The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(104)

“I lived, Nok,” she told him. “It’s time you did, too.”





CHAPTER 32


The Key

There was no sign of Lu along the gray lake. The water was placid, unremarkable. But when Min scuffed the toe of her boot against the shore, slivers of iridescent crystal surfaced amid the flat gray stones. She raised the pendant around her neck for comparison. It caught the pale overcast light, throwing rainbows across her chest, the silk of her skirts. The shards at her feet certainly could be the same material.

She stooped to pick one up, choosing a large piece unlikely to break. “Butterfly,” she called.

“Yes, Pr—Empress.” The nuna was instantly at her side, her pretty face nervous. Set had told Min she could select one nuna to join them on the ride north, and Butterfly was the clear choice—clever and resourceful.

Truly she seemed the only choice after the incident with the windows—after the change, as Min had come to think of it. The other nunas had scarcely been able to meet her eyes afterward; Snowdrop quailed when they were even in the same room, as though Min might strike her.

Stupid girl.

Aloud, she told Butterfly, “Put this crystal in my saddlebag.”

“Yes, Empress.” Butterfly took the crystal and all but fled. Even bold, witty Butterfly was afraid of her now.

That might have upset Min once. Before. Or would it have? In a way, fear was preferable to the other girl’s usual patronizing affection—as though she thought Min couldn’t see through it.

Min’s mother had taken to bed in shock and grief for days after the change. She’d been unable to rise even when Amma Ruxin came to alert her of Min’s departure north. That seemed a bit much, but it was just as well. Min wasn’t quite ready to face her; not yet.

She will understand when I return. She’ll see. Set will be pleased and no longer so quick to anger. And then I will give him sons, and we’ll raise them to be just and honorable heirs. And Lu . . .

She faltered, casting a glance down the shore. Set was there, dismounting his horse to speak with Brother. Her cousin—her husband. She watched him warily, trying to gauge his mood.

The day before, a frantic messenger had told them imperial scouts had spotted Princess Lu in the hills around the lake—and lost her. Set had thrown a lit oil lamp at the man in fury. It missed, but it set a featherbed on fire where it landed. It had taken three servants to stomp out the flames.

Afterward, Brother’s eyes had widened hearing the soldiers’ account of how the princess had been cornered at the edge of the lake along with an utterly massive wolf, only to disappear in a strange, sudden fog. Their own party—Set, Brother, Min, and an additional two hundred troops—had ridden through the night to reach the lake.

They were all tired, but the journey seemed to be wearing on Set especially. He was calm now at least. But his anger could rise quickly, she knew. She remembered how he’d grabbed her, given her to Brother to slash with a knife like a pig—no. She didn’t want to think about that. She wouldn’t.

The wind changed direction and motes of Set and Brother’s conversation floated down the shore toward her.

“. . . Perhaps they allowed her in? Is that even possible?” Set was asking, accepting a rolled cigarette from one of his men. He lit it, waving smoke from his face. That was a new thing, Min noted—she’d never seen her cousin smoke in the capital, but now he inhaled cigarettes like a thirsty man downed water.

Brother eyed the cigarette in her cousin’s hands now and pursed his lips, but he merely said, “The Inbetween is a place of mystery, and the mountains hold great power. Old power. Those who were born of it may exercise some control over its boundaries. In my research—”

“If there’s a chance . . . if there was any way, I guarantee you she made it in. We need to find her,” Set said testily.

“You have the sister,” reassured the monk. “Your claim is safe. Lu is a fugitive. She’s finished.”

“You don’t know her!” Set snapped, tapping ash from his cigarette. “As long as there’s breath in her body, she’ll come for me. She’s obsessed.”

“Your exhaustion is making you paranoid,” Brother chided. “And I don’t like all this smoking, Set. You must keep your energy focused on the goals ahead. If this expedition comes to naught, so be it. We can return to the capital, you can build up coalition support there. And I can continue to train Min. Learn to cultivate and harness her powers.”

Set exhaled a flume of smoke. “What she did with the windows . . . she has power, that much is clear. But do you really think she’ll be able to learn to control something like that?” The uncertainty on his face was so muddled it took Min a moment to see it for what it was: fear. Revulsion. It felt like a slap, followed by an odd gnawing emptiness in her belly.

“Patience. I told you, the girl must have time and instruction. She is your greatest asset whether you can see it or—”

“Yes, yes,” her cousin said dismissively. “Do what you need with her. I’m going to send my men to search the perimeter of the lake for Lu.” He stamped his cigarette out beneath one dust-hoary boot, then stared down at the crushed husk of paper and char. The harsh light of the steppe threw into relief his sallow skin, the violet-gray exhaustion pooling beneath his eyes.