Ren laughed mirthlessly. “Why would he do that?”
“Because you’re an obstacle in his path, Ren. He must’ve realized you took the seal, and that’s why I was sent to retrieve you. When he discovered you were still alive, though, he decided to come find you himself. This way, he could claim the seal without anyone finding out that you’d had it before him. I know you stole it out of spite, but people might think your father gave it to you, considering how secure the seal usually is. I also know you want to believe it might just be Official Yi plotting this for your brother, but isn’t it more likely that it’s really Prince Liqin who wants to be rid of you?”
Ren raised his knuckles to his lips. After a contemplative silence, he said, “This is all conjecture, Siying. You can’t be certain what Liqin is guilty or not guilty of.”
“That may be true,” I conceded. “But everything I said about your brother is based on things I’ve heard or seen for myself. I’m pleading with you—don’t give him the seal.”
“What do you want me to do with it, then?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair. “Give it to the governor of Wen, as Anshi wants?”
“No. Claim it for yourself. Convince your father to choose you as his heir.”
He stared at his knees. “I’ve told you why I can’t be king.”
“I know. And I think you’re a fool to refuse.”
He winced. “I’m a fool for choosing a simpler life? With a girl whose company I enjoy beyond anyone else’s?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, chest aching at his words. But now was not the time to be selfish. More mildly I said, “This isn’t just about you and me, Ren. This is about Sian and Wen and the people of both states. The man who sits on Sian’s throne will determine all our fates. Do you truly believe your brother is the best person to lead us?”
“I…” He clasped the back of his neck with both hands, his mouth twisted in a grimace. “I think so. My brother is a good man. He’s never shown me otherwise.”
I frowned. In an ideal world, Liqin would indeed be a suitable heir with the right heart and mindset. If that were the case, Ren would be free to live how he wanted without worrying that his brother would lead the nation astray. He could be free to do what he—or I, or we—wished.
But the world wasn’t that simple, and Ren was the only one able to rightfully take the throne. With the seal in his hands, what happened to the nation was his responsibility.
“What you’re shown isn’t always true,” I said. “I sympathize with your hesitation. I do. But you’ve told me twice that you trust me. I need you to trust me now.”
“That isn’t fair,” he said, giving me a pained look. “Why must I choose between trusting you and my brother?”
Because only one of us wants you alive, I thought. But saying it aloud would just provoke him, maybe even turn him against me. And, truthfully, it’d break his heart. So instead I said quickly, “At least test your brother before you decide to give him the seal. Ask him about the things I mentioned. Ask for his honesty, and then determine whether you find him trustworthy or not. Could you do that for me? Please?”
For a moment, I thought he’d continue to resist. He looked at me with such hurt. But we were equally stubborn, and I knew that he knew it. Should he refuse, I’d only continue to press. And this time, I wouldn’t back down.
After a prolonged silence, he sighed and begrudgingly said, “I’ll talk to him. But if you’re wrong, Siying, you must accept my decision.”
Ren insisted on meeting with Liqin alone, so I suggested they use the study. As a precaution, I asked Anshi to linger in the corridor should anything happen. The governor’s assistant was all too willing to comply.
I felt simultaneously comforted and unsettled by Anshi’s presence. Sometimes it really seemed as if we were allies; other times, I remembered I couldn’t trust her too much.
While the brothers talked, I was able, at last, to hurry to the kitchen, where my family waited.
A kettle sat on the stove, its contents heating. Lilan stood by the counter, pulling tea leaves from a jar. Baba sat at the table where we usually ate breakfast, reading a collection of poems. He looked up when I entered, the sight of his face causing my heart to squeeze.
“Daughter,” he greeted, his voice thinner than I remembered. “Your sister told me you returned. Why didn’t you come to greet me earlier?”
“I had some business to take care of,” I said apologetically, dropping into the chair beside him and clasping his hand. It was warmer and more solid than in my dreams. “How are you feeling, Baba?”
He looked much scrawnier than I would’ve liked, his gray robe hanging too loosely over his drooping shoulders. There was more white than black in his hair, and his smile was only as bright as a clouded sun.
“Strong enough,” he said, making a show of patting his bicep. He glanced down at my splinted wrist and frowned. “But what happened to you, daughter? Are you hurt?”
I pulled back my arm and slid it under the table, on my lap. “Just twisted it a bit, but it’s recovering. I’m more concerned about you.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m recovering too.”
I studied the shadows beneath his eyes, not believing a single word. “The job is nearly done, Baba. Just some final strings to tie up. Once everything is over and I’m paid, I’ll take you to the capital and find you the best physician there is.”
“You needn’t do that. I’m fine.”
