43. Diar #2
Agendra asked Keiji to take us the long way to the palace—and the guard obliged. We wound around the magnificent city, drawing the eyes of every citizen we passed.
The Paragon was stoic and calm, nothing like Reese had been. With a tight, furrowed brow, he stewed in silence the entire trip. Ferris had wandered off toward a food stall, and the scent had enticed me to follow, the Paragon trailing after us in his thoughtful fog.
Nazumi's cuisine differed so greatly from Tsuyan's that it seemed almost foreign.
Keiji had happily explained what everything was to me: the tough, reedy grains that grew in their marshy fields, the thick, fatty fish caught in the western seas.
Everything was slathered in spicy sauces, made from the roots of the waterborne trees.
After eating, we wandered until the starlight faded in the sky and the moons dimmed. Lanterns hanging from tree branches and roofs came alive, lighting us in a soft, blue glow.
I leaned closer to Ferris. “Why does he seem so troubled? Paragons have more authority than kings.”
“It's not the Archdruid he’s worried about,” Ferris whispered. “It's the other nobles. Every commander and officer in Muirashi.”
“It’s true.” Keiji glanced back. “The Archdruid is more open-minded than most. But he risks enraging his entire country by putting a woman in charge of them.”
By the endless sea. I hadn’t considered that—Ishii had outranked every commander in Muirashi, including my father.
Perhaps it was not that they doubted Siotha’s choice, but that they could not bear the humiliation of being beholden to a woman.
I lifted my head, marveling at the palace entrance. It had been beautiful during the day, but the soft lanterns cast an eerie glow over the lake and made the hidden colors on the platforms dance.
Ferris turned to me, but quickly bit his tongue. I smiled, despite myself.
He had become predictable. Weeks into our arrangement, he was still trying to flirt with me.
Agendra stalked past the guards on duty and shoved through the front doors. The wood groaned as they scraped across the floors.
Fire raged in the foyer's mantle, illuminating a pair of men standing before it. One, I knew all too well—Lord Ishida, dressed in his dark blue shatterblade robes.
The man opposite him was a stranger. Middle-aged with a scar crossing his cheek, he looked battle-hardened. Beautiful orange robes encased him, tied with the blue sash of the guard.
Keiji saluted him, pressing a hand to his chest and dipping his head. The scarred man must have been Sejiro, commander of Muirashi's men.
"Lord Agendra," Ishida said, bowing his head. "You're back. I wished to speak with you."
The commander Keiji had saluted glared at me, eyes tracing my face, searching.
Agendra pulled his hammer from his back and planted it before him, hands folded atop its pommel. "I'm listening."
"It's about Diar—” Ishida held up a hand when Agendra moved to speak. "She passed your trial—word has already spread." My fiancé glanced at me. "Twice she has escaped and taken Siotha. I think there's little point in opposing her anymore."
I blinked, processing Ishida's words.
Ferris placed a hand on his hip. "Wait—you want to let her assume the title now? What changed?"
"It is clear to me now that she is not the woman I believed," Ishida said. "There is another side to her—one she kept hidden." He turned back to Agendra. "You will have my support when you beseech the Archdruid. Muirashi is in too much danger for us to waste any more time."
The Paragon nodded. "Glad to hear it."
Ferris shifted closer to me. "Yes, well, your friend here doesn't seem to agree."
Commander Sejiro's gaze had not lifted from my face since we arrived. His deep blue eyes narrowed as they turned onto Ferris. "We have not been told how—and why—our Paragon died. Now, I hear a pretender was instrumental in giving this girl Siotha. I would be a fool to think nothing was afoot."
"A pretender?" Ferris played dumb.
"Glenn Seradh was never in Tsuyan." The commander's sharp eyes flicked to me. "Was he?"
"No," I admitted. "But the man who stole his name told me Ishii was found dead in a slaughtered village, up north."
"Did he? We received no such news." Sejiro stepped closer. "Someone is meddling in the succession of Paragons. Perhaps the same people who took our Emperor."
"Careful," Agendra warned. "That's a grave accusation to make against a Paragon."
"She is no Paragon," Sejiro spat. "Not yet." He glared at me one final time, then stalked away.
I chewed the inside of my lip, listening to his footsteps echo. Had Quinn not interfered, Siotha would have never fallen into my hands.
Sejiro was right to be suspicious of me. My position had been dictated by the assassins who butchered the Emperor.
By the people I'd sworn to destroy.
Ishida folded his hands behind his back. "My apologies for that display. Would you care to share a pot of tea? We all stand to benefit from . . . smoothing things over."
Agendra looked to me, waiting.
All the men in the room looked to me. I had never before stood in a room of men and been more than a ghost—a meaningless thing.
"No, thank you," I said tightly. "I would rather smooth things over with the Archdruid."
Ishida's face normally betrayed his irritation—even someone like me could read it—but today, he was impassable.
Nodding, he unclasped his hands. "I would delay your meeting until tomorrow. Let me talk sense into Sejiro." Bowing his head, he pursued the commander.
Agendra watched him leave, his eyes narrowed. With a hum, he sheathed his hammer. "You should get some rest. Follow me." He took a step and glanced back at Ferris. "You too, princeling."
"Princeling?" Ferris echoed.
Keiji chuckled. "I should get back to my post. But, Diar?" His sky—blue eyes dimmed. "Sleep with one eye open, tonight. Just in case." Bowing, he turned on his heel.
I stood rooted to the spot, hand tightening around my blade. Had Ishida always been a better man than I gave him credit for?
Never in my life had I been able to see the heart of someone, to truly read them.
Ferris touched my arm. "Are you alright?"
I didn't know Ferris, either—his truth, his past, his motives.
The rebels, their plan, their reason for choosing me . . . I should have wrung more answers from Quinn.
And I might've found them—had Ferris not intervened.
Turning toward the prince, I reminded myself of our positions.
Enemies. His help was no more genuine than Quinn's.
And it would not be long before he betrayed me.