Chapter 7 #2
Ignoring the stands shouting for my attention, I stopped only in front of tents selling transportable produce, as well as the general store, where I purchased a small sack of rice and strips of dried meat.
From my periphery, I watched Ren for signs of trouble. But he appeared satisfied with gazing at the bustle surrounding him, eyes wide and curious. It was the first time I’d seen such an open expression on his face. A smile began to touch my lips before I caught myself. What was wrong with me?
“Come,” I said, leading him away from the store. “We have one more stop to make.”
“Where?”
“The apothecary’s shop.”
It was a place I disliked visiting, no matter what town I was in.
Ren, however, was visibly eager to see more of the things he’d missed while growing up inside the palace walls.
His enthusiasm would’ve been endearing if not for the fact that he’d been raised in luxury while the rest of us struggled to feed our families.
As if the gods had heard my thoughts and were prompted to tease, a commotion interrupted our path to the apothecary’s.
The shop was located at the opposite end of the village square, an open space lined with wooden walls for local bulletins and businesses that spilled out their doors.
I could’ve easily cut through the traffic if not for a crowd that had gathered in the center of the square.
At the heart of the offending mass, several young men stood on an open-roofed caravan, passing out flyers that must’ve taken days to transcribe. They wore the dusty blue and tan tunics of commoners, their faces flushed from the vehemence of their cries.
As I analyzed the crowd for an opening to pass through, I heard cries of “loyalty to self” and “freedom for the people.” So these men were separatists seeking support against the crown. Seeking soldiers to fight.
Prior to meeting Liu Chunhua, I would’ve sympathized with their call.
For years, Wen had been pushing to become an independent state from Sian, blaming cultural differences and the monarchy’s neglect.
It was true that the king of Sian cared little for Wen except for when it came to the crops and taxes the state had to offer.
When the fainting-fever epidemic hit Wen, the king did nothing.
When floods and typhoons struck from the South Sea bordering Wen, the king sent nothing.
Only when the citizens of Wen proposed secession did the king mobilize his armies—to quell the growing rebellions.
As a priestess, I was taught by my father not to involve myself in politics. The disagreement lay between the Sian king and the Wen governor, whereas our job was to keep our heads down and let the flow of the universe right disturbances in its own time.
But as someone who’d lost her mother to the king’s selfish negligence, I couldn’t help but support Wen’s discontent.
At least, that was how I used to feel.
Now, having seen how Chunhua had been punished for failing to birth a son, one who could grow to fight for the military, I knew that even the Wen government wasn’t infallible when it came to the collateral costs of war.
“What’s happening here?” Ren asked, loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
Before I could respond, a bystander answered, “They say the king’s seal, the one that determines his heir, has been lost!”
Lost? That didn’t bode well for the growing tension between Sian and Wen.
“This is the perfect opportunity for Wen to strike, while Sian is panicking over their old-fashioned traditions!”
“But I also heard that the second prince has gone missing,” said another, drawn by the undercurrent of gossip. “The Sian officials dare to allege that the governor of Wen is responsible.”
“What nonsense! With war imminent, they’re just looking for a reason to attack us first.”
Forgoing courtesy, I grabbed Ren by the arm and pulled him away from the chattering townsfolk, shoving through any opening that caught my eye. I didn’t dare look at his face, preferring to remain ignorant. Whether he was angry or hurt, it wasn’t my responsibility.
When I finally had enough space to spread out both arms, I considered my surroundings and realized, much to my annoyance, that we were a street off from the apothecary’s. But there was no way in heaven I’d brave that mob again. We’d have to take the longer way around to the other side.
“They think I’ve been kidnapped,” Ren said as we strode down the street.
I glanced at him, noting the flyer in his hand. Someone in the crowd must’ve shoved it toward him in passing. As expected, the bold calligraphy called for brave and able sons to enlist in the governor’s army against the tyrant king.
“Yes,” I said impassively. “And they’re not too far from the truth.”
“Is it possible the Wen governor is the one who knows my identity?”
“I have no idea. And it’s dangerous to make assumptions without evidence. For now, we should focus on replenishing your qi and returning to Sian.”
When he didn’t reply immediately, I thought the conversation ended. But then he said, “Do you think my father will truly go to war over this?”
“I wouldn’t put it past a man like your father.
” I caught his grimace and experienced a twinge of guilt.
Resentful as I was toward the king, and as complicated as his relationship was with his sons, the man was still Ren’s father.
More gently, I said, “Your disappearance is only an excuse. Wen and Sian will eventually go to war whether you’re missing or not. There are other stakes at play.”
“What stakes?”
“As if you don’t already know.” I rolled my eyes, walking around a cart of honeydew.
“Do you mean the fainting fever?” said Ren. “Because Wen believes that independence from Sian will somehow protect them from future epidemics?”
“It’s not just about epidemics, Your Highness.” I turned left into an alleyway that cut through to the neighboring street. The conversation—and the fact that it even needed to be had—was beginning to grate on me. “How can someone so close to the Sian government be so ignorant?”
“I may have lived in the palace, but I wasn’t privy to every political matter.”
An edge crept into my voice. “You mean you didn’t want to know. Because you wanted to be ‘free from the pressures of ruling.’”
He scoffed. “You say that as if ruling is easy. Desirable, even. But you’ve no idea what it’s like to live the life of a king’s son. The insurmountable burdens inherited at birth.”
“That’s no excuse for being ignorant of issues in your own kingdom.”
“So tell me what I’m so ignorant of!”
His irritation, bubbling over the edge, crashed into my own. I stopped in my tracks and spun around to face him.
“You really want my answer?” I snapped, stomping on the line between prince and priestess. The alley’s cold gray walls seemed to lean in, suffocating me. “Just think of what happened with Liu Chunhua.”
His brows wrinkled. “What, that she was killed by her in-laws? What does that have to do with Sian?”
“Everything! No one knows when this war will begin, but we all know that it will soon enough. Because your father hates the idea of losing his power over Wen. He’ll kill his own subjects to keep them in line. And in desperation, those same subjects have become obsessed with war.
“Take Chunhua’s in-laws, for example. How they believed her child should’ve been born a son.
How they demanded that every single day of her pitiful marriage.
And you know why they wanted a son so badly?
So he could grow into a soldier fit to defend this state against your father, the king who refuses to let go of Wen.
It’s his greed that’s engendered such evil in these people.
Like it or not, Sian’s power is the root of this poisonous tree. ”
“But you’re a citizen of Sian.” Ren shook his head. “If what you say is true, why haven’t you petitioned my father? A king is supposed to listen to his people.”
“Yes, he is.” I smiled grimly. “But your father doesn’t listen. He only punishes those who dare to disobey.”
Less than a year ago, several Sian farmers had grown tired of the king’s selfishness and apathy toward citizens from both Sian and Wen, and they’d gathered together to confront the king in Hulin.
On the way there, the royal army interrupted their march, and when the men refused to turn around, the soldiers slaughtered them and left their corpses there to rot.
Per the king’s decree, no one, not even ganshi priests, was allowed to retrieve the bodies.
The local magistrate nicknamed the field the grave of traitors.
The spot of the massacre was just outside Baimu. I passed it every time I traveled home.
“My father may not be the most affectionate man,” Ren said flintily, “but he can’t be as evil as you think.”
I shrugged. “Believe what you will. But do you want to know what irks me even more than your father’s rule? The fact that you have the position and power to make a difference, and yet you run away from it.”
I’d spent enough time with Ren to know he wasn’t cruel, not like his father. Mercy could be such a powerful trait in a king. But he wasn’t brave either.
“It isn’t that simple,” he argued. “My brother has spent his whole life preparing to take the throne. He’s the one who can change everything.”
“Not without the king’s seal.” The cursed symbol of tradition that Sian had apparently lost. Or had it been stolen by an enemy of the king? I wouldn’t be surprised.
Ren’s expression grew strangely determined. “He’ll find it. And whatever grievances you have against my father, Mistress Kang, I promise that my brother Liqin is much more willing to do what’s right. Once I return, I’ll make sure he’s declared heir.”
I recalled the less-than-flattering rumors I’d heard about the first prince, how he obeyed his father’s orders without protest, how he was every bit like the king who’d raised him.
But Ren knew him personally, so perhaps the rumors weren’t accurate. And as spoiled and oblivious as Ren was, he wasn’t unkind. Maybe I could hope the same from his brother.
“Enough talk of politics,” I said, weary from my outburst. I was unused to discussing my opinions out loud for so long, considering my father’s aversion to the topic.
“We have more immediate matters to attend to, like your impending death. If you want to survive this journey, you’ll need all the help you can get. ”