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“What are you thinking about with that look on your face?” he asked.
I pointed at a charred pillar ahead. “Whether you’re admiring the marks of your rage.”
His gaze followed mine, his jaw tightening. “It wasn’t because of anger.”
“Then why? To punish us? To force us into submission?” My voice cracked as I fought for calm.
“Your grandfather failed in his duty. He ignored Her Majesty’s command. Such defiance could not go unpunished.” He paused, then added, “Only later did I realize he did it to save you.”
“Would it have made a difference? Or would you still have attacked and burned my home?”
His expression was grave. “Buildings can be repaired.”
It struck me then, he hadn’t hurt my people that day. There had been fire and smoke, terror and chaos . . . but no blood spilled. Only Grandfather had been lost—my heart clenched at the thought—and even then, I could not wholly blame the immortals for his death. I used to think the God of War relished bloodshed, that he thrived on it—but now I wasn’t so sure. It didn’t matter; this changed nothing of what he’d done to me.
“It will cost us more than we have to restore it all,” I told him. “We have no magic, no endless source of treasure. Everything here has a price; the gold to fix a roof could have been put toward a new school.”
“I will pay for the repairs,” he said with hesitation. “This was my doing.”
My pride wanted me to refuse, but why should my kingdom suffer? I wouldn’t thank him though; this wasn’t kindness, it was guilt. “You may discuss the reparations with my First Advisor,” I said coldly.
“Stop acting like this.” He moved toward me. “I know you’re angry with me, that you’ve been wronged, that you might even think you hate me—”
“Oh, I do,” I interjected, raising my chin.
Fine creases formed at the corners of his mouth. “You have every right to feel this way, but I hope you will listen with an open mind.”
My eyes narrowed. “If this is your ‘apology,’ it’s wholly inadequate.”
“What do you want of me?”
“Nothing from the God of War. Why should I listen, when you don’t offer the same courtesy?” It was becoming harder to speak, like a vise was tightening around my chest. “You immortals lash out when you feel slighted or wronged, but what of the times you fail us?”
“I do listen; I’m trying. I don’t want us to be at odds.” He held my gaze. “Believe me when I say we want the same things—we just need to figure out how to get them, together.”
I didn’t reply, yet his words resonated. As we entered the dining hall, the courtiers rose, intoning a greeting. Minister Dao was still holding a roasted quail leg but I ignored the disrespect; there was no need to reveal how little regard he had for me. As Chengyin came forward to greet me, his eyes darted to the God of War, widening in shock.
Chengyin recovered swiftly, clasping his hands and bowing. “We are honored by your presence, Great Immortal. If we’d known in advance, we would have prepared a banquet to welcome you.”
He smoothly offered the courtesies that I should have. I kept a meaningless smile on my face to appease those staring at us—even as the thought of holding a banquet to celebrate this wretched immortal choked me like a bone stuck in my throat.
Several small tables were arranged around mine on the dais, all of which were occupied. The nearest available one was halfway down the hall, which suited me well. I gestured toward it as I took my seat. “Why don’t you sit there, Lord Zhangwei? An attendant will bring you the finest—”
He stalked toward me before I’d finished, his teeth clenched as he said, “Your Ladyship is most kind. However, as I came to see you, I will sit by your side.”
“There is no space,” I told him flatly. “Perhaps another time.”
The God of War turned to the man on the other side of me—Minister Guo—who shot to his feet at once. Muttering an unintelligible apology, he scrambled away as though I had the plague. His dining partner, Minister Xiao, also rose and left—followed by a swift vacating of the other occupants on the dais. Soon, only Chengyin remained, his expression decidedly pained.
Lord Zhangwei’s lips slanted into a mirthless smile as he took Minister Guo’s seat. “Your court is most hospitable. There is ample space now.”
“You have a wonderful way with people,” Chengyin remarked in a strained voice. “If only I possessed that skill.”
“The ability to terrify with a single look?” I replied. “You’d need to have done a lot of terrible things to earn a reputation like that.”
Chengyin grinned. “Imagine how useful it would be for us at court.”
“Us?” Lord Zhangwei repeated in a deceptively light tone.
