Descendant of the Crane(87)

“You really should rest, milady.”

“Just one story.”

She waited for him to come back and sit with her on the bed, but he stayed by the doors, the distance between them feeling as large as it had that winter day when she’d run across the ice to save him.

“A boy by the name of Yidou had lost his way in the Ebei Mountains,” Caiyan began. “Out of food and facing the first snows, he had been resigned to death.

“That’s when the wolf had appeared. Yidou had a knife. He had his two feet. He could have fought. He could have fled. But he knew he was weak, so instead, he turned the knife on himself and cut off a finger. He fed it to the wolf. He cut off another, laying a trail of his own flesh, feeding the wolf’s very desire while luring the beast farther and farther down the icy pass.”

“And then?” she asked, breath held, voice hushed.

“He survived,” Caiyan said simply. “He gave the wolf a piece of what it wanted without sacrificing all of himself. Tomorrow you will do the same. It may hurt, but it’s the only way.” Then his voice softened. “Lilian and I will be there on the terraces with you.”

“Is that my name I hear?”

The story’s spell broke as Lilian came through the doors, ruqun silks spilling out of her arms. “A little bird told me that you have an important tour tomorrow. I’m here to make you presentable. What?” she asked as Hesina frowned at the flashy selection. “A queen should decree things in style.”

“Pretty sure you said the same thing about the negotiations.” That had ended well.

“Pretty sure my gown saved your life.” Lilian turned on Caiyan. “Shoo now. You have ink on your nose, by the way. Not that it really ruins the I-will-forever-be-a-bachelor look.”

Caiyan bowed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, milady.”

“Make sure you see the—”

The doors slid shut behind him.

—Doctress.

Lilian laid out the ruqun on the neighboring bed. “How’s your back?”

“Fine,” Hesina muttered.

“You sound glum about that.”

“He’s upset with me.”

“The stone-head? Since when?”

Since Hesina started getting caught in explosions. “He didn’t take my injury well.” She picked at a loose thread in the silk blankets. She hadn’t placed the bombs in One-Eye’s hands, but they’d gone off because of her. Because of her, Mei was dead and two of Hesina’s brothers were injured.

The bed dimpled as Lilian sat beside her. “And you think I did? We all hide ourselves, Na-Na. You most of all.”

“What do I hide behind?”

“Lies. Duty. The things you think you should do and love, but that you actually hate. You don’t owe the people some better version of yourself. In fact, you owe this world nothing.”

Hesina dragged out the thread, undoing the feather of an embroidered phoenix. Easy for Lilian to say. The kingdom was currently falling apart because no better version of herself had arrived to save the day. “I’m the queen.”

“It’s not too late to run away. I’m being serious, for once. We can go to Ning.”

“And freeze?”

“Their smoldering men make up for the cold,” said Lilian with an eyebrow wiggle. “Besides, I hear they have sapphires as big as your fists.”

“Xia Zhong would love it.” Hesina had finally handed him the war he wanted. As she sat here, picking dresses, he was probably throwing a feast.

“Okay, forget about Ning.” Lilian tapped her lip. “We could go anywhere, do anything. We could ride serpents in the Baolin Isles, soak in the floating hot springs on the Aoshi archipelago.” She leaned in, chestnut eyes hopeful. “If I asked you to come, would you?”

Yes, Hesina desperately wanted to say. Let this kingdom burn. Let the people kill. I want nothing to do with them. But if she didn’t rule, who would? Sanjing? Although he was next in line, he was no more suited to this fate than she.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

She’d said no to Lilian before. To pranking the imperial tailor, to skipping lessons and countless other things. But this time felt different. The air went too still, too silent, and Lilian’s smile wavered before it brightened again. She gestured at the gowns. “Then shall we?”

Narrowing down the pile of ruqun was easier than it looked. Applying Hesina’s stipulations (no inappropriate embroidery) took them from a dozen options to three.

One ruqun was cut from crimson silk. Golden sun rays fanned from the sleeve cuffs. Light-blue clouds scalloped the hem.

“Too conservative,” declared Lilian when she caught Hesina eyeing it. She laid out the coordinating sash and bixi brocade panel anyway, found a chiffon wrap, dip-dyed to resemble mist. She suggested a mink-trimmed cloak and a gold hair comb to match.

Hesina lifted the comb. Its shaft was wrought with serpents, their scaled bodies weaving in and out of a cloud bank. Russet jaspers had been set for their eyes, reminding her of Mei’s. The comb grew heavier in her hand. She set it down.

“Lilian.”

“Hmm?”

“While the people are distracted by the tour tomorrow, I want you to visit the caverns. Take some sticks of black powder with you and find the passageway sealed with stones. It goes to the city walls.” It had to, given what Hesina now knew about her father’s identity. “Blast away the stones, and lead Mei’s parents and the others out of the city before I read the decree.” Before it’s too late, in case I fail. “Can you do that for me?”