Page 24

MIKAIL

CITY OF RAHWAY, YUSAN

R une thinks he fathered Seok’s son. Truly, the nobility of Yusan has too much time on their hands.

There’s a silver blur at the corner of my eye, and Gambria’s dagger stops right at my throat. She’s breathing hard, a hair away from slicing open my neck. I stare down at her and smile. She got the drop on me.

“The lack of effort is offensive, Mikail,” she says in Gayan.

She tosses the dagger to the side of the sparring ring. I asked her to accompany me to the armory after we finished breakfast because we have something to discuss. We were supposed to be fighting with only bamboo poles, but she had the dagger stashed somewhere in her training rough spun.

“You have to be prepared for anything,” she adds.

I usually am, but the complicated parentage and deceit at the top of Yusan has taken me by surprise. Joon or Omin fathered Euyn. Quilimar wasn’t Baejkin. And now Tiyung’s bloodline is in question. I’d simply forgotten we were sparring. Plus, last night still weighs on my mind.

“Is that any way to address your sovereign?” I ask.

Gambria inhales and rolls her eyes.

Shifting my pole, I hit her three times before she can react. I get her right knee, left shoulder, and then push her by her stomach until she falls out of the ring.

She lands in the white sandpit three feet down. I’ve won.

I extend my hand to help her up, but Gambria waves it off. She colors red and springs to her feet, wiping the sand from her brown tunic.

I leave the ring in search of water. The scepter leans by a table where there’s a pitcher and towels.

With large gulps, I down a glass, still trying to replenish my body with salts and water so that this pain will go away.

I think it’s less severe than yesterday, but scale is a tricky thing.

It’s hard to tell if a temple or stadium weighs more when it’s crushing you.

As I finish the water, I study the inner courtyard of the armory.

The armory takes up the entire west wing of Rune’s villa.

This open-air training section provides natural light and air.

The space is impressive. Not only do they have a wide variety of weapons, but the raised black sparring rings, sandpits, and woven mats are the best I’ve seen.

It makes sense. Rune is the most warlike of the counts—well, when there were four. We seem to be down to one.

But I didn’t ask her here to spar. Not really.

“I have a question for you,” I say as Gambria joins me by the table.

“Why didn’t I challenge you in archery?” she mutters. “That’s my question.”

I smile. “We’d have to go to the other hall for that.”

We stand quietly. I use silence as a tool, spinning my wooden pole. She’s too curious not to take the bait. Nearly everyone reacts the same—it’s human nature.

“What is it?”

I turn and face her. “Do you want to go back to Khitan?”

Her eyes drift as her brow furrows. She’s trying to figure out where I’m going with this rather than just answering honestly. Disappointment floods me, but it’s not a new feeling. I’ve been keeping it at bay since last night.

“It’s a simple question,” I say. “Your wife and lover are there. I suspect that’s where you’d rather be. So why do you stay?”

“I don’t have a lover other than Lyria,” she says. “I assume you mean Quilimar, but that’s long in the past.”

“Feel free to respond at any time about Khitan.”

The bamboo sparring pole is far lighter than the Water Scepter. When I first used the scepter to get us out of Quu Harbor, I’d worried about dropping it into the East Sea, but the etherum causes it to cling to my palm when I’m wielding it.

At least the scepter is loyal.

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Gambria says.

She has always been sharp, cleverer than Fallador. But her slyness is working against her. She’s being dishonest, and by trying to evade me, she’s only making it more obvious.

She grabs her pole again and enters the ring.

Fair enough.

I saunter in, using the raised bridge, and I bow to her. She does the same. Then I drop into a ready stance.

Gambria attacks immediately, now fueled by ego and anger. She’s faster than I remembered, and despite being shirtless, I actually break a sweat keeping up with her. But a flame this bright dies quickly.

“You don’t care about Gaya,” I say, parrying her blows. “Or really Yusan, for that matter. Not enough to risk your life.”

She doesn’t deny it.

“So my question remains: What is stopping you from returning to Khitan?”

She’s panting as she strikes again. She swings at my head, and I duck with a sigh. I’m tired of taking it easy on her. She’s left her side exposed this entire time instead of alternating strikes.

I twirl the pole and punch at her ribs, knocking the air out of her.

Gambria stumbles back a few steps, her eyes wide as she clutches her side.

“One could think you have to be here,” I say. “Because otherwise, who would relay information to the crown?”

She colors red. “You are the spymaster, Mikail. You think I’d spy for that bloodletter? I would never stoop that low.”

Real hate flashes in her eyes, and it explains so much.

She doesn’t feel the way Fallador does about my position as spymaster—she views it as a betrayal of what we held dear.

And when it comes to Gaya, I suppose it has been.

I’ve ordered the assassinations of rebel leaders on the island.

It doesn’t matter that I also sent them forewarning. I did it, and some still died.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” I say.

She pauses and knits her eyebrows. I hook my pole behind her knee and upend her again. She lands on her back on the black floor of the ring, struggling to inhale. Casually, I drop the pole on her thighs and step on it so she can’t kick up at me. I’m not sparing her any pain. Not this time.

“I said crown , not Yusan.” I reach into my pocket and take the card out of my rough spun pants.

“You know, it’s a funny thing about messenger houses.

You can never quite be sure the letters arrive at their intended location.

So many things can happen between sealing the clay and someone opening it. ”

I drop the letter onto Gambria’s chest. It says:

My love,

They have the ring, the sands, and the scepter in Rahway. We seek Count Rune’s assistance to take the throne. Align with the count, and Yusan is yours.

Forever in love

Gambria’s blue eyes fill with terror. She doesn’t have to read the message because she knows every word.

She swallows hard. “Where did you get that?”

“I found it on the assassin who broke in last night.” I shake my head and sigh. “How many eagles do you think are sent from here to the palace in Khitan? It’s so sloppy, Gambria. Did you think Seok wouldn’t have spies watching the messenger houses? You almost got them killed.”

She shakes her head. “I hadn’t meant to. I would never help this realm.”

That part is true. She hadn’t even coded her message, not thinking her letter would be intercepted and used. Of course, betraying our whereabouts and plans to Quilimar was intentional. Love and loyalty go hand in hand with dishonor and betrayal.

I hesitate. I know what must be done, but I also understand what it is like loving a Baejkin. She’s fallen into a trap, and what’s worse is that it’s so pleasant that she doesn’t want a way out.

“I swear on my parents, on Gaya, that I never meant to hurt them!” Gambria says.

She shouldn’t have mentioned Gaya. Ire rises in me at her using our homeland’s name, and I think about killing her right here.

I lean down closer to her. She winces as I press on the pole.

“Because I once loved you, because Fallador continues to, I will give you this chance to flee now with your life. Cross paths with me again, and it will be one time too many.”

“Mikail, I—”

She wants to explain that she was merely trying to help the woman she loves.

But I have no interest in hearing it. She knows that I am the true prince of Gaya.

She has known me since we were children, and she has no loyalty to me.

To the home we survived. I can forgive a lot of betrayal, but not this. The island comes first.

“Go before I’m dressed.” I pull my shirt back on.

She tries a few times to speak, but then she shakes her head. “I wish you peace, Adoros.”

I spit. Peace is for the weak. I swear and I vow that those will be the last words she ever speaks to me.