Peony's Blade

Chapter 4

    Grinding her teeth, Serielle threw the parchment on the wooden floor and stomped on it with her foot. Not that it did anything other than crumple the paper since she only had socks on, but it was the most accurate representation of what she wanted to do to Rejin’s face.

    “The nerve!” she growled. “The audacity! Why did I ever believe even for a second that he would give me a proper answer?”

    She glared at the piece of paper, wishing it to catch on fire. At least then, it would be useful.

    Meet me at the Sunsa Bridge at the first lunar phase. Midnight. Alone.

    Not a single word of how to contact the Shadows. Another lie. It seemed lying was a language Rejin was very fluent in. Serielle was a fool to trust him. After what she’d gone through, she should have known better.

    “Seri!” the voice of her brother filtered through her room. “Seri? Are you in there? I’m coming in.”

    Serielle took in a sharp breath, clearing her mind of the haze of rage. If Deru found out what she was up to, she would never even get to start looking for Blade. Her visit to Rejin would be no secret, and she suspected that it was the reason for Deru’s visit in the first place.

    She slid her foot forward, using the momentum to send the incriminating paper under the table. For a moment, the parchment fluttered and brushed against the red silk tablecloth. Then, with a swishing motion, it disappeared under the small gap just as the doors slid open.

    Serielle let out a breath and turned around with her best smile. “Deru, what brings you all the way here? Shouldn’t you be resting? You mustn’t move around so much when you’re still healing.”

    Deru waved his hand the way he always did whenever he was dismissing something he thought was foolish. “Bah. I’m perfectly fine. Gensen is the best physician we have. You don’t need to worry. Nevermind me, sister. I’m here to talk about you.”

    “Me?” Serielle feigned surprise. “Why, what is there about me to talk about?”

    Deru paused, glancing back to ensure the doors were shut, though the thin material of rice paper would do little to soundproof their voices. “I know you went to see Rejin.”

    Serielle hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. After her little “affair” with the general, and the heartbreak he’d caused, Serielle had promised Deru that she would never seek Rejin again. The incident didn’t put a wedge between the boys, but it was only because they never spoke of it to one another. Deru had been furious at one point, but he hadn’t let it ruin his friendship with Rejin. It had hurt Serielle for a time, but she soon realized Deru’s decision was a political one. It wouldn’t have looked good on anyone had their friendship been broken as soon as Rejin was promoted.

    “I thought you never wanted to see him again.” Deru moved past her and spun around a chair to take a seat. In the confines of her room, he allowed himself a lax position, his ankle over his knee, his arm slung over the chair’s back.

    “I didn’t. But, it’s time I move on from it.” Serielle blew out a breath and carefully took a seat on the second chair. “There are more important matters than my foolish, naïve decisions from the past. I refuse to let my petty resentment get in the way when your life is in danger. I went to see him to talk about the Viper that attacked you. There is nothing more to it, brother.”

    “Ah!” A glint of understanding gleamed in his eyes. “I see. The proud Serielle Wei swallowing her rage to ask General Rejin Tal for help? I never thought the day would come!” He let out a loud laugh, and Serielle barely managed to keep her temper in check.

    “Deru, this is serious!” Serielle hated how helpless she sounded. She hated that Deru could bring this side out of her. “You’re the only one I have in the world. I can’t lose you because the other royal children can’t get over their jealousy.”

    Whether it was her words, her tone, or the worry she allowed to line her face, Deru sobered and looked at her with softened eyes. He offered a small smile that was more out of sympathy than humor. Serielle hated it. She hated the way he looked at her like she was still a little girl.

    “This is nothing new, Seri,” Deru said, a twinge of sorrow hiding behind his words. “Paeonia’s children have always been at each other’s throats. It’s our fate, sealed by the king’s blood running through our veins.”

    “But, the assassin…” Serielle held back her tears with great effort. “It’s not safe here, Deru. You almost died. Tuli is gone, and I mourn for him, but…it could have been you.”

    “When has the palace ever been safe for us?” Deru shrugged, resigned to what he already accepted as the truth of his life. “Don’t you remember when you almost died from the poison one of Isa’s maids slipped into your tea? Four. You were only four, and Isa wanted to murder you to give her children a better chance to become the heir. We grew up with hidden daggers pointed at our hearts, assassins among our servants, poison in our food. This is no different, Seri. Only that this particular assassin was hired from outside the palace, not within.”

    “A Viper.” Serielle clenched her hands together, each interlaced finger pressing against her joints. “They hired a Viper. No different, Deru? This is different! They hired someone who was trained for the sole purpose of killing. That is an assassin’s life. To deliver death no matter the method. The ‘assassins’ among our servants can’t even compare when they get caught within a few days of an attempt. They’re not skilled and they have no knowledge about assassinations. All they do is follow orders then die in the place of the peony that paid them. They’re not assassins, Deru, they’re scapegoats!”

    “Mere nuances.” Deru waved that infuriating dismissive hand. “You aren’t getting my point, dear sister. There is nothing you can do to change the tensions between the royal children. There will always be attempts to take someone’s life, and perhaps one day one of us will succeed. Do you really think the royal army will be able to help us? No. Bringing them in will only cause even more chaos and confusion. Who will they choose to fight for, who will they protect? At that point, it’d be a competition of who can offer them the most money, the most benefits, the most promotions. It’ll be a neverending war until the king perishes and passes his mantle down to his chosen heir, and by then, every single one of us would have expended all our share of Paeonia’s treasury.”

    Serielle became quiet. Deru’s words struck her like lightning, each strike sending a buzz of anger, hate, and frustration coursing through her. She wanted to argue, to tell her brother to shut up because he needed to take this more seriously. But, she couldn’t. Deru was right. The battle for the throne would go on until King Siul chose his heir. Even after a coronation…no, once there was a coronation, the crown prince or princess would be the prime target for assassination. The plots would never end, perhaps not even when one of them finally took the throne.

    Serielle had learned of the past kings and queens who ruled Paeonia, of the battle between brothers and sisters, the blood shed for the crown, even among full-blooded siblings. Cut down the king, and his brothers, his sisters would fight for the throne. Ideally, they would kill him before he could bear an heir. It was the reason kings took many wives and queens were uncommon.

    So, yes, bringing in a general and his army to protect Deru would be a terrible idea. Fortunately, that wasn’t what Serielle was planning.

    “I…I understand,” she murmured, hanging her head. “I won’t get the royal army involved, I promise.” It doesn’t mean I won’t get Rejin involved, though. That bastard needs to tell me where I can find Blade.

    “Good.” Deru grinned. “Don’t worry about me, sis. I’ve lived longer than most crown princes do. I know how to protect myself.”

    Serielle let out a small chuckle. “You haven’t even been coronated yet.”

    “Does it matter?” Deru spread his arms in self-importance. “It’s obvious Father will choose me to be his heir. He loved Mother too much to not choose one of us, and I’m older than you.”

    “Yeah…” Serielle paused. It was true that Deru was the most obvious candidate to be the crown prince. It wasn’t only because he was the son of the king’s favourite wife. He was good at the political game, clever even, and his leadership was something to be admired. Deru wasn’t merely a royal brat. He had the necessary skill, temperament, and even the regal handsomeness that was desired in a potential king. The fact that Rejin, Deru’s best friend, was promoted to general was enough proof of the king’s bias.

    So, it was strange that the king hadn’t announced a coronation yet. Perhaps it was to keep his children in suspense, to ensure they didn’t know who the heir would be and immediately kill him. Still, everyone in the palace already knew Deru was one of the top candidates. There wasn’t much of a point in delaying the inevitable as a coronation would only be confirming what was already believed.

    “Well, now that I know you won’t be messing with the royal army,” Deru yawned and stood up, “I’m going to go back to bed. It’s a good thing I have these wounds. It gives me the perfect excuse to stay in bed all day.”

    With a playful wink, he grabbed his stomach and hunched over. He let out an exaggerated groan of pain. Serielle rolled her eyes.

    “Yes, I get it. Go on and rest then. I have better things to do than to coddle you.”

    Grinning, Deru let out another farewell before he limped out of her room. Serielle shook her head. He hadn’t even hurt his leg, she thought with a smile.

    Blade. Serielle’s smile slid off her face. She pulled up the tablecloth and reached for the parchment Rejin had given her. Resisting the urge to tear it apart, she read the ink one more time.

    Meet me at the Sunsa Bridge at the first lunar phase. Midnight. Alone.

    The first lunar phase was only three days away. Serielle briefly contemplated on bailing and going into the city by herself but then thought better of it. She wouldn't even know where to start.

    Fine. She squeezed the paper into her fist, not caring that it would be crinkled. We’ll play it your way, Rejin. Let’s see how well you can play the role of a peony’s little puppy.