Descendant of the Crane(70)

The sight shunted Hesina’s spirit back into her; she grabbed her brother’s saber by its base. The blade was dulled there, but still sharp. Warmth welled in her palm. “Step aside, Jing.”

The pain in her hand couldn’t compare to the pain of betrayal in her brother’s eyes. For a split second, it didn’t look like he’d spare her either. Then his face crumpled. “You’re always protecting the wrong people.”

His liuyedao fell to the ground.

The court breathed a collective sigh of relief—until Hesina picked the saber back up. The director scrambled away, but she swept right by him and strode to the guards.

“Stand aside.”

“It’s dangerous, dianxia.”

“As is this,” she said, pointing the blade, still red with her blood.

Slowly, the guards parted like reeds, revealing Mei.

The swordswoman clutched at her arm, her eyes fixed on the dagger, lying where it’d fallen, the blood on its blade already dry. Her gaze flickered to Hesina’s. The russet of her eyes was fierce yet frightened, unapologetic yet guilty.

“Protect them,” Mei whispered, right before the blade burst into blue fire.





TWENTY-ONE





THEY WERE IN A POSITION OF POWER. THEY COULD HAVE SERVED THE PEOPLE. INSTEAD, THEY SERVED THE EMPEROR.

ONE OF THE ELEVEN ON SOOTHSAYERS


I’M WILLING TO GIVE THEM A SECOND CHANCE IF THEY JOIN US.

TWO OF THE ELEVEN ON SOOTHSAYERS

The court plunged into pandemonium. Nobles fled from the upper half, commoners from the bottom. Those sitting closest to the suspended aisle made leaps for it. Crowds ran, pushed, hobbled for the great doors only to collide with the director’s reinforcements.

In the thick of it, the guards grabbed Hesina by the arms. She dug in her heels, screaming and biting as they pulled her away from Mei. Mistaking her ire for fear, the guards tried to reassure her: the sooth was in chains and would be executed by the coming dawn. Their words only incensed Hesina, and by the time they’d made it into the Hall of Everlasting Harmony, she’d punched one guard and clawed another. They were all too happy to pass her on to the maids.

The maids, too, tried to placate Hesina, but their eyes showed fear. Was her carefully pinned chignon coming apart, her powdered mask streaking? Had they finally seen the truth of her, and was it too ugly to behold?

So be it if it is.

Hesina flung off their hands and ran back toward the court, stopping when she physically couldn’t break through the human river. Fleeing people streamed past her. She was their queen, but in this moment, she was nothing more than a pebble in their current, destined to be eroded by forces larger and older than herself.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She lurched to the throne hall, down the enamel walk and through the faux gateways, up the dais and into the cold throne with the soapstone reredos at her back. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end.

The caisson ceiling overhead had been commissioned by emperors regarded as gods. Hesina was far from one. The throne hall was a temple. She was unworthy of worship. When she closed her eyes to it, she saw Mei’s face. Heard her voice. Remembered all the times they’d spoken.

Realized all the things she had missed.

You’re a sympathizer.

I’m not the only one.

How had she not put the pieces together?

Worse—why hadn’t Sanjing told her?

She found her brother in his rooms, bent over his desk, the drawers pulled out and sifted through. He turned when she passed through the open doors, his lips parting, but she grabbed him by the collar before he could speak.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Push me off, she willed him. Shout at me.

But all he did was stare, eyes empty and dull.

“What would it have changed?” he croaked. “What would it have changed?” he repeated, as if he actually wanted an answer. “We could have had the strongest case, the weakest case, and it’d all be the same. She was guilty. In their eyes, she was guilty from the moment of her birth.”

Hesina couldn’t accept this. She wouldn’t accept this, truth be damned. “You could have said something to Akira.”

“I didn’t know if you trusted him.”

“I said I did!”

“You hesitated.”

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t know if I trusted you.”

Hesina released Sanjing. Staggered back. Her blood had roared thick and furious only seconds ago, but just like that, his words drained her dry. “I never said I hated the soothsayers.”

“You never said you didn’t.”

“I—” I used one. I wept over her death. It still haunts me to this day. The words caught in her chest, so used to being suppressed.

A snick came from behind. Slowly, Hesina turned.

Everyone was here. Lilian. Caiyan. Akira. Even Rou. They stood in the doorway, watching her come apart, their thoughts loud in the silence, crashing over her.

“Na-Na?” Lilian was the first to close the distance. She wrapped her arms around Hesina.

Hesina broke free. She wanted to storm the dungeons. Rescue Mei. She needed to, or she’d never free her conscience.

But Mei hadn’t asked to be saved.