The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(56)

Nok felt a prickle of heat on the back of his neck. “What about the emperor?”

“Oh!” Adé said softly. “He—he’s dead.” As she spoke, she set her parcel of cake on the table—right beside Lu’s sword. The princess had left it out. They noticed it at the same time. Adé’s eyes widened at the exposed hilt with its imperial insignia: a solid-gold tiger’s head, the roaring mouth filled with harsh carnelian.

“Nok,” she said slowly. “This sword . . .”

Her words fell away into a scream of shock.

He followed her eyes to where Lu stood in the doorway of his bedroom, bow drawn, an arrow pointed straight at Adé’s heart.

“No!” Instinct threw Nok between the two girls. “Put that down!”

Lu’s bow clattered to the floor. “She saw the sword.”

“Have you lost your mind?” he barked at her.

“Is that . . . ?” Adé’s voice was faint behind him.

The princess’s voice was low and hoarse. “Tell me what you just said about my father.”

“Get back in that room and stay!” Nok snapped.

She never took her eyes off Adé. “Tell me what happened to my father.”

Adé looked between Nok and Omair before saying slowly, “I’m so sorry, but your father, the emperor—he’s . . . he’s passed.”

Lu’s eyes were wild but dry. “When?”

Adé shook her head. “Yesterday, I think. They’re coronating your cousin today—”

“He has no claim!” Lu blurted hotly. “He was only ever going to be crowned if he married me—”

“If he married a princess,” Omair corrected softly from behind her.

“Yes, exactly . . .” Her voice dropped off. “Min.” The name fell from her lips, soft and terrible.

Adé hesitated, then nodded. “He’s marrying your sister.”

The princess closed her eyes. Her mouth trembled, and for a moment it looked like she might be sick. Nok almost felt sorry for her in that moment.

“There’s more,” Adé continued, and her voice took on a queer softness, as though she were approaching a feral animal. “They say it was you. That you killed your father and fled. They’ve dispatched soldiers to find you. There’s a reward for your capture—dead or alive.”

“That’s a lie,” Lu blurted. “I would never—that’s a lie!” She took a step toward Adé, as though she had been the one to make up the story.

Nok could see the truth dawning on her now. She’d been set up. If her cousin could not kill her, he would do worse—turn her into a murderer, a traitor. Guilty of regicide and patricide—a criminal of unforgivable proportions. Who would be hated and hunted from one end of the empire to the other.

“So, what now?” Lu demanded. “It’s not over. Set can’t have won.”

“Yuri may have underestimated him,” Omair mused.

“Set underestimated me!” Lu snapped. She looked as though she were barely resisting the urge to hack Omair’s kitchen table to pieces. “He can’t think he’ll get away with this! I have to do something.”

“We will,” Omair reassured her. “When Yuri gets here.”

“And what about her?” Lu said, nodding toward Adé. “What if she tells someone she saw me?”

“She won’t,” Nok interjected.

“How can you be sure?” the princess pressed, looking past Nok to size up the other girl. “How can you trust her?”

“They can trust me!” Adé said hotly, glaring back. “Omair and Nok are my friends—I’d never do anything to hurt them.” Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Your Highness.”

Lu scowled, holding Adé’s gaze for a moment longer. Seemingly satisfied by what she found there, she grabbed her sword from the table and retreated out of the kitchen.

Nok groaned, slumping against the wall. Beside him, Adé was trembling.

“Nok, what is happening?” she hissed. “What is Princess Lu doing in your house? You know half the imperial guard is looking for her.”

Omair came in close and took her by the arm. He looked at her, eyes solemn. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone, Adé. Not your mother, not Carmine—”

“Of course not!” She turned to Nok. “You know me, Nok. I would never—”

“You need to go,” he interrupted harshly. His fear was wearing thin and only anger remained in its wake—anger at Lu, and at himself for letting things go this awry. “I told you, you can’t be here. It’s not safe. Please, go. Before someone sees.”

He pulled the girl from Omair’s gentle grasp and threw open the front door.

Five soldiers astride as many warhorses stood in the yard. Heavy swords hung from broad leather straps at their waists. The men’s steel-studded uniforms were torn and splattered with dried mud that did not entirely hide the cobalt Hana-blue cloth beneath or the red-flame badges of the Hu Empire emblazoned on their chests.

Nok’s knees buckled.

The man in their lead slid from his saddle. “You, there! Is this where the healer lives?”