The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2) - R. F. Kuang Page 0,218

was crucial for decorum. He wanted to put on a show for the Hesperians. A display of Nikara gratitude and etiquette. Proof they were civilized.

Rin was so tired of having to prove her humanity.

The robe was quickly wearing down her patience. The damned thing was hot, stifling, and so tight it restricted her mobility in ways that made her breathing quicken. Putting it on required so many moving pieces she was tempted to throw the whole pile in the corner and set it on fire.

Venka made a noise of disgust as she watched Rin fasten the sash around her waist with a quick sailor’s knot. “That looks horrendous.”

“It’s going to come undone otherwise.”

“There’s more than one way to tie a knot. And that’s far too loose besides. You look like you’ve been caught getting frisky with a courtier.”

Rin pulled at the sash until it pressed into her ribs. “Like this?”

“Tighter.”

“But I can’t breathe.”

“That’s the point. Stop only when it feels like your ribs are going to crack.”

“I think my ribs have cracked. Twice over now.”

“Then a third time can’t do much more damage.” Venka took the sash out of Rin’s hands and began retying the knot herself. “You are incredible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How did you come this far without learning any feminine wiles?”

That was such an absurd phrase that Rin snorted into her sleeve. “We’re soldiers. Where did you learn feminine wiles?”

“I’m aristocracy. My whole life my parents were determined to get me married to some minister.” Venka smirked. “They were a little miffed when I joined the military instead.”

“They didn’t want you at Sinegard?” Rin asked.

“No, they hated the idea. But I insisted on it. I wanted glory and attention. Wanted them to write stories about me. Look how that turned out.” Venka yanked the knot tight. “You have a visitor, by the way.”

Rin turned around.

Nezha stood in the doorway, hands dangling awkwardly by his sides. He cleared his throat. “Hello.”

Venka patted Rin’s shoulder. “Have fun.”

“That’s a pretty knot,” Nezha said.

Venka winked as she flounced past him. “Even prettier on the wearer.”

The creak as the door swung shut might have been the loudest noise Rin had ever heard.

Nezha crossed the room to stand beside her in front of the mirror. They looked at each other in the glass. She was struck by the imbalance between them—how much taller he was, how pale his skin looked next to hers, how elegant and natural he looked in ceremonial garb.

She looked ridiculous. He looked like he belonged.

“You look good,” he said.

She snorted. “Don’t lie to my face.”

“I would never lie to you.”

The following silence felt oppressive.

It seemed obvious what they should be talking about, but she didn’t know how to raise the subject. She never knew how to bring things up around him. He was so unpredictable, warm one minute and cold to her the next. She never knew where she stood with him; never knew if she could trust him, and that was so damn frustrating because aside from Kitay he was the one person whom she wanted to tell everything.

“How do you feel?” she finally asked.

“I’ll live,” he said lightly.

She waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

She was terrified to say anything more. She knew a chasm had opened between them, she just didn’t know how to close it.

“Thank you,” she tried.

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“You didn’t have to save me,” she said. “You didn’t have to . . . do what you did.”

“Yes, I did.” She couldn’t tell if the lightness in his tone was forced or not. “How would it go over if I let our Speerly die?”

“It hurt you,” she said. And I had you smoke enough opium to kill a calf. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “We’re fine.”

But they weren’t fine. Something had shattered between them, and she was sure that it was her own fault. She just didn’t know how to make it right.

“Okay.” She broke the silence. She couldn’t stand this anymore; she needed to flee. “I’m going to go find—”

“Did you see her die?” Nezha asked abruptly, startling her.

“Who?”

“Daji. We never found a body.”

“I gave your father my report,” she said. She’d told Vaisra and Eriden that Daji was dead, drowned, sunk at the bottom of the Murui.

“I know what you told him. Now I want you to tell me the truth.”

“That’s the truth.”

Nezha’s voice hardened. “Don’t lie to me.”

She crossed her arms. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Because they haven’t found a body.”

“I was trapped under a fucking