“These are most unusual circumstances,” King Ihsan continues, pacing slowly through the center of the room—me and Serik on one side, Ziva and Yatindra on the other. Murtaugh and Alamacus stand sentinel at either end. “Never, in the history of Namaag, have refugees from Verdenet and Ashkar appeared in our swamp, seemingly bound together in purpose. My question is, what is that purpose?”
Ziva hurries to swallow an enormous bite and scoots to the edge of her seat, but Ihsan holds up a hand. “I am well aware of your views, Miss Yimeni. You made them quite clear last night. I want to hear fromthem.” He turns and peers down at me and Serik.
“I know these are strange circumstances, Your Majesty.” Serik stands and smooths his tunic, even though it’s wrinkled and soiled beyond hope. “And we shall elucidate on your every concern, but first we’d like to thank you for this munificent reception.” He’s using that strange, official tone again, and he tries to mimic the complicated bow the Namagaans perform when addressing their king—a combination of elaborate arm waving and crisscrossed legs. When the Namagaans do it, they look like a dove gently touching down on a branch. When Serik does it, he looks like an eagle crashing into a finch’s nest.
It’s so bumbling, it’s kind of adorable. But I’m the only one who thinks so. Ziva, Yatindra, Murtaugh, and even the king himself, look a breath away from laughter. I want to smack the cruel smirks off their faces. At least Serik’s making an effort.
You don’t have to overcompensate,I want to tell him.Just be yourself.
But that, right there, is the problem. In Serik’s mind, he has never been good enough.
“It all began with the shepherds freezing and starving on the winter grazing lands outside of Sagaan,” Serik resumes. “They usually endure the winter months on those fields with the help of Sun Stokers, but the Sky King withheld the Sun Stokers this year, then refused to provide shelter or aid. So we led the group south, toward Verdenet—where Enebish is from—with the hope we could appeal to King Minoak for refuge, in return for our help retaking Lutaar City from the imperial governor.”
“Who attempted to murder my father!” Ziva jumps to her feet, but Yatindra places a firm hand on the girl’s shoulder and pulls her back down.
“How did you know Lutaar City was seized?” Murtaugh asks. “We’ve heard nothing of it, and our relations are strong.” He points to his Verdenese wife.
“There were rumors …” I say, hating how flimsy it sounds.
“You dragged hundreds of people across the grasslands during winter based on a rumor?” King Ihsan stares at us, his craggy face pinched with disapproval. But he doesn’t understand. I knew it was more than just a rumor. Temujin may have lied about many things—nearly everything—but he wouldn’t lie about Verdenet.
“Technically, it isn’t a rumor if it’s true,” Ziva says matter-of-factly, and for the first time since meeting her, I appreciate her infuriating bravado. “The Sky King tried to have my father assassinated.”
“How do you know it was the Sky King and not a random mercenary?” King Ihsan demands.
“Because I was there!Idrove a blade into the assassin’s back. I saw his blue-and-gold livery. The imperial governor’s voice filled the downstairs hall, for skies’ sake! They didn’t even attempt to hide their treachery.”
King Ihsan appraises the girl with greater interest. “Youkilled your father’s assailant?”
Ziva crosses her arms and attempts to scowl, but her lip quivers.
“Even prior to the assassination attempt,” I cut in, “the Sky King had been ravaging Verdenet—stripping the people of their culture and customs, forcing them to fight a war they had no stake in and no prayer of winning.”
“It’s true.” Ziva nods at me from across the aisle. “We were never treated with respect or given the protection we were promised.”
“And it’s the same in Chotgor,” I say. “They’re more like conquered slaves than imperial citizens.”
“Has this ‘situation’ in Chotgor been confirmed or is this another rumor?” Murtaugh asks archly, which earns him exasperated looks from me and Serik. “And I still don’t see how this has anything to do with you and your shepherds.”
“It has everything to do with us!” Heat radiates from Serik like the desert sun. “The Sky King exploited and turned his back on the shepherds, just as he’s done in Verdenet and Chotgor. And he’ll do the same to Namaag, too, if you sit back and do nothing to stop him. Our only prayer of salvaging our independence is together—united. The Imperial Army would lose three-quarters of its strength without the warriors conscripted from the Protected Territories. The empire would face the real possibility of falling to Zemya, putting us in a position to make demands of the Sky King.”
There’s a good chance we’ll fall to Zemya no matterwhounites, but I don’t mention this. It might prompt Ihsan to continue to side with the Sky King. The alliance has kept his people safe in the past.
“How is any of this Namaag’s concern?” Murtaugh says. “If the other territories are being mistreated, it’s no one’s fault but their own. They shouldn’t have allowed the Sky King to gain such a firm hold. Make him respect you.”
“We didn’tallowanything!” I think Ziva’s going to throw her half-eaten scone at her uncle, but Yatindra grabs her wrist.
“Breathe, Ziva. Remember what we talked about.”
“The rest of the continent doesn’t have the same bargaining power as Namaag,” Serik explains, staying remarkably composed. “The Sky King is dependent on your aqueducts, so he’s had to respect you, but don’t believe for one second that you’re safe. Once he’s drained Chotgor and Verdenet of people and resources, the Sky Kingwillcome for you.”
“You cannot scare us into aligning with you based on these unfounded, and frankly ridiculous, claims,” Murtaugh says sharply, as if that’s the end of the conversation.
But King Ihsan taps his fingers against the side of his face and paces silently for a moment. “I don’t mean to sound dismissive,” he finally says, “but if your claims are true, do you honestly expect to succeed with an army of ravaged, war-torn people? Greater numbers do not always amount to greater strength.”
I force my lips into a smile, but my face feels as if it’s fracturing into tiny pieces. Because our situation is even grimmer than he knows. “I know we can succeed,” I say, “but only with Namaag’s strength and leadership.”
Murtaugh shakes his head sternly and leans forward to whisper into the king’s ear. Ihsan’s dark brow lowers and the tangle of dread in my gut knots tighter. If he doesn’t agree, we’re finished. Dead at the hands of the Sky King or the Zemyans. It hardly matters which.
