Descendant of the Crane(93)
She clenched the scroll shut. She wouldn’t read it. She wouldn’t divide this kingdom any further. She wouldn’t be like her father and give up her ideals.
“When the Eleven created this new era,” she began, “they simplified the language so everyone could learn. The ability to think for oneself is the kind of power neither blood nor status can confer.
“To learn, we must understand the facts. I won’t hide them from you. Twelve days ago, the palace dungeons were breached—”
“By sooths!”
“—by unidentified persons,” she continued over the shout. “One of the elite guard was injured; three were lost, their bodies unrecoverable. Their names shall go down in the Imperial Histories, and their families will be honored.
“We also failed to recover the bodies of the convicted and the perpetrators. I know this is a frightening time.” She raised her voice to be heard. “An unprecedented time. But in the absence of information, we mustn’t draw dangerous conclusions.”
“So who killed the king?”
Who killed the king?
Who killed the king?
Who killed the king?
I don’t know: the truth. Xia Zhong: a lie. Mei: a lie the people would take as truth.
“Was it the convicted?” they cried when Hesina stood silent, paralyzed by the choice facing her. “Was it the sooths?”
“It was the sooths!”
“The sooths! The sooths!”
Truth or lie.
Before Hesina could decide, the cold edge of a knife sliced her throat.
TWENTY-SIX
WHAT YOU VALUE MANIFESTS IN THE WAY YOU TREAT YOUR BLOOD.
ONE OF THE ELEVEN ON FAMILY
WHAT CAN I SAY? I ABANDONED MY FAMILY TO PROTECT THEM.
TWO OF THE ELEVEN ON FAMILY
The hand on Hesina’s shoulder held her still, even though she couldn’t move. The other edged the knife closer. Warmth trickled down her neck.
“It was I.” A gale buffeted them, tossing strands of black walnut-colored hair against Hesina’s cheek and wrapping her in the scent of osmanthus and peach blossom. She knew it as well as her own. The winds strengthened but failed to steal away Lilian’s voice. “It was I who killed the king!”
The ground dissolved. Faces merged, shades of skin becoming one. Commoners, guards…everything was gone, eroded by Hesina’s horror. “Lies,” she whispered.
Lilian replied in a shout that tore right through the blanket of silence. “I killed him for this kingdom!”
“Qui—”
The knife cut deeper. The trickle quickened, slipping past her sternum. Her thoughts ran with the blood. Lilian couldn’t really mean it. This was a script. An act. It had to be. Her sister couldn’t have “killed” their father. She—
“I, too, thought the king was benevolent and righteous. I thought of him as a father. But his benevolence hid his ineffectiveness. His righteousness was an excuse for his past crimes.”
The world bled back in: the hundreds crowded on the pavilion below, the guards on the stairs, their halberds and gazes pointed at the knife at Hesina’s throat.
“This kingdom is my home.” Lilian’s voice pealed above the wind. “I wanted better for it, so I ended him.”
Hesina’s mind thawed. Whatever Lilian’s motives, she had to silence her, stop her from condemning herself any further.
“I placed my hopes in this queen,” said Lilian.
Elbow to the ribs, hand to the wrist. Seize the knife. Everyone is watching; you have one chance.
“Again, a mistake—”
A shudder rocked through Lilian before Hesina could act. Her sister’s gasp warmed her cheek.
The knife fell.
Lilian fell next. Hesina barely caught her, staggering to the ground under her sister’s weight. Her perfect features crumpled in pain, and Hesina’s heart spasmed. “Speak to me, Lilian, Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Na-Na.” Lilian grimaced, her teeth inked in red. Hesina’s mind iced back over. No. No, no, no. She frantically searched for the source of the injury. Her hand knocked into an oblong object in Lilian’s back. Her trembling fingers curled around a handle, a hilt—a dagger planted beside the left shoulder blade.
The snow’s descent slowed.
This…wasn’t happening. Not for real. This was just pretend. Any moment now, Lilian was going to leap up and cry Surprise! I got you!
But the terrible, sticky wheeze of her sister’s breath went on and on. A shadow waxed over them, and Hesina’s gaze lifted, climbing the length of a black-and-gold hanfu, stilling on a pair of hands.
Caiyan’s hands, right hand clasped over left, knuckles flecked with blood. He was the only one who’d been standing behind them, the only who could have…who could have…
Who could have…
“Na-Na.” The rasp of her name rescued Hesina from the torrent of the truth. “All the ministers—” wheezed Lilian.
“S-shhh. We’ll get you to the Imperial Doc—”
“—are stone-heads. They couldn’t even think of this solution…”
Solution. The word threshed the breath from Hesina’s lungs. Solution? What sort of solution was this? What could this possibly accomplish? “H-hush.”