The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(99)

He nodded encouragingly. A smile trembled across his lips and it was a precious thing.

“Citizens of Yunis,” Lu heard herself say, tearing her eyes from his to refocus on the crowd. “Set is marching here, right now, with the imperial army at his back. I come before you now as a messenger, an exile—but also as a potential ally and friend. I beg you: give me an army. Help me reclaim my throne and overthrow the false emperor Set. Only I know his weaknesses, his flaws.”

She stepped forward, her voice full of fire. “As emperor, I will end the war and colonization ravaging the North. I will bring strength and friendship and prosperity between us. Grant your people the security and freedom to open your borders once more. Give me an army, and help me bring peace upon both our lands.”

Her words rang in the stillness of the hall. Then, she fell back to her knees in a deep bow before the Triarch, her forehead pressed to the stone steps.

The Yunians began to murmur. “Could she really do it?”

“What of the cost to our people?”

“It’s too great a risk . . .”

Prince Shen stood. “Enough! The Triarch will have silence.”

The voices evaporated.

She looked up from the floor and met the prince’s hard gaze. “You speak well, Princess Lu of the Empire of the First Flame,” he said. “What you promise—peace between our lands—is, naturally, of utmost importance to us.” His mouth set in a firm line, he continued: “However, I fear we cannot give you what we do not have. Our army is but a small garrison, barely three hundred men and women. And each is needed to protect what is left of our city, especially in the wake of your cousin’s impending false war.” He turned his back and walked toward the end of the dais, as if to signal that was the end of it.

“Please!” Lu cried, reaching out after him. It was pathetic, but she couldn’t care about that now. He was walking away with what little hope she had left in all the world. “I beg you, give me two hundred soldiers and when I win my throne, I will furnish you with a trained force of five thousand.”

The prince stopped, but did not turn. “No. My sister protects us here. She is all we have, and she is all we need. I cannot risk what is for what might be.”

“It’s as good a chance as—”

“Chances do not interest me, Princess Lu. I am a steward, not a gambler. You have a good claim to the throne, but nothing else. No army, no allies. Not even the clothes on your back belong to you—”

“She has my army.”

As one, the room turned to seek the voice, like the tide following the moon. Lu whipped her head around to see Nasan standing alone and tall in the crowd.

“Oh, indeed, does she?” Prince Shen retorted, his dour gravity giving way to something new—a glimmer of arrogance, of tired cynicism. “And what pretty promises did she pay you for it, Ashina Child?”

Nasan shrugged, refusing to be baited. “The return of our lands—the Gifted lands—in the event of her victory. No more than we are owed.”

Lu felt the controlled mask of her face slip and threaten to crash to the stone floor. If Nasan had wanted to support her in her plea, they should have organized a plan beforehand, presented themselves as a unified front.

“Brother,” Prince Jin rose from his seat at the side of the stage, interrupting her thoughts. “Perhaps we could consider—”

“We cannot!” Prince Shen snapped, whirling on his brother, sending the younger prince back into his little chair. Then, in a quieter voice, “The risk is too great.”

Prince Jin uttered a sound of frustration. For half a breath he looked torn, but then he sprang back to his feet. “Perhaps a risk like this is just what we need now!”

“One that could destroy us entirely? I think not.”

“Is it better to live in this limbo? This stasis? Each day our numbers dwindle. Our people grow older, more isolated. What sort of life is that for us? For them?”

“It is better to live in this ‘stasis,’ as you call it, than to die out completely,” countered his brother. “We cannot trust these imperials—”

“Prince Shen,” Lu rose to her knees, voice quavering. “The empire is here, at your doorstep. You can receive it either as Set—death, destruction—or me, offering friendship, hope for all our futures. You have every reason to be wary, but I am not my father, nor my grandfather. I give you my word.”

“How can I trust your word? You are not bound to us by any tangible means. You are not one of us,” Prince Shen replied coolly.

“What if,” Prince Jin said slowly. “What if she were one of us?”

“What do you mean?” his brother demanded.

Prince Jin strode from his seat now, down to where Lu knelt. At first, his step was tentative, light, but he seemed to grow more confident the closer he came to her. “Princess Lu, your plea has touched my heart. I will vouch for you in any way that I can.”

He extended his hand.

“Thank you,” Lu said cautiously, accepting it. He drew her to her feet.

“What if,” Jin said, his eyes never leaving hers, “we were to unite our kingdoms through family.”

Family? Lu frowned, caught off balance. “I-I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Marry me,” Prince Jin blurted. For a moment, he looked years younger—a boy no older than twelve. Then, quick as it had appeared, the child in him blinked away, replaced by the handsome young man.