Chapter 27 #2
Liqin stared at the minister, his expression darkening. “The law clearly states that whoever holds the royal seal will become the heir of Sian. You dare question the law?”
Another official stepped forward, speaking grimly. “If Your Highness has truly committed the heinous acts that Prince Renshu mentioned and you didn’t deny, then it would not be appropriate for you to claim the throne.”
Liqin scoffed. “So are you saying you’ll bend the law—just for the son of an inferior consort? You’d truly give him the right to rule?”
“If he is worthy, and wants it,” the official said, looking at Ren. “Do you want it, Your Highness?”
“I—” Ren hesitated.
“This is ridiculous,” Liqin spat. Taking advantage of Ren’s distraction, he knocked away the sword at his throat and blindly thrust his dagger forward—all rage, without a care to whom he struck.
Ren twisted to shield me, inhaling sharply as his brother buried his knife in his shoulder.
“Ren!” I gripped my staff, prepared to call back the skeleton, but Ren’s hand slipped over mine.
“No,” he gasped. “I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not!” I hissed, staring at the hilt protruding from behind him. “Anshi—”
But the governor’s assistant had already slammed Liqin onto the ground, pinning his arms behind his back. He wriggled vehemently, threatening to break free from Anshi’s hold. They were too equally matched in strength—and desperation.
The officials watched uselessly from the veranda, the guards frozen as they considered which was their enemy.
I gritted my teeth and clasped the front of Ren’s shirt. “We need to leave. And you need a physician to remove that dagger.”
“It’s all right, Siying.” He pulled away, already reaching for the knife’s hilt. With a pained grunt, he yanked it out of his shoulder. The fresh blood on his fingers mingled with mine, dripping onto the white stones below.
I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from shrieking. “I said a physician!”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “This worked just as well.”
Then he turned to look at Anshi still kneeling over his brother.
“I want the seal,” she said, locking eyes with Ren. “The priestess promised.”
Ren nodded, unsurprised. “You’ll have it. But first, I need you to let him go.”
“Will you kill him?”
At Ren’s silence, Anshi reluctantly released her hold on Liqin, but not without slamming his face one last time against the ground. Ren approached his brother, the offending dagger still trickling blood from his hand.
Groaning, the elder prince rolled onto his back and grinned at Ren through crimson teeth. “It isn’t that often that you get a second chance. Will you waste it again?”
“I’m not running anymore,” Ren said, holding the dagger over his brother.
I could feel the tension stretched between everyone in the courtyard as we watched, breathless, waiting for glass to break. But I looked only at Ren, trying to read the intentions behind the lines of his profile.
Liqin deserved to die. Whether by Ren’s hand or mine or the law’s, it didn’t matter.
But his ending was Ren’s decision. This was something for him to choose, regardless of what I wanted.
For once, I couldn’t control the outcome of another’s life.
I could only stand back and trust that Ren would make the right decision.
“Kill me,” Liqin sneered, staring up at Ren. “Do it, you coward.”
The officials tittered nervously.
“Your Highness—”
“Please—”
“Perhaps we should—”
“No.” Ren’s voice resounded clearly, firmly, across the courtyard.
He tossed aside the dagger, his eyes never leaving Liqin’s.
Even the blade’s noisy fall didn’t make him flinch.
“I won’t be like you. I’ve seen firsthand the pain you’ve caused, the lives you’ve ruined.
I’ve hurt others too, through my ignorance and fear.
But the bloodshed ends now. What our state needs is change—in the way we govern, in the laws we make, in the care we show.
It needs a king who will listen, who doesn’t draw strength from domineering everyone else. Regrettably, that king can’t be you.”
“But it can be you?” Liqin’s tone dripped with disdain. “You don’t know the first thing about ruling.”
Ren smiled, with no hint of malice. Just genuine, hopeful warmth.
“Perhaps,” he said, “but I’m willing to learn and willing to try. Besides, my weaknesses can be strengthened by the guidance and aid of many good people.” His gaze flicked to me, the look in his eyes almost reverent. “Including the people of this kingdom.”
“You’re soft, Ren.” Liqin pushed himself onto his elbows. “And that’s a weakness that can never be overcome.”
“No,” Ren disagreed. “It is precisely softness that this nation needs to grow stronger.”
Liqin scoffed. “Naive as always.”
Without warning, he grabbed the nearest weapon, a single-edged sword, and slashed it at the younger prince.
But Ren moved swiftly, kicking the hilt from his brother’s hand, then kneeing him in the head. The older prince fell backward, groaning. At Ren’s nod, the guards snapped out of their daze and rushed forward to restrain Liqin.
I closed my eyes and breathed. It was finally over.
As a crowd gathered, I grabbed Ren’s arm and tugged him away. I looked him over for signs of further injury. “I thought you couldn’t fight.”
“I said I was a terrible soldier.” He grimaced as I touched the wound on his back. “I never said I couldn’t fight. I’m just … ah, clumsy sometimes.”
“Clumsy enough to be killed?”
“That was one time.” He paused, thinking. “Well, maybe twice. But I didn’t die this time. You must give me credit for that.”
I sighed. “Will you please see a physician now?”
He held my face in his hands, glancing at the blood in my hair. “Why don’t we find the royal physician together? We must ensure you haven’t lost any of your wits.”
“Ha ha. Clearly, you’ve already lost yours, joking at a time like this.”
“Well, you know—”
His words cut off as Anshi materialized beside us, her expression stern. Despite the scratches and bruises on her face and the dirt on her tunic, she stood as straight as ever. Even her ponytail remained resilient, spilling neatly down her back.
I bowed my head at the governor’s assistant. “Thank you for your help.”
“You asked for a favor,” Anshi replied. “Now you must return it.”
“Ah, of course.” Ren limped over to the guards carrying Liqin out. He exchanged a brief word with the supervising official, then hurried back, the seal in hand. He placed it delicately in Anshi’s outstretched palm. “One royal seal, as promised.”
I stared at the jade dragon, our nation’s symbol of power and authority. How much pain it had inspired. How easily Ren gave it away now, confident in the need for new beginnings.
Anshi met his friendly smile with narrowed eyes. “You’ve indeed kept your promise. But do you truly intend to take the throne regardless of whether you have the seal or not?”
Ren’s smile faltered, and he nodded more seriously. “Yes, I do. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I plan to change things—for Sian and Wen both. Keep the seal as a token of peace, Miss Anshi, and make your report to your governor. I hope to discuss the future of our states with him soon.”
“The governor has tried to open dialogue before,” said Anshi, eyeing Ren with visible doubt. “Sian never listened. What makes this time any different?”
“Because instead of sending biased ambassadors or angry letters, I’ll personally visit your governor and speak to him face-to-face.”
Anshi arched an eyebrow. “You’d risk your safety by traveling to Wen?”
“I trust the kindness of your people. Which is why I want to give the same in return.”
Something in Anshi softened. She seemed to realize that Ren meant every word he was saying. Even more importantly, the language he’d used acknowledged Wen’s independence. I suspected he’d be the king who finally let go of the subject state, who fought his own councilors to make it happen.
“Very well.” Anshi bowed her head, tucking the seal into her pocket. “I shall report to the governor and send his response.”
Ren dipped his head in respect. “Thank you, Miss Anshi.”
The governor’s assistant nodded and looked at me. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
“Perhaps we will,” I said, not entirely dreading the idea. For a while, we’d been enemies, then allies. Given time, we could even become friends.
With one final nod, Anshi slipped out the side entrance of the courtyard and disappeared.
After she’d gone, Ren released a long sigh. “That woman terrifies me.”
“Does she?” I turned to look at him.
“Of course. You two are rather alike in temperament.”
“You don’t seem very afraid of me.”
“How are you so certain I’m not?” He motioned at the staff in my hand. “If not for that, I would’ve run from you long ago.”
I tilted my head. “I never abused my powers with you.”
“Like hell you didn’t. I’ve never seen anyone speak to royalty the way you do.”
“Perhaps if you’d behaved more like royalty, I’d have spoken more respectfully.”
He opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it. After a pause, he leaned closer to stare directly into my eyes, a secretive smile touching his lips. “What about earlier? Did I behave like royalty then?”
I knew what moment he referred to—when he’d finally declared his decision to be heir. It was what I’d asked of him for so long. And, it seemed, it was also something he now wanted for himself.
But in truth, he’d always wanted it, as my father surmised. He’d only needed the courage to say it.
“Yes.” I smiled. “You were very much like royalty then. That’s why I’m confident you’ll make a wonderful king, Ren. We’re all trusting in you.”
I expected him to laugh or continue to tease. Instead, his eyes widened, and his cheeks turned pink. “Your sincerity is no fun,” he mumbled.
I smirked. “It’s not my fault you can’t take a compliment.”
He laughed, and then his expression softened as he gazed down at me. My pulsed tripped over the intensity of his stare. “Siying,” he started, “what we discussed at your home. I—”
“Your Highness.”
We both jumped at the voice, turning to see one of the ministers standing beside us. Concern etched lines into his forehead and around his mouth.
“Prince Renshu.” He glanced back at the other officials. They bowed their heads when Ren looked their way. “We must get you to the royal physician. Once you’re recovered, there are documents for you to read and papers to sign. With your father still in bed—”
“I wish to see him,” Ren interrupted. “My father. There is much I need to talk to him about, including my intention to become crown prince.”
I studied him, thinking of Liqin’s confession to the poisoning of his mother. Certainly, Ren had a million questions about that too.
“Of course, Your Highness. There’s also the matter of the royal seal. Since you’ve given it away to the enemy—”
“An ally, not enemy,” Ren corrected.
The minister grimaced but nodded. “My apologies. Since it’s with your ally, we’ll need to discuss how to make your claim to the throne official—”
“My father first.”
“No,” I cut in, drawing the curious gazes of the officials. Most of them still appeared wary of the priestess who’d stomped into the audience hall with an army of skeletons. I couldn’t blame them. I had my own messes to tend to as well.
“No?” Ren repeated, meeting my eyes.
“The physician first,” I reminded him. “You mustn’t let your wound get infected. That’d be an incredibly foolish mistake after you’ve already decided to take the throne.”
The official tensed, shocked by my lack of formality.
Ren only rolled his eyes and nodded. “Very well. But you’re coming with me.”