Chapter 27
As the air flooded into my lungs and my mind slowly returned to the waking world, I felt arms cradling my head. Someone was weeping. Their tears trickled off my cheek, seeping into my hair.
There were other sounds too—the huffs of heavy breaths intermingled with frustrated grunts. The scraping of boots against gravel. Swords singing as they clanged against each other.
But my consciousness didn’t immediately react to the danger of those noises.
I pushed my eyelids open, squinting at the sunlight half hidden behind the head bent over mine. Finally, my senses stirred as I recognized Ren’s grief-stricken face.
I’d seen him despondent before. I’d also seen flickers of anger, annoyance, hurt. But I’d never seen him cry. He was too good at bandaging his concerns with his natural lightheartedness. A lightheartedness that seemed entirely forgotten now.
Suddenly, the resentment that’d bound us together during our last meeting unraveled, and all I wanted was to hear his laugh.
“Ren,” I whispered, my own eyes stinging.
He swiped away his tears and stared at me in shock. His fingers grazed my cheek, trembling and stained with blood—my blood. That was new; I’d gotten used to him being the broken one. Now our roles had reversed.
“Siying?” he gasped, sweeping his arms around my shoulders and holding me closer. “Thank the heavens—I thought I’d lost you.”
“Not yet,” I croaked.
He leaned back to study me, worry creasing his brow. “How—how do you feel?”
As my mind woke, so did the rest of my body. I grew aware of a sharp pain in the side of my head, as if someone had struck me with a hammer. My hip and ribs ached as well, and I could feel open wounds stinging all over.
“Like death,” I muttered. “What happened?”
Behind him, the sounds of fighting persisted, but I couldn’t see what was happening.
“You hit your head on the edge of the veranda,” Ren replied, voice pained.
He brushed his forehead against mine, his skin soft and warm.
Liquid sunlight pooled at the bottom of my stomach.
“It was only for a minute, but you weren’t breathing and there was so much blood and—oh gods, I truly thought you were dead.
I’m so sorry, Siying. This is all my fault.
I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve trusted you. And now—”
“I’m still here,” I said, staring up at an impossibly blue sky caught within the square of the courtyard eaves. “And you came here. You came looking for your brother.”
“I was captured.”
“You’re here now. And you—you must be the one to end this, Ren.”
He shifted to meet my eyes again. “I’m not ready.”
In those quiet words, I heard myself objecting to the unfairness of life. But life had never promised to be fair. Neither had death. All anyone could do was believe they were strong enough to survive.
“You’re more ready than you think,” I said, remembering my father’s certainty. “Now help me up.”
“What? But—”
“Do it, Ren.”
He knew me well enough not to protest further. Sliding his arm behind my back, he lifted me onto my feet and kept his hand on my waist for support. His touch calmed the remaining traces of fear in my mind.
My feet bumped against my staff on the ground, the bells ringing. Ren quickly bent to pick it up and passed it to me. Turning, I beheld Anshi and Liqin entangled in a fierce duel, shuffling about the courtyard fringes as they fought to keep the other’s blade away.
Across from them stood my remaining skeleton. It faced me, waiting for my next command. It’d be so easy, especially with Liqin distracted, to plunge the skeleton’s dagger into his back. Or even to snap his neck. My hatred still simmered in my chest, ready to be called upon.
But I didn’t give an order. Instead, I stared at the skeleton poised there so obediently and remembered the most unexpected of facts: In life, it hadn’t been obedient at all.
The man it once was had disagreed with his monarch and stood up alongside comrades who felt the same.
That man had his own desires, a head filled with joyful memories, and a heart driven by empathy for others.
He’d had agency. And Liqin had taken away that agency by killing him.
But I’d done the same by reanimating him for my own vengeance. I’d convinced myself this was what my army wanted. But in all my years as a ganshi priestess, I’d learned that the dead—whether lost, embittered, or afraid—truly wanted only one thing. And that was peace.
Lilan had been right.
I’d committed a terrible wrong, and it was time I fixed it.
I shook my bells and gave one final command: “Fall.”
The skeleton crumpled to the ground, its short sword skidding across the courtyard pavement. The clatter of its bones hitting stone drew both Anshi’s and Liqin’s attention. They leaped away from each other, eyes flicking from the fallen skeleton to me.
“You’re still alive?” Liqin snarled.
I managed a weak smirk. “I told you I’d only follow after you, Your Highness.”
Furious, he charged toward me. Anshi reached for his arm but only brushed air.
With surprising speed, Ren snatched the skeleton’s sword from the ground and raised it in time to parry his brother’s knife. The metal edges screeched against each other, making everyone wince. Startled shouts came from somewhere nearby, followed by the frantic padding of footsteps.
“Step aside, Ren,” Liqin growled. “This girl has disrespected me one too many times. I’ll have her head now.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ren strained to push back his brother’s blade with only one hand, his other still holding me up. “When did you become so cruel, so bloodthirsty? Answer me, dage!”
“I am not your brother!” Liqin spun to kick away Anshi, who’d been creeping toward him.
Then he glared back at Ren, speaking breathily.
“Are you truly so naive, Ren? You were the bastard son of a lowly consort. You should’ve stayed in your place.
But after I killed that foolish mother of yours, Father only grew more interested in you.
He pushed you in your studies, wanted to see how you and I compared.
I tried so hard to prove myself all these years—but you didn’t even care! ”
The air seemed to flee from the courtyard.
“Wait,” I gasped. “You’re the one who—”
“You poisoned my mother?” Ren whispered. “Does Father know?”
“I told him it was an accident.” Liqin smiled. “I was fifteen and much more ready to inherit the throne. He couldn’t let such a scandal ruin his reputation or his legacy. So he blamed it on your mother’s healer and killed the servants who knew the truth.”
Ren looked as sick as I felt. “How could you?”
Liqin pointed at Ren with his dagger. “I’ve never seen you as my brother, Renshu.
My kindness toward you was to win Father’s approval, to hold on to what little power I had.
But you, the son of his favorite consort, threatened to take away everything I’d worked for.
You were always a thorn festering in my side. ”
“Is—is that why you helped me enlist in the military?” Ren asked, his voice breaking. “Did—did you truly want me dead too?”
At that, Liqin laughed cruelly. “Of course I wanted you dead! And you offered yourself up when you said you wanted to sneak into the military. A rare stroke of genius on your part, I must say. It couldn’t have been more fitting, you dying in the army as a pawn.
I even tried to ensure it by sending your unit into Wen, knowing you’d be attacked.
But then Father fell ill, and I realized you’d taken that cursed seal.
” It seemed he hadn’t poisoned the king after all.
He’d just been dealt with unlucky timing.
“I’d hoped to take it off your corpse. How was I to know that damned sorceress would bring you back to life? ”
“I’m a priestess,” I corrected, glowering at him over the edge of Ren’s sword. “And I didn’t bring him back to life. His spirit returned because his will to live was that strong. You failed, Your Highness, and you have only yourself to blame.”
“I haven’t failed yet.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the jade dragon. Anshi narrowed her eyes at the seal, looking ready to pounce. “With this, I’ll become the rightful king of Sian.”
“That seal doesn’t make a king,” Ren said, clenching the hilt of his sword.
I glanced at him, recognizing the hurt tearing apart his expression. Liqin’s words had certainly hit their target and cracked through Ren’s usual mask of optimism.
But mixed into the hurt was another emotion—anger. It buoyed Ren in a way that was all too familiar. I saw it steady his hand as he leveled his sword at his brother’s chest, the lines of his jaw hard with resolve.
“You’ve hurt too many people,” he said to Liqin. “You’ve killed dozens of men, caused the deaths of countless others, and attempted to murder everyone in this courtyard. You killed my mother. You don’t deserve any mercy.”
Liqin smirked. “Will you kill me, then? You’ve always been better at running than chasing, xiaodi.”
Ren lifted the blade to Liqin’s throat. “As you said, we’re not brothers.”
I tensed as I prepared to stop Ren from making the same mistake I nearly had. But before anyone could move, a crowd of haggard-looking officials and guards poured into the courtyard, gathering along the veranda to stare at the bloodied scene before them.
Broken skeletons littered the ground. Weapons were thrown haphazardly across the stone. Blood marked every person in the area. And the king’s two sons faced each other with their blades drawn.
“Your Highness.” One of the ministers broke the silence first, falling to his knees with his hands clasped. “Please stop this. The king wouldn’t want this.”
It took a moment for me to realize the minister was speaking to Liqin, not Ren. They must’ve heard everything, only appearing now to prevent the worst from happening.