Descendant of the Crane(30)

“The Tenets?” Xia Zhong’s voice dripped with scorn, as if there wasn’t a pile of every edition stacked before his nose. The Ministry of Rites existed because of the books. Hesina didn’t agree with everything in the Tenets, especially when it came to the sooths, but she didn’t agree with Xia Zhong either when he said, “The Tenets are but paper.”

It was the end of an era. Hesina would never be able to laugh at one of Lilian’s impersonations of the minister again.

“What use do you have for that kind of money?” she demanded. It made no sense, and she was tired of things not making sense. Ministers earned decent salaries. Xia Zhong had the means to fix his roof or buy a new set of robes without resorting to such measures.

“This is not an interrogation, dianxia,” the minister said amicably. “I’m offering you a partnership, a deal. A war for a trial. Take it or leave it.”

No. She should have said no. But the word wouldn’t come. The silence stretched, and a bead of sweat carved a path between Hesina’s shoulder blades.

Draw the line. But where was the line? She’d committed treason for this trial. She was blackmailing Xia Zhong for this trial. She kept drawing the line only to cross it. The idea of sacrifice didn’t scare her. She was willing to bend.

But then she’d become the sort of person her father didn’t respect.

The sweat on her back went cold. She rose and looked down on the minister’s bald head, waiting for him to meet her eye. “I won’t have the people believing a lie that will cost unnecessary lives. And neither will you. Remember this before you frame another person.”

She made sure to leave the letter on the desk. The act spoke for itself. She had more. She could spare this one.

Without a word, Xia Zhong fed it to the candle flame.



“I could shove this up his ass,” growled Lilian, screwing the end of her poled net into the pebbled banks of the silk ponds. Surrounded by willows that wept into the silk-swathed waters, they were in the quietest section of the imperial gardens. “Or boil him in a vat of dye. The girls and I were thinking of roses and grays for the winter season. How do you think the monk would look in mauve?”

Caiyan sighed, and Lilian snapped, “What? What do you have up your ass?”

Without answering, Caiyan turned to Hesina. “Do you have the letters somewhere safe?”

“Yes.” She’d placed them under the floorboards of her study, the only place her meticulous maids didn’t clean.

“Good. Don’t use them.”

“She should use them,” snarled Lilian as she flung her net out into the pond. Yan silkworms cast their cocoons on lily pads instead of mulberry trees, making the collection process as easy as skimming raw silk from the water. But today Lilian looked like she was trying to harpoon a tiger shark.

“Xia Zhong is more than we ever took him for,” said Caiyan.

“He is the lesser being of all lesser beings,” Lilian shot back. She jerked the net out, clumps of silk caught like white hair, droplets flying into Hesina’s face. “He’s the descendant of a slug.”

Caiyan raised a fist to his mouth and started pacing on the banks. “You don’t know how he might retaliate if you push him too far.”

“Which is why,” gritted out Lilian, detangling the silk and tossing it into her collection basket, “we should retaliate first.”

“Milady, you must proceed with caution.”

“To hell with caution! Na-Na—”

“Stop!” The twins froze as Hesina clutched at her pounding head. “Just…stop.”

Seconds passed, during which an unspoken conversation took place between Caiyan and Lilian. A decision was reached, and Caiyan bowed. “I’ll see you at dinner, milady.”

As her twin left, Lilian crouched, plucked a stray silkworm from the ground, and helped it back into the water. “Sorry, Na-Na.”

“It’s fine.” Hesina just wanted an answer to her problems, and neither Caiyan’s nor Lilian’s suggestions felt like one. She crouched by Lilian. “I doubt Xia Zhong will listen to me. He’ll just work closer with the Investigation Bureau. It’ll get harder to acquit the suspects from here on out.”

“Don’t be so certain,” said Lilian. “Akira seems very capable.”

What about me? What am I supposed to do?

But Hesina was being silly. She wasn’t a princess anymore. Power wasn’t wielding the knife on her own but having someone else wield it on her behalf.

With a groan, Lilian stood. “Any word from the Kendi’an court?”

Power, apparently, was also ignoring letters from queens. “No,” Hesina muttered, rising with her sister.

“You should bring a party of your strongest warriors to them and make them reply at sword point.”

“I wonder why I haven’t thought of this before.”

“Because you have that stone-head as your advisor, not me. If I were your courtier, we’d make all the kingdoms cower in fear.”

“You hate court.”

Lilian raised a finger. “But I like muscular warriors and threatening people.”

Hesina snorted. Lilian giggled. Snorts turned into giggles, and giggles into snorts. Hesina’s cheeks ached, as if the muscles required for mirth had atrophied. Right when she thought she might have pulled something, the pebbles behind them clattered and she was forced to school her features into a semblance of regality before facing the visitor.