Chapter 17 #3
“Where will we be meeting with the queen?” Rion asked. Her voice was … fine. Smooth. Light. It was the voice she used for queens and kings and princes … because that was a voice she had, now.
Rion was also changing.
Once again, Eiko had picked the short stick.
She was changing in ways that had her encouraging hands to wrap around her neck, wanting to stuff as much food as humanly possible down her gullet, and considering marriage proposals she didn’t even want just because she caught sight of the queen’s jewellery.
Rion was changing to become even more poised and perfect.
Eiko wasn’t jealous.
Not really.
She mostly wasn’t jealous.
I can feel how jealous you are, Hymn pointed out. It’s honestly shocking how jealous you are. I wasn’t expecting it to burn so badly. Are you okay?
She ignored him because the attendant was speaking.
“Her Grace waits in one of the Brightfort courtyards. If you would follow me, please.”
Rion stepped away from the table and none of them hesitated to follow her, much to the attendant’s apparent chagrin. Eiko knew his voice—it was the same man who had been sent to fetch her the previous two times. He made a small, strangled sound as all four of them fell into step behind Rion.
“I’m afraid—” he began.
“Yeah,” Eiko said pleasantly, “don’t worry, we just happen to be walking in the same direction.”
Kaito’s hand found the back of her uniform without thinking—guiding her through the hall, steadying her at the step into the courtyard, though she knew where it was by now. The closer they got to the courtyard, the louder it became.
It wasn’t the noise that greeted her every morning, the jostling bodies and clanging weapons, the shouted corrections and lecturing section leaders.
It was softer and messier.
Home.
Voices overlapped, and there was a gasp. A sob that tried to become a laugh and failed.
Then—
“Rion!”
The voice hit Eiko like an arrow, making it hard to breathe. It was the same tone Rion’s mother used whenever they stayed out too late. Relief and scolding. Mei.
Rion stopped so abruptly, Eiko walked into her. Ren and Kaito quickly steadied her. Rion didn’t even seem to notice.
Eiko felt the change before she heard it: Rion’s breath went ragged. Her perfect posture faltered. Something in her finally slipped and snapped. “Mama.” Her voice wobbled, sounding so suddenly small. “Papa.”
Then suddenly, she was running. Her boots slapped over stone, fast and uneven, every inch of her poised and polished persona dropping away.
The courtyard exploded in sound.
Mei cried out, the sound high and shaking, and then there was the thud of bodies colliding, arms wrapping and squeezing, Rion sobbing into someone’s shoulder. It had tears springing to Eiko’s eyes.
“My girl.” Rion’s father, Hayu. His voice broke. “My girl—Light above, my girl. You’re alive.”
Eiko’s throat burned. Beside her, Kaito was so still. His fingers pressed against her back, like he needed to anchor himself to something solid.
A second later, Rion’s mother made a sound that was almost a laugh through tears. “Ky!”
And suddenly Ky was being pulled in too, swallowed by the sounds of hugging and grief and relief.
Eiko took a hesitant step into the courtyard, leaving the shadow of the hall’s entrance. Sunlight hit her face, warm and bright, and she tried to stir her second sight, but it was still weak as a dying ember. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need it.
She knew these voices.
She knew the cadence of Stonesigh. The rough edges. The tough love.
A smaller set of footsteps came running from the other side of the courtyard.
“Rion!” a younger female voice cried. Emi. And then a boy’s voice that cracked mid-shout. Han.
“Rion! You’re alive!”
Rion laughed, and then immediately sobbed again. Eiko’s chest twisted so hard it felt like she had been kicked. The king and queen hadn’t simply decided to bring Rion’s parents into this … whatever this was. They had dragged her younger brother and sister into it too.
A pair of footsteps broke away from the knot of bodies and came straight towards her. Eiko heard the approach and stiffened automatically, her cane lifting a fraction out of instinct. She had been conditioned in only a few days to expect pain whenever someone suddenly came at her.
But the voice that met her wasn’t unfamiliar at all.
“Ai-yahh,” a man scolded gently, and a fresh outpouring of tears sprang to life in her eyes. “Eiko.”
“Hayu,” she croaked.
His hands cupped her shoulders, something he had done a hundred times before, like she was just another child who had scraped her knee and was trying to sneak home without getting it treated.
“You reckless little thing,” he said, and his voice thickened. “Always getting into trouble, you five.”
Then Rion’s mother was there, too, her hands on Eiko’s cheeks.
“Oh,” she whispered, voice as soft as Eiko had ever heard it. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Rion’s father moved on to Kaito, pulling him in for a tight hug, whispering something to him so low that Eiko couldn’t catch it.
“You’ve gotten so thin,” Rion’s mother said, horrified.
What? “I’ve been eating a lot,” Eiko admitted.
Mei made a sound of disbelief that Eiko had heard a thousand times before. “Eat more.”
“I’d love to,” Eiko joked, “but—” She quickly cut herself off.
What in the dark could she possibly say?
That her trainer had taken a liking to whacking her so hard in the stomach that her next meal was always a rough mouthful of arena muck from the stone ground?
That after dinner, she burned through all her energy too quickly, sending herself to sleep before she had a chance to even drag herself to bed?
She couldn’t even tell her about the delicious coffee. She was drinking it to keep herself alive from a poisoning that may or may not even be real.
“Mei,” Kaito saved her, pulling the woman into a hug.
Rion’s little sister and brother collided with her a second later, breathless and delighted. They latched onto her and Ky, talking at a speed that Eiko would need several more bread rolls to keep up with.
This wasn’t fair.
This was cruel.
Because it felt like home … but it wasn’t.
A delicate cough sliced through the moment like a blade. That bloody attendant. He had kept his distance, but now he stepped forward with that polished, practised calm, annoyed that their grief-fuelled reunion was interrupting his schedule.
“My apologies,” he said, voice smooth as oiled stone. “Her Grace is waiting.”
Another attendant appeared—or perhaps she had been there the entire time—and began shepherding the Shulin family away, all sweetness and assurances.
The courtyard emptied too quickly, the warmth from their parting hugs fading far too fast.
Eiko stood in the sudden hush, her chest aching. Kaito seemed struck speechless. Ren was breathing deep and uneven, like he was fighting the urge to hit a wall. Ky and Eiko reached for each other on instinct, clasping hands in a tight, reassuring grip.
“We were supposed to have a month to figure this out,” she whispered. “Or at least … longer than this.”
“Instead, you got a leash,” Kaito said plainly.
Collateral, Hymn agreed quietly. This is how the royal family works.
“They’ll think it’s real,” Eiko whispered. “Rion won’t tell them the truth. She won’t put that on them. She’ll fall in line, now.”
“Of course they’ll think it’s real,” Kaito spat. “Why wouldn’t they? What parent wouldn’t want to believe their daughter is being honoured instead of—” He cut himself off.
Because none of them had words that didn’t feel like treason. None of them had words that felt safe saying out loud. Not in the King of All’s territory. Not when it suddenly felt like he had eyes and ears all throughout Lyra.
How else would he have known that summoning Rion’s family would be more than enough to force Eiko into line, as well?
“They seemed … thrilled,” Ky whispered.
“Blind girl!” Cairn was stalking towards them from the arena, his hobbled walk unmistakable. “You’re late!”
“Gotta go.” She sighed, squeezing Ky’s hand once before releasing him. With every step into the arena, she felt her body shaking more and more, the shock settling beneath her skin.
She had come to Goldmoor thinking the war was outside the walls.
Outside their world, even. There were sometimes squabbles between the regions—alliances broken and remade, deals squandered and reformed, campaigns for land and territory—but the real enemy had always seemed clear, at least to Eiko.
It was supposed to be the Quiet. The monsters who waited for darkness, who tried to claw into their minds and take over their bodies.
She had no idea that war was also right here. In golden sitting rooms and tinkling courtyards. Hiding behind skilful manipulations and veiled, jovial warnings.
There was a hidden war in the space between what the King of All wanted and what his subjects were willing to give … and she had already lost her first battle before she could even see it for what it was.