The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(107)

She made the same joke every day. Lu rolled her eyes. Then Nokhai slunk in behind his sister.

He looked even thinner up close, and his black eyes were sunken, rimmed, but alert as ever, roving around the room, as though seeking out missed dangers.

She wanted to run to him, she wanted to hold him, she wanted—but it didn’t matter what she wanted anymore. She’d already made her choice, even if it had felt like she didn’t have one.

“You look well,” she told him.

Nokhai’s mouth jerked up at the corner. “Do I?”

“He’s hard to kill.” Nasan took the room in a few bold strides and snagged a golden-skinned fruit from the table. “Runs in the family,” she added, flinging herself onto a pile of carpets by the fire and taking wet, noisy bites of fruit.

Nokhai followed her, sitting on an overstuffed cushion. Not wanting to be left out, Lu toed off her slippers and joined them, her bare feet clammy against the radiantly heated stone floors.

“So,” Nasan said as Lu sat. “I think that Prince Jin likes you.”

Lu flinched, hazarding a glance at Nok, but he was studying the carpet.

“You should have seen the way he looked at her when we first came upon you two on the beach,” Nasan told her brother. Lu flushed, wishing more than ever that she would shut up. “It was like he’d never seen a girl before.”

As Nasan spoke, she walked back and forth between the table and where they sat, ferrying trays of food and drink with her. Once, she laid a plate of savory pastries upon Nokhai’s lap, but he only stared at it.

It worried Lu—he ought to eat as much as he could, in his state—but she thought she understood how he felt. The aromatic foods stirred nothing in her, either. There was too much happening to focus on something as mundane as eating. She turned her palms toward the flames. The heat felt nice, at least. Nokhai didn’t move, but his eyes flicked up, tracking her movements.

“So, you’ve got what you wanted now, don’t you?” Nasan said. “Yunis in your pocket, an army at your back.”

“And a prince at your side.”

Lu’s head jerked up at Nokhai’s words. The silence that hung between them was metallic, ringing.

“Well, let’s have a toast to the future Emperor Lu,” Nasan said, stooping to fetch one of the decanters by her feet. She took a messy swig before thrusting it into Nok’s hands. He considered the amber-colored liquid before taking a cautious sip.

His face crumpled. “Oh gods. That tastes awful.”

Nasan just laughed and plucked the bottle from his hands. “You’d never guess, but these Yunians know how to make a hard brew.”

“To Emperor Lu!” she proclaimed, taking another brazen swallow. She handed the bottle to Lu with an exaggerated bow.

Lu raised it, essaying a wry smile. “And to both of you.” Then she drank.

Fire tore through her throat, pricking tears into the corners of her eyes. “Oh . . . my,” she choked out. They laughed.

“So,” Nasan said, reclaiming the decanter. “When does our army leave?”

Lu arched an eyebrow. “Our army?”

“Yes, our army. Our armies, if you prefer.”

Lu let it go. They had a good deal of negotiating and planning to do between them; the last thing they needed was to quibble over language. “The Triarch and I still need to sort out the details—”

“And when are we going to do that?” Nasan interrupted, thrusting the decanter back into her hands.

Lu took a perfunctory sip. It’s just language, she reminded herself, but she could not stop from repeating, “We?”

“Yes.” Nasan swiped the decanter back again and drained the last of it. “We. I’m not getting edged out just because you found yourself a bigger, shinier army to help you. Our deal still stands.”

“Of course it does,” Lu said with forced calm. “I keep my word.”

“That’s good to hear, Princess. That’s very good to hear. Because your people don’t exactly have a reputation for it.”

Before Lu could formulate a response, Nasan stood, fetching a stack of brass-plated cups into which she poured sloppy, generous slugs of garnet-colored wine.

The room felt overly hot, stifling. An effect of the alcohol. Agitated, Lu stood and unclasped her fur mantle, letting it fall. Then she shrugged off the floor-sweeping outer layer of her scarlet robes, leaving only loose-fitted trousers and a sleeveless tunic that belted tightly at the waist.

As she sat again, she caught Nokhai’s gaze skittering down her bare arms, before his eyes disappeared beneath the dark fringe of his lashes. Nasan watched him watching her; she raised an eyebrow, but for once made no comment.

“Are you sure you’re up for all this, Princess?” she asked Lu, shoving a cup of wine into her hands. “You’re putting a lot of lives on the line for a pretty crown and a fancy title.”

Annoyance flared in Lu’s chest. “Of course I’m ready. I was born for this. Duty demands it of me—it’s not just about a title. My cause is just. I will save lives that Set would just as soon—”

Nasan snorted. “Your cause? Please. And when has your empire ever done justice to anyone? Everything it—everything you— stand for is counter to it.”

Lu took a calming breath. “I am trying to rectify our past crimes. I will return your lands, and make certain nothing like what happened to you ever happens again.”