Something swirled in Lei’s eyes. The light of the lanterns that hung from the posts holding up the stretched tarp of the camp turned them even more golden and molten—as well as her tears.
Nitta smacked her lips. “Well,” she announced, spinning into motion with a push of her hands, “time for my post-dessert nap.”
“It’s nighttime,” Wren said.
Nitta beamed. “Naps that become full-on sleeps are the best kind. Better squeeze one in if it’s to be one of my last, hey?”
Though her tone was teasing, the air turned heavy when she left.
“Her back is broken,” Lei said dully.
Wren felt a guilty stab. “The battle at Jana,” she said, though Lei knew that already.
She could feel anger pulsing off Lei, full, dark waves of it. She’d been poised for it, but it still felt too soon. She wanted to live in her joy a little longer. They were together again. It was all she’d been waiting for.
Almost all.
In the distance, the palace loomed.
“She seems good, though,” Lei went on. “Better than good, even. She’s been telling me about the upgrades she’s bugging Lova to make to Battlechair, and how Tien has been terrorizing your cooks and pretty much anyone else who dares cross her path when she’s in a mood. Even your father.” Her smile faltered. “I always admired that about Nitta. Terrible things happen, and she can keep smiling, even if it’s agony.”
Wren was quiet. “Isn’t that something we all learn, through grief and suffering?”
Their fingers found each other at their sides, and wound together, tight.
“I wish I was better at it,” Lei whispered.
A current of pain shot through Wren that had nothing to do with her injuries or exhaustion. “I wish it wasn’t something you ever had to learn in the first place. Lei, I can’t tell you how sorry I am you had to go back there—”
“No,” Lei cut in. “I—I can’t. Not yet.”
“Of course. Only if and when you’re ready.”
Something hard pressed into Wren’s forearm where she was holding Lei’s hand: a golden band. It circled Lei’s wrist, sleek and smooth. The trace of magic buzzed from its metal.
Wren had noticed it back in the Bamboo Forest. She’d not failed to spot a similar one around Aoki’s wrist, though Aoki’s had been bound far tighter—so much so it had crushed bone. When Wren healed Aoki earlier she’d tried to sense if there was anything to save, but the damaged tissue was too far gone. What had happened in those months back in the palace?
Wren was almost glad Lei wasn’t ready yet to tell her about her time there. If she knew the details of what the King and his court had done, she didn’t think she could stop herself from charging over there right now and hunting down every demon who’d dared harm a hair on Lei’s head.
“None of it’s important now, anyway,” Lei went on tiredly. “Not to the war. And we got out just before… before the worst could happen.” Her eyes slid sideways, and though they were as lovely and emotive as they’d always been, they were harder. As though some of their softness had been replaced by weathered stone. “But you and Ketai, and all the rest of it… Nitta’s filled me in on some things, but I know there’s more.”
She paused, and Wren knew what was coming.
“Tell me everything,” Lei said. “Everything that happened since Jana.”
And so, Wren did.
It took a long time. She didn’t leave a single important point out. Lei listened intently. Though her hand was rigid in Wren’s, sometimes flinching in silent anger or shock, she didn’t interrupt. She simply held space for Wren to speak.
Her restraint surprised Wren. Once, Lei would have pressed her for further details. Demanded why Wren had given in to her father so easily when he refused to allow her to rescue her from the palace, or burst with indignation at what Wren suspected Ketai had planned for the Hanno shamans. Then again, Lei used to have to push her for more. Tonight, however, her words kept private from the rest of the camp as clan members bustled in the background, Wren spoke freely.
You’re making this so hard for me. Do you know that?
That’s how it had felt once, when she’d first opened up to Lei. Now, what Wren felt more than anything as she talked was relief.
An hour slipped by. Wren’s fingers grew numb where they were scooped with Lei’s, her body sinking with exhaustion. But neither of them moved.
“Ketai will be pleased to know we escaped without your intervention, then,” Lei said when Wren’s story came to a close. “That your plans for the siege haven’t been compromised.”
Wren hesitated. “Unless Lady Dunya brought him the information when they abandoned us at Marazi. Gods know I wouldn’t blame her for it.”
“I don’t think she did. It would’ve been pretty hard to miss their arrival, and I’m sure the King would have gloated to me about it.” Lei’s tone was rueful. “When your father arrives tomorrow, I’ll be his Moonchosen again, won’t I?”
A dark beat knotted Wren’s stomach. “Lei,” she began, “whatever he asks of you—”
She was cut off by running steps.
The two of them were on their feet before Blue ran into view. The bags under her eyes were deep, her hair mussed on one side as if she’d slept awkwardly. But her typically stony eyes glinted with something Wren hadn’t seen in them before. It was almost warmth.
“Nine,” she said. “Aoki’s awake.”
Lei jolted forward, only to stop, turning stiffly back to Wren.
Blue’s eyes flicked suspiciously between them. “What’s wrong?”
“Go ahead,” Lei told her. “I’ll be right there.”
Blue folded her arms. She was thinner than the last time Wren had seen her but just as tough, every harsh edge and line more pronounced, as though she’d been honing herself like a weapon. “I am not your captive maid anymore, Queen Nine,” she shot, and Wren’s mind spun on the words. Captive? Maid? “Anyway, it was you who asked me to get you when Aoki woke.”
Lei sighed. “We just need a moment, Blue. Please.”
Blue threw them an affronted look. “Fine.” Before she left, she jutted her chin in Wren’s direction. “That ridiculous lion demon is looking for you.” Then she spun on her heels, stomping back in the direction she came from.
“Aoki doesn’t know about her family,” Lei said as soon as Blue was out of earshot. “And now isn’t the time to tell her. She needs all her energy.”
Guilt twisted beneath Wren’s ribs. “Lei, I am so sorry—”
“But she’ll have to know eventually,” Lei continued, “and I think you should be the one to tell her.” Her lips quirked, wetness shimmering in her eyes. “Something to look forward to, after all this is over?”
Her mouth twisted. Wren wanted nothing more than to bundle her in her arms and tell her how, if they were lucky enough to survive what was coming, she would prove to Lei for the rest of their lives just how sorry she was.
“I was wrong earlier,” Lei added. “When I said I didn’t have any important news for you from the palace. I can’t believe I almost forgot. I… I met the Demon Queen.”