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ROYO

CITY OF BERM, GAYA

W e’re really fucked.

I mean, not right now. We’re safe at an inn on Gaya, but I’ve thought about it since dawn, and overall, we’re screwed.

Mikail stands by the window of the room, looking down at the white sand and the blue sea.

We got the Golden Ring and made it out of Khitan, which should’ve meant that we won.

Instead, we lost Prince Euyn, found out that Mikail is the last Gayan royal, stole a relic from Wei—an empire that routinely slaughters Yusanians—drowned a bunch of people, and discovered Aeri was lying this whole time.

All of that was yesterday.

I rub the scar on my face as Fallador and Gambria talk to Mikail’s back.

They lied, these two. Fallador was supposed to be the exiled prince of Gaya, and Gambria was supposed to be his royal cousin, but they’re not.

They only came clean because we had to get the fuck out of Quu Harbor.

With Aeri passed out, Mikail was the only one who could wield the Water Scepter.

The relic gleams in his hand. It’s five feet of gold with a sapphire the size of my fist at the top. The metal and gem alone make it valuable, but it’s the etherum, the god magic, that allows it to control the sea.

“…you weren’t the only one. Mikail, are you listening?” Fallador asks.

Mikail turns and blinks his teal eyes like he’s surprised they’re here.

Gambria frowns as she folds her arms. “He wasn’t listening at all.”

I clench my jaw. They should give him a fucking break. He’s doing okay for a guy who found out his whole past was a sham and whose lover was killed in front of him.

I’m about to say something, but Mikail smiles as if nothing’s wrong. “I was paying attention, but for argument’s sake, why don’t you repeat what you said?”

Gambria huffs. What she lacks in height, she’s got in attitude. But Fallador’s nice enough. He just nods.

“Your birth parents were the Miats, the royal family of Gaya,” he says, starting again. “You and I were switched as infants, in keeping with a long tradition.”

Mikail strolls over and sits on the sofa across from Fallador. They both have warm brown skin and light eyes—Fallador’s are green, not teal, but that’s easy enough to overlook in babies. I guess they could’ve been swapped, but why?

I got a lot of questions, but I try to stay quiet, since I’m not really a part of this. I’m only here because I was pacing in the hall. Mikail opened his door and said I’d wake the entire place with my feet, so he invited me in.

“What tradition is that?” Mikail asks. He relaxes against the cushions as Fallador leans forward.

“Two hundred years ago, when Gaya became a colony, the Miats began secretly safekeeping the youngest child. They would switch that prince or princess with a commoner so that if Yusan broke the colonial treaty and attacked again, the Miat bloodline wouldn’t die out.

Really, it was done so there would always be someone to wield the Flaming Sword of Gaya. ”

That’s the thing King Joon stole about twenty years ago.

Mikail picks at a bloodstain on his pant leg. “Why weren’t the children told?”

Fallador frowns. “They were all told the truth when they came of age. However, that couldn’t happen with you.

Not with the Festival of Blood.” He pauses, his eyes wet with tears, but then he shakes his head and refocuses on Mikail.

“We thought you were gone along with the entire royal bloodline. I believed I was all that was left, and so I…had to…”

The ball of his throat bobs. He sniffles and looks away.

Gambria rests a hand on Fallador’s shoulder.

“So we kept up the facade in Khitan. By the time we discovered that you’d survived, you were already a spy for Yusan and everyone believed that Fallador was the exiled prince.

At that point, we thought it safest not to say anything.

If someone wanted to kill the last Gayan royals, they’d come for me and Fallador.

And you were protected as spymaster…despite your best efforts. ”

“That’s pretty shit reasoning,” I blurt out.

She eyes me with pure contempt and continues like I said nothing. “We thought you’d be at greater risk if you knew the truth.”

Mikail looks from her to Fallador and back. “Are you two actually related?”

“No,” Fallador says with a sheepish grin. “Gambria’s parents worked in the palace kitchens. She saved my life, secreting me away in a crate on a cargo ship right before they rounded up my…our family. We whispered that we would be cousins when we landed in Khitan.”

So everything they said was a lie.

I wait for Mikail’s reaction, but he just nods. He’s taking all of this pretty well. Too well, if you ask me. But maybe lies aren’t a big deal when you trade in them.

“Who else knows the truth?” Mikail asks.

“No one,” Fallador says. Mikail raises an eyebrow, but Fallador doesn’t blink. “Everyone who knew died that day. I only told Gambria after you first made contact with me eight years ago. As you can imagine, that was an…intense moment between us.”

She gives him a hard stare, and even if I don’t like her, I get her anger. They’d been through so much together, and he still hadn’t told her the truth. He didn’t trust her enough, love her enough, or care enough to give her honesty. I ball my hands in fists—that’s a betrayal I can relate to.

“Well…your friends also know,” Gambria corrects, her blue eyes darting over toward me. “Speaking of, what exactly is the plan?”

Yeah, what are we gonna do? Aeri has the Golden Ring of Khitan and the Sands of Time, and Mikail’s got the Water Scepter.

That leaves only the Flaming Sword of Gaya and the Immortal Crown, and King Joon has both of them.

Nobody knows where we are…yet, but they’ll search every realm to find us.

We’ve got three relics. We’re hunted now.

“Sora and Aeri are still asleep?” Mikail asks.

“Yeah,” I answer.

Mikail shifts the scepter around, and a worry line forms on his forehead.

A chill hits me in the warm room. I haven’t seen that wrinkle since Euyn offered to bet his life for the Golden Ring.

Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Mikail worried about death or danger for himself, but it’s different with people he loves.

Losing a loved one can send you to a place worse than death. I know that better than most.

He reaches for the metal pitcher on the table and pours another glass of water. I think this is his sixth cup today.

“We have to get to the city of Jeul and dispose of Governor Yong,” Mikail says.

“That is the plan—to free Gaya.” He pauses and glances at me.

I must look as confused as I feel, because he continues.

“Jeul was the capital when Gaya was a realm, but the colony is still ruled from there. It’s on the northwest side of the island. ”

Fallador tilts his head, and Gambria arches an eyebrow.

“What about the Yusanian garrisons?” Fallador asks. “There are around six thousand soldiers occupying the island, and most are stationed near Jeul.”

My stomach drops at the number, but Mikail spins the scepter as he shrugs. “Once we take the capital, I’ll offer the king’s guard a choice: flee or die.”

What?

“What?” Gambria shouts. “Take the capital with what? Humor and charm? You have no army, no navy. All we have is the skiff we stole from that warship and the clothes on our backs.”

Fallador speaks before Mikail can answer. “Even if we can take Jeul…” He trails off and shoots Gambria a displeased look. “If you let the soldiers go, that will just be more men opposing us.”

Mikail stops the scepter from spinning with one finger. “Are you proposing I kill them all?”

Fallador’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “What? No. But we’ll need our own soldiers—a great deal of them.”

“We will rally the people of Gaya,” Mikail says. “But I doubt we’ll need as many as you think with three relics in our possession.”

Gambria and Fallador look at each other as I try to figure out how Mikail thinks this’ll work. Yeah, we’ve got the relics, but six thousand soldiers is a shitload of men when there’s six of us. And we don’t know what using two relics will do to Aeri. These relics don’t give without taking.

Oh good. I’m worried about her again. I kick at the empty chair near me. Way to learn my lesson.

Gambria and Fallador keep eyeing each other, but no one says anything. The silence continues until it grates on my skin.

“Speak.” Mikail hits the arm of the sofa. It’s weird for a guy who doesn’t have much of a temper. He’s really not himself, but I guess that’s tough to be when you don’t know who you are.

“Adoros, this island has been under Yusanian rule for two centuries,” Gambria says slowly.

“And it has been fully absorbed for nearly twenty years. I told you that it’s not the homeland we remember—that place is gone.

Two decades is long enough for a generation to forget, to be loyal to Yusan, not Gaya. ”

“That’s impossible,” Mikail says, anger moving his features. “I’ve been in touch with spies. There is always rebel activity on the island.”

She frowns. “A generation has been taught that Yusan liberated them, and you want to say it’s not possible.”

“A yoke is not liberation—even animals know the difference,” he says. “A generation is alive who remembers the Festival of Blood.”

I feel like I’m watching a tuhko match, my head going from side to side as they argue. I don’t know who’s right, so I keep waiting for the next point.

“Not everyone joined in the Gayan rebellion,” she says. “You know this. The people who knew the truth are dead or they were on the winning side. Cowardice has a way of erasing bravery.”

He waves a hand. “The people remember.”

“Because you’ve spoken to so many of them?” Gambria’s cheeks color as she raises her voice. “Just because you don’t want to believe the truth doesn’t make it false!”

I move closer to Mikail. I’m not his guard, but he doesn’t need this woman yelling at him. And I’m happy to throw her out for free.

Gambria exhales and then stands. “I’m going to get some air.”

Without waiting for a reply, she leaves the room. There’s not a sound until the door clicks closed.

Good riddance.

Mikail stares off again, his eyes vacant.

He looks like he’s caught between worlds, sleepwalking while awake.

I remember that feeling. After my girlfriend was killed nine years ago, it was like the Road of Souls was calling me but I was stuck here.

It’s why I was okay with death. Being the one left behind feels like a curse, not a blessing. And now, Mikail looks the same.

I shudder. If he goes looking for death, he’ll find it. And then what happens to the rest of us?

“She does love you,” Fallador says.

Mikail blinks, really trying to be present. He grins, faking being casual. “She has an odd way of demonstrating it.”

Fallador shrugs. “Love is like water. It can take many different shapes, go through many different stages and forms, and yet it remains the same.”

Is that true? I swallow hard and think about Aeri, still asleep in the other room.

Are we just in another stage? No, the ache in my chest says otherwise.

There can’t be love without trust. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, and I can’t trust her for shit.

It’s a form of something, because I still want to make sure she’s okay—even now—but it’s not love.

“Are you sure you’re…all right?” Fallador asks Mikail.

He reaches forward, placing a hand on his arm. Their eyes meet, and I pick the absolute worst time to clear my throat. They both stare at me. Without Gambria here, I’m the odd man out.

“I should… I should go patrol,” I say.

If there was a subtle way to leave, I couldn’t find it.

Mikail pulls away from Fallador and nods. “That’s a good idea.”

I’m nearly out of the room when I notice Fallador shake off a disappointed frown. He’s hiding what he feels. Can we trust him?

Can we trust anybody now?