I haven't been able to work on my novel lately because baby, so apparently all I get is unedited scenes for Future Lian. Sequel to here. No idea who Lian is? Go here. The inn was in relatively good shape, which made Kite unreasonably suspicious. For a long time, the only establishments that had escaped theft and vandalism were those that owed loyalty to the Empire, so unscarred tabletops and well-fed, calm staff set off alarm bells.
But they were on foreign soil, so none of that applied. He still distrusted it.
At the other end of the room, his Ruler sat negotiating with a pack of foreign merchants. Three of them, lined up on the other side of the table from them, as if the Ruler were somehow on trial.
At least, it had started that way.
“Holy shit,” his second said, leaning in the doorway beside him. “Isn’t that the guy who said he’d set his dogs on you if he caught you here again the last time?”
“Yes.”
They watched in silence for a few moments. Ruler Lian was speaking at some length, making small graceful hand motions to expand on their point. The merchant in question was listening with his chin propped on one hand.
“And here I thought they were for decorative purposes only,” his second said.
Ruler Lian was listening, head inclined attentively underneath the tumble of their dark hair and its floral clasp. They were making notes now. They interjected a few points, that had the foreigners nodding along in agreement.
“If they can get us those grain shipments,” his second said, “That alone will pay for lugging them along all this time.”
Kite grunted in agreement. He watched the table, and the Ruler’s businesslike but elegant figure, and turned thoughts over in his head with great care.
“We will get our supplies,” Ruler Lian said, on their way out of the foreign town. Dust coated the ankles of their robes. “The concessions after the war may be a little steep, but they were generous under the circumstances.”
“I admit I’m surprised,” Kite said frankly.
Ruler Lian smiled, warm and tired and somehow older than it had any right to be. “Do you think the Empire makes itself popular with our neighbours?”
Kite shrugged, conceding the point.
“Do you mind,” he said after a few moments. “If I ask you something… delicate.”
“Go ahead.”
“You didn’t really kill the Empress,” Kite said. “Did you?”
The Ruler stopped walking. Kite turned, to keep their face in view, but he missed whatever expression it had first. Now their eyes searched his face, confused. “What do you mean?”
“We all heard the stories while you were gone,” Kite said. “That while the city burned, you killed the Empress in her palace. But it isn’t true, is it?” He folded his arms. “It’s propaganda, or just a wild rumour that took hold. I’ve seen you these last few weeks, and forgive me for my bluntness, I don’t want this to come across as an insult, but I just can’t picture it.”
Today had brought that home to Kite. He could appreciate what Lian brought to the cause, even admire skills he didn’t possess, but they didn’t include violence and never would.
Ruler Lian was silent.
“And you never talk about it,” Kite pressed. “Whenever somebody brings it up, you change the subject. I’ll be frank: it was part of the reason I agreed to join forces with you. It made me think you were more than just an Elven puppet. Made me think there was something worth salvaging in the old dynasties.”
Ruler Lian’s face reacted then, a disapproving frown that was wiped away quickly.
Kite shook his head. “This is coming across as an accusation. And it isn’t intended to be, exactly, more fool me for buying into stories. But I do want to know why you let the story stand.”
The Ruler looked away. “Because it’s true. I did kill her.”
Kite sucked his teeth. “Now…”
“I don’t like to talk about it,” they interrupted, “because everybody speaks as though it’s something to be honoured. With admiration, as you did. But truthfully I am ashamed.”
Kite recoiled slightly. Surely he was not going to hear… what? A defense of the Empress? An appeal to honour? Surely the Ruler didn’t think they could have negotiated with the tyrant.
Thousands of people following my standard, he wanted to say, and I pledged them to you, partially because you killed our biggest monster. Even if it was symbolic, even if I knew I could take them back at any time, I stood behind you.
“Why,” he managed to say. He had first suspected, and then accepted that they hadn’t done it. But you did and wish you hadn’t?
“Because it wasn’t admirable,” Lian said. Their mouth pressed together, lips thinning. A strand of dark hair fell from the knot at the back of their head, and they didn’t tidy it away. “It wasn’t heroic. It could have doomed us all.”
“The Empress was dead,” Kite said slowly. “People danced for joy the continent over. The chaos of her death is what allowed our army to gain the ground it has, without that we would have nothing now.”
Ruler Lian shook their head, impatient. Their voice, when they spoke again, was low and controlled. “I know that now. But I didn’t when I did it. What if it hadn’t worked out like that? What if there wasn’t a succession crisis, what if her nephew took over immediately and crushed us? I think about it often.” They met Kite’s eyes briefly, and he could see… something. Some shadow of past fear, past pain. “You don’t understand, do you?”
“No,” Kite said frankly.
They sighed. Tentatively, they gestured for Kite to keep walking, and he did so.
They smoothed their sleeves as they walked.
“Being with the Empress,” they said, and had to stop for a moment. “I had to be… so, so careful. Consider every action so thoroughly. Every mistep I made brought death to those around me. But on that night, I didn’t. I acted from blind panic. Through sheerest luck, it turned out well, but I don’t think I deserve any of the credit.”
Ah. “But it worked out well.”
“But it might not have.”
Kite couldn’t help himself. “How did you…”
“She turned her back,” the Ruler said simply. “I suppose she thought, like you, that I could not possibly be a threat. And she spoke of her plans for the city, to kill so many that I could not think for terror, and I hit her from behind. So you see, it wasn’t an act of great combat prowess any more than it was a well-reasoned plan.”
Kite shook his head. “You will drive yourself crazy like that,” he said bluntly. “Fretting yourself to bits on what-ifs. You still think about it? It’s been two years.”
They inclined their head. “Not as much as I once did. But yes.”
“Well… well, stop,” Kite said. “History is made in… in small moments, like that, sometimes. Do you think I knew for certain that I’d win? When I started the arson attacks, that first year of occupation? Do you think we all went into it because we thought our lives were guaranteed?”
The Ruler was silent and thoughtful, as they walked. Doubtless they were running through the reasons it was different for them, but they didn’t say any of it.
“I would rather,” they said, with some difficulty, “Be lauded for my work winning aid from the Elves, and for this campaign. Those feel… like things I have done, rather than luck.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kite said.
He didn’t quite dare to throw his arm around his Ruler, or promise to get them drunk. Which might be for the best; he still felt he barely understood them.