptibly, she nods—

I redirect my hand toward Isao, sending a dark cloud of fear hurtling in his direction. At the same time, Eunji knocks the tray aside and grabs Isao by the throat. The two glass cups shatter against the stone ground beside us. I rip the helmet off my head and throw it aside as the crowd gasps.

Isao’s face turns red with indignation.

Seconds pass with no movement at all. Every Dragon soldier in the arena is paralyzed, hands at their swords—

“Nobody move! Or the governor-general gets it,” Eunji shouts into the microphone. Her voice resonates throughout the stadium.

The entire audience is silent.

The Dragon soldiers look at one another, uncertain. I turn up the pressure on Isao. Quaking, his teeth clenched, the general raises a trembling hand to the air as if to say, Stand down.

“I’ve got him,” I hiss.