I guess it makes sense. After what we’ve all been through, we’re bound to be leery and angry, but now we have to work together. To be honest, though, I’m not sure we can manage a conversation, let alone start a war.
Sora glances at each of us and purses her lips, her face all resolve. “We have too much to lose to not come together. I understand no one wants to trust anyone again, but I refuse to give up on my sister. I refuse to let Tiyung rot in Idle Prison if he’s even still…”
She trails off and then shakes her head. She gathers a pained breath, her delicate hands running over her dress. My father had Tiyung thrown in Idle Prison, the dungeon under the palace lake. It’s impossible to say if Ty is still alive, and we all know it.
Sora raises her chin. Her hand trembles, and she hides it behind her back. “I refuse to die before I watch Count Seok beg for his life at my feet. I’m not exactly thrilled with you all, but we have to do this. King Joon thinks we are going to steal the ring, but we need to persuade Queen Quilimar to help us lure him out of Qali Palace. We need to kill him and finish the job by putting Euyn on the throne, or we’ll all die and better people than us will suffer.” She stares at each of us, driving home the point. “Our loved ones hang in the balance. If it can’t be trust, let vengeance bind us.”
I study her sincere expression, her determination. It must be exhausting to be Sora, to always be the better person. It’s so much easier to sink to the level of everybody else. But maybe the good naturally rises above like curds and whey.
“How do we know she isn’t still working for Joon?” Euyn vaguely gestures in my direction.
I bite my lip as my stomach twists. I’m now certain they’ve all considered killing me. Before it had just been a theory.
“Because she betrayed him in the end,” Sora says with a shrug. “And he sent her on a suicide mission.”
The urge to defend myself and, to some extent, my father rises inside me, but there’s no denying that he doesn’t care if I live or die. Yes, he promised to acknowledge me and make my mother his posthumous first queen, but promises are cheap to lying lips. He never cared about me, not once in nineteen years. Then again, I wasn’t too concerned with his safety and well-being, either.
A year ago, he swore he’d be the father I deserved, that he’d changed from the ruthless young man he had been. In hindsight, it was foolish to believe him, but I was so broken from losing my mother, so desperate to not be alone anymore, that when he poured honey in my ear, I drank it down. My mother had always said all we needed was Joon’s love, and I thought she was right. Poison can taste like candy when you’re starving. But while traveling to the capital on the mission to bring him these killers, I realized they cared more about me than he ever did. More than he ever will.
But that was all before they found out that I am Joon’s daughter. His only child.
“We need to get an audience with this queen, is that what we’re doing now?” Royo asks. His voice rumbles, and I strain toward the sound.
Mikail runs a hand through his wavy brown hair. “It’s easier said than done. Ever since Wei attempted to assassinate the King of Khitan fifteen years ago, no one has been allowed within a hundred feet of the throne. They call it the Rule of Distance. And we can’t exactly shout our treasonous intentions in front of the Khitanese court. There are always Yusanian diplomats and spies present.”
The deck falls silent other than the waves crashing against our bow and the call of gulls. I twist my now shoulder-length hair into a spiral. The birds signal we’re close to the northern realm of Khitan, and there’s a new wrinkle to an already knotted plan.
Sora taps her chin. “There has to be a way to get closer than one hundred feet. Euyn is her brother. And Aeri is…”
“A princess,” Royo grumbles.
He doesn’t mean it nicely.
“We’re both supposed to be dead,” Euyn says. “And my sister has no love for her bloodline. No one in my family does.” His brown eyes narrow on me even as he turns a little greener from the rough sea.
I let that shot land because he’s not wrong. My father ordered Euyn’s execution, my uncle tried to murder me, and I conspired to assassinate my father. I’ve heard that my aunt tried to kill my father more than once. It’s a bit of a Baejkin family mess. The more power a bloodline has, the more problems.
“Queen Quilimar must have an inner circle of some sort,” Sora urges. “No one can rule alone.”
“A captain of her palace guard, or ladies in waiting. Maybe generals?” I ask.
Mikail eyes me with disdain, and I shift my weight to be ready. This is not great. I might be able to get away from Euyn, especially since he doesn’t have his bow, but Mikail slaughters with a speed I’ve never seen. I have throwing knives hidden in compartments of my cloak, but that’s little comfort. I’d be dead a second after I released one.
I do have the amulet as a last resort. Without thinking about it, I place my hand by the neck of my dress. The Sands of Time of the Dragon Lord lies where it always is, hidden on a necklace under my clothes. I thought about using it to flee before we boarded the ship. I could’ve done it—frozen time again and disappeared. But I had nowhere to go, and more than that, I knew they’d fail without me. I can’t help but love them all. Even if they distinctly don’t care for me now.
“Vikal,” Euyn says, wiping his brow. “She is the general of the Khitanese armed forces. She must have Quilimar’s ear. I recall them being close.”
Mikail wavers. “They are, but if it were as simple as talking to a general, Joon wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of bringing us in. He chose us for this mission for a reason. What unique traits did he mean? What is the catch? We’re missing something crucial, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Everyone turns to me. Royo pretends not to look, but he’s waiting for me to answer. The problem is: I have no idea.
“I really don’t know,” I say. They stare at me with various amounts of belief. “I wish I did. All he told me was that you were dangerous to the throne and he wanted you taken in alive with minimal casualties.”
It’s silent on the prow of this ship, the tension crackling. I wince. “Minimal casualties” was my father’s term, not mine, but it hangs in the air, sounding worse and worse as the seconds pass.
“Well, let’s think about it,” Euyn says. “Sora poisons. I shoot.” He pauses and stares at Mikail. “And you’re a spy. And a liar. And a manipulator. And a traitor.”
Mikail’s lips curl up into a fake smile. He just stares at his lover and slightly raises his eyebrows.
