She couldn’t understand why the riverways were so calm, so silent. Why weren’t arrows flying through the air? Why weren’t they being pursued by Imperial vessels? Perhaps the Militia lay in wait at the gates at the province’s edge. Perhaps they were sailing straight toward a trap.
But the gates were open, and no ships came chasing after them in the darkness.
“Who would they send?” Nezha asked. “They don’t have a navy at the Autumn Palace.”
“And no one in any of the provinces has one?”
“Ah.” Nezha smiled. Why was he smiling? “You don’t understand. We’re not going back the same way. We’re headed out to sea this time. Tsolin’s ships patrol the Nariin coast.”
“And Tsolin won’t interfere?”
“No. Father’s made him choose. He’s not going to choose the Empire.”
She couldn’t understand his logic. “Because . . . ?”
“Because now there’s going to be a war, whether Tsolin likes it or not. And he’s not putting his money against Vaisra. So he’ll let us through unharmed, and I’ll bet that he’ll be at our council table in under a month.”
Rin was frankly amazed by the confidence with which the House of Yin seemed to manipulate people. “That’s assuming he gets out of Lusan.”
“If he hasn’t made contingency plans for this I’ll be shocked.”
“Did you ask if he had?”
Nezha chuckled. “It’s Tsolin. Asking would be an insult.”
“Or, you know, a decent precaution.”
“Oh, we’re about to fight a civil war. You’ll have plenty of chances to take precautions.” His tone sounded ridiculously cavalier.
“You really think we can win this?” she asked.
“We’ll be all right.”
“How do you know?”
He grinned sideways at her. “Because we’ve got the best navy in the Empire. Because we have the most brilliant strategist Sinegard has ever seen. And because we’ve got you.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m serious. You know you’re a military asset worth your weight in silver, and if Kitay’s on strategy, then that gives us excellent chances.”
“Is Kitay—”
“He’s fine. He’s belowdecks. He’s been chatting with the admirals; Father gave him full access to our intelligence files, and he’s getting caught up.”
“I guess he came around pretty quickly, then.”
“We thought he might.” Nezha’s tone confirmed what she already suspected.
“You knew his father was dead.”
He didn’t bother denying it. “Father told me weeks ago. He said not to tell Kitay. Not until we’d reached Lusan, anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because it would mean more if it didn’t come from us. Because it would feel less to him like manipulation.”
“So you let him think his father was alive for weeks?”
“We’re not the ones who killed him, were we?” Nezha didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Look, Rin. My father is very good at cultivating talent. He knows people. He knows how to pull their strings. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about them.”
“But I don’t want to be lied to,” she said.
He squeezed her hand. “I would never lie to you.”
Rin wanted desperately to believe that.
“Excuse me,” said Captain Eriden.
They turned around.
For once, Eriden did not look immaculately groomed, was not standing at perfect attention. The captain was wan and diminished, shoulders slouching, lines of worry etched across his face. He dipped his head toward them. “The Dragon Warlord would like to see you.”
“I’ll go right now,” Nezha said.
“Not you,” said Eriden. He nodded to Rin. “Just her.”
Rin was surprised to find Vaisra sitting upright behind the table, wearing a fresh military uniform free of blood. When he breathed, he winced, but only slightly; otherwise he looked as if he had never been injured.
“They told me you dragged me out of the palace,” he said.
She sat down across from him. “My men helped.”
“And why would you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she said frankly. She was still trying to figure that out herself. She might have left him in the throne room. Alone, the Cike would have a better chance at survival—they didn’t need to ally themselves with a province that had declared open war on the Empire.
But then what? Where did they go from here?
“Why are you still with us?” Vaisra asked. “We failed. And I thought you weren’t interested in being a foot soldier.”
“Why does it matter? Do you want me to leave?”
“I would prefer to know why people serve in my army. Some do it for silver. Some do it for the sheer thrill of battle. I don’t think you are here for either.”
He was right. But she didn’t know how to answer. How could she explain to him why she’d stayed when she couldn’t articulate it to herself?