Descendant of the Crane(24)

Rou didn’t appear appeased.

“Enough,” said the director. “Representatives, you now have twenty-four hours before the trial begins. You may meet with your parties to prepare your prosecution and defense. Session adjourned.”

But no one stood, because Hesina hadn’t stood. Standing was a form of leading. How could she lead if she didn’t understand what was going on anymore?

“Up you go,” grunted Lilian under her breath, helping Hesina to her feet by the elbow. The rest of the court rose, the shuffle sounding like a collective sigh, and something in Hesina’s throat unclogged. She sucked down what felt like her first real breath, then gripped Lilian by the arm.

“Meet me in Father’s study. Tell my page to lead Akira to the same place. Go, now.”

Lilian pursed her lips. “Can you walk?”

“I’ll manage.” One way or another, she would make it out of this nightmare of a court.

She took the steps slowly after Lilian left and was one of the last to exit the court through the Hall of Everlasting Harmony. As fate would have it, she didn’t get very far before the person she dreaded most called for her.

“Sister!”

At first, Hesina pretended not to hear. But then Rou called again, and her conscience wouldn’t allow her to ignore him a second time. She stopped between the last pair of pillars, built of sturdy huanghuali and covered in a mother-of-pearl overlay of cranes, phoenixes, and herons in flight. She let Rou catch up.

And she regretted it when he did, because he immediately dropped to the ground and prostrated himself in koutou.

“My mother’s innocent,” he blubbered. “I swear on the Eleven.”

He couldn’t have picked a worse time. There were still courtiers behind them, watching curiously. Quickly, Hesina hauled Rou to his feet.

“Stop this,” she hissed so the others wouldn’t hear. “The situation is bad enough as is. You’re never going to clear your mother’s name if people catch you groveling.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Rou’s pupils were huge with fear, but also with hope. Hesina saw her face reflected in them. “But…does that mean you believe me?”

She took him in, this half brother of hers with ears that protruded and a sparse fall of black bangs over a pearlescent forehead. She probably saw him four or five times a year—fewer, if she could help it—and each time he was the same. Genuine. Earnest. Kind.

He made it that much harder to resent him.

“I’ll believe whatever the court finds,” she said, loudly this time, announcing it to everyone within earshot. Then she turned on her heel, cursing and walking faster when the footsteps continued to trail her.

“Are you trying to outrun me too?”

“Oh.” Hesina exhaled as Caiyan came down the hall, regal in his black-and-gold viscount hanfu. “It’s you.”

He fell into step beside her. “Are you okay, milady?”

She nodded stiffly.

“I understand you have some history with the consort,” Caiyan said as they wove through the maze of facades. “But don’t let it get to you.”

Easier said than done. Maybe if Hesina hadn’t overturned the archives for information on the consort or crouched in the Southern Palace shrubbery for a glimpse of the woman who’d divided her father’s heart, these childhood memories wouldn’t bead like sweat on her mind.

Inside the king’s study, Akira sat on the far window ledge overlooking the gardens. Lilian lounged on her favorite daybed, a green hair ribbon knit between her hands. “Consort Fei, huh? Well, what do we all think?”

Caiyan took up pacing. “The suspect had to have come from inside the palace.”

“But seriously, Consort Fei? That’s like saying you’d murder the king. How would she, even?”

“Poison, clearly.”

“You’re missing my point, stone-head.”

“I see your point.” Caiyan reached one end of the room and turned back around. “And I have my doubts. But we should treat her as we would any suspect.”

Treat her as we would any suspect.

Hesina stood by the wall of books in the lower study, where the shelves would split down the middle if she removed a certain pattern of tomes. A secret passageway to the orchard, her father had said with a wink. It explained the never-ending supply of fresh persimmons on his desk. So many seemingly mysterious things about her father could be explained in simple ways. But why had he broken his vows to the dowager queen for Consort Fei? Hesina would never know.

She knew other things, though, thanks to all the research she’d done on the consort. At Caiyan’s words, and the realization that she could never treat Consort Fei as a normal suspect, something floated belly up to the surface of Hesina’s thoughts.

“What is it, Na-Na?” cried Lilian as Hesina gripped the edge of a shelf for balance.

“Consort Fei. Her grandfather was an advisor to the previous Kendi’an Crown Prince.”

“What are you saying?”

She was saying that Sanjing was right. He’d been right all along, and now, with a mouth too dry for words, she was glad he wasn’t here to see this.

“Milady is trying to say the consort is a scapegoat.” As usual, Caiyan helped Hesina when she could not help herself. He turned from Lilian and to Hesina. “You don’t believe she killed the king.”