Descendant of the Crane(15)

He placed the stone on the board beside a white one. “Some say it’s the work of sooths.”

“Jing…”

“What? Don’t believe me?”

Hesina lowered her gaze to the game board in case Sanjing saw her skepticism. Yes, the sooths were hated for their Sight. In the relic era, it’d enabled them to rat out countless individuals who harbored the mere thought of rebelling.

But what kept the hatred flowing, from mouth to mouth, generation to generation, was the rumor that the sooths could perform magic. The specifics of what and how were lost to time. The handful of sooths caught in the centuries since the purge certainly didn’t have magic. If they did, wouldn’t they have saved themselves from death by a thousand cuts?

Now her brother expected her to believe that sooths were responsible for the disappearance of an entire village. That magic was real. Not only that, he expected her believe that sooths were aiding Kendi’a. If he said this kind of thing on the streets, then Yan would descend into chaos. The people might just believe in the assassination of the king without Hesina’s help.

Something clicked into place, and comprehension unlocked like a door. “I see how it is.” She lifted her eyes from the game board and let them rest on her brother’s. “Your scare tactics won’t work on me. No matter what you say, I’m not sacrificing justice for Father.”

“The sooths—”

“—aren’t making the villages disappear. When was the last time you encountered a sooth?” Days ago, for Hesina, but that didn’t diminish her point. “When was the last time anyone encountered one with power stronger than the Sight? There are no magic-wielding sooths, Jing. Not after the purge. There are sandstorms, and there is your undying paranoia.”

“You think I fear for myself? You—” Her brother bit back his words. His knuckles whitened around the pommel of his liuyedao. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re delusional.” One of them had to be.

“Yes.” Her brother let out a humorless laugh. “It seems that I am. So what’s the secret to making you listen? Should I spout passages from the Tenets?”

Tenets? Hesina blinked. Where had that come from?

“Anyway, congratulations,” Sanjing said without much cheer. He turned to the moon gate to go, then stopped. “I’m sure you won’t miss me at your coronation, but on the off chance you do, Mei will attend in my place.”

“She’s not going with you?”

“She has better things to do, like watching over a certain inexperienced queen from the shadows.”

“I don’t need her,” said Hesina, partly out of spite, and partly because she knew what Commander Mei meant to her brother, who had plenty of admirers but not many friends. It was the one thing they had in common. “I have guards. I have…”

“Who?” her brother scoffed. “Your manservant?”

“It’s been ten years, Jing.” Ten years since their father had adopted the twins, ten years of enduring Sanjing’s jealousy. He accused her of replacing him with Caiyan. She accused him of being petty. But the closer she grew to Caiyan, the further she grew from Sanjing, and Hesina had to wonder—was everyone’s heart like her mother’s? Was love a resource to be split, sometimes unequally?

She sat on the table’s matching ivory stool and rested her sword over her lap. They’d moved from the war to Caiyan, from one argument to another. But at least she was used to this fight.

“Caiyan’s been nothing but civil toward you.” Especially after what Sanjing had done to him that winter day on the lake. “You don’t have to like him, Jing. But you can accept him.”

“I can’t accept a person I don’t trust.”

“Give me one good reason why you don’t trust him.”

“He’s a bad influence.” His jaw tensed as Hesina snorted. Bad influence and Caiyan. She’d never thought she would hear those words together. “It’s because of him that you…”

“I what?”

“Forget it.”

“What were you going to say?”

Sanjing looked away. “You went to the red-light district.”

The sword slipped off Hesina’s lap. Without realizing it, she’d risen from the stool. “You’re spying on me.”

It wasn’t a question.

First the comment about the Tenets. Now this.

For a second, she thought her brother would deny it.

He didn’t. “Only because you refuse to tell me anything.”

“Well, no wonder. Why would I confide in a little boy who can’t mind his own business?”

The words worked. Her brother whipped around and strode away, so fast that Hesina couldn’t even catch the expression on his face.

Good. She collapsed back onto the stool and let out a damp exhale. All the emotions she’d been holding back trickled out: Vexation—how dare he spy on her? Relief—he didn’t know the worst of what she’d done. And finally, defeat—he’d never know that she kept him in the dark for his own good. Instead he’d head straight for the stables and ride out hard. He’d think she didn’t care, without giving her the chance to prove him wrong.

Hesina rose. She lifted her sword and went through the sequence again, practicing until blisters bubbled on her palms, the skin wounds distracting from the pain inside.