I finally sit down on the carved wooden bench outside the court meeting
chambers, I’m exhausted.
Isra insisted on seeing every part of the Banished camp—the
shelters, the feeding troughs, the burial pit, even the trench filled with their
bodily waste. It was … unspeakably repulsive.
The other soldiers stayed at the perimeter with the guards charged
with keeping the Banished contained in their corner of Yuan, but I was
forced to walk among them. I couldn’t leave Isra’s side for a moment, not if
I want to be seen as her equal, and, someday soon, her better.
Today’s insanity shouldn’t make
all of them out of what’s left of their minds?
Even Isra learned that quickly enough. By the time the fourth or fifth
Banished ran, screaming nonsense when she tried to approach, she learned
to keep her distance. Still, she refused to leave right away. She stayed and
asked questions about their treatment, their feeding schedule, their living
arrangements, and, finally, why the Banished weren’t allowed into the city
center with the rest of the people, since many of them seemed less
damaged, physically anyway, than the people she’d seen there.
I was shocked that she needed an explanation.
It’s obvious to anyone with eyes—even new eyes—that the Banished
display Monstrous traits. They have patches of scales and huge teeth and
hands with pieces of claws exposed outside their skin. They creep and crawl
and cower like the beasts they are. They run from any whole citizen in fear,
sensing, I suppose, in some part of their wretched brains, that we are their
enemies. That
“Other cities smother them at birth. Or put them outside the gates to
starve. Or worse. We are the gentlest of the domed cities, Isra. We always
have been.”
Isra went pale at that, as if she couldn’t imagine anything more
terrible. She’s spent too much time with that creature. It’s more clever than
most—it speaks our words and plays at being like us—but the beast is feral
beneath the facade. It plots the downfall of our city. I can sense it. I saw it
in his face last night on Isra’s balcony. He wanted nothing more than to kill
me, the way his people have killed mine for centuries, though I have done
nothing but treat him with a civility a prisoner scarcely deserves.
But he’ll be taken care of soon enough. I spoke with Father before
Isra went into his meeting chamber to discuss her tour of the city. He
agreed the Monstrous would have to be disposed of as soon as I am made
king of Yuan. The safety he affords isn’t worth the risk he poses. The entire
court has been on edge since the day Isra insisted on working with the
creature. He hasn’t hurt her yet, but we’d be fools to think he isn’t planning
to. We’ll kill him before he gets the chance and deal with the—
“Yes, I agree.” Isra’s voice drifts from the shade of the arbor covering
the front entrance to the court offices. In the spring, purple flowers will
hang down far enough to tickle the top of her hair as she walks beneath.
Bees will hum and the air will be warm and sweet and we will be married.
And I will have the power to tell her to go to her tower and stay there
if she refuses to listen to reason.
The thought makes it easier to smile as she emerges into the watery
afternoon light, followed closely by my father. He’s dressed in his faded
amber advisor’s robe, the one with the slightly frayed sleeves worn by
three generations of chief advisors to the royals of Yuan. The robe softens
his rough edges, makes him seem more approachable than his soldier’s
uniform.
I’m sure the choice of clothing is no coincidence. He wanted Isra to
feel comfortable with him today, to feel confident that he was listening to
her concerns and opinions.
“I’ll start organizing the documents at once,” Father says, stopping
less than a foot away, but not cutting his eyes in my direction. He tilts his
head back to look Isra full in the face, as if he has never found anyone more
enrapturing. “I’ll send them to the tower for your review as soon as they’re
finished.”
“And when will that be?” Isra asks, fingers twirling absent-mindedly
at her sides the way they have all day. I grit my teeth and force my eyes
away from her fidgeting. It’s enough to drive me mad. If I’d fidgeted like
that as a child, my father would have bound my hands in cotton. “I want to
start the process as soon as possible. Things can’t continue as they have.”
“Certainly not.” Father nods, but I see his eyebrows draw tightly
together. “I’ll have the first drafts of the amendments to the code drawn by
late tomorrow. The next day at the latest.”
“That isn’t soon enough.” Isra’s fingers move even faster, tracing an
elaborate, repeating pattern I can’t begin to sort out. “I need them sooner.
At least the amendment related to the treatment of the Banished. I’d like
to see a draft of that tonight.”
“Tonight it is, then.” Father’s forehead smoothes, and the hint of a
smile gentles his lips. He looks as pleasant as he ever does—even more so,
actually—but I’m not fooled. “I’ll work through dinner and have the
amendment delivered to you in the great hall as soon as I’m finished. The
texts you requested on the covenant should already be waiting in your
rooms. I ordered them sent before we sat down to chat.”
“Thank you.” Isra’s breath rushes out, and her fingers finally still.
“But have the amendment sent to my rooms as well, please. I won’t eat in
the hall tonight. I need some time. Alone. It’s been quite a day.”
“Indeed.” Father smiles. “I’ve never discussed this many
amendments to our code of law in the course of a year, let alone one
afternoon.”
Isra bites her lip and shoots Father a wary look from beneath her
long lashes. “I know this must seem strange, but I’m certain this is right,
and the only way to move forward. I think Baba … what he did … giving me
the herbs for all those years …”
“Your baba loved you very much,” Father says, apparently not
minding if Isra uses childish words. “Never doubt that.”
“I know. I believe he did,” she whispers in a trembling voice, but
when she lifts her chin, her expression is calm, strong. “I was shocked, at
first, but I think the choice Father made was for the best. He gave me fresh
eyes. He allowed me to see Yuan and our people in a way those who have
lived in the midst of this … confusion no longer can. Being an outsider, and
ignorant of many things, has allowed me to see where our city has gone
astray.”
Father inclines his head in a gesture so subservient, it makes my jaw
drop. “An interesting and wise perspective.”
Isra glances my way, and I hurry to return her hopeful smile. “Thank
you,” she says, turning back to Father. “I’m glad we could come to an
agreement, and I’m grateful for your support. I know the other advisors will
find the changes easier if you’re there by my side when I announce them.”
“Certainly,” Father says. “Change, even drastic change, can
sometimes be the only way to move forward.”
Isra’s smile is … dazzling, and for a moment I remember why I wanted
to marry her. She’s lovely in her happiness. So lovely it makes me ill to
know this moment isn’t what she thinks it is. I know my father hasn’t been
won over so easily. I
says, “Bo, would you join me in my chamber? I have some business I’d like
you to attend to while I draft the amendments Isra and I discussed.” He
shifts his attention to Isra with another kindly smile. “If that’s acceptable,
my lady? If you’d rather Bo escort you back to your rooms first, then—”
“No, no, don’t worry about me,” Isra says, her smile still lighting her
face. “I have my guards, and Needle is waiting for me.” She watches with a
satisfied expression as Father and I bow. “Until later.”
And then she turns and glides away, the confidence in her new walk
making her seem like a different person from the girl who scurried across
the field to her tower rooms a week ago. I watch her greet her guards, with
a hint of guilt worming its way into my heart. I told myself I didn’t care
about the queen anymore, but I can’t help but feel bad for her, to fear for
her.
She’s barely out of sight when my fears are confirmed.
“We’ll have the wedding tomorrow,” Father whispers. “Prepare
yourself. It might be an unpleasant ceremony.”
“But her period of mourning isn’t over.” Mourning rituals are strictly
observed in our city. It’s bad luck to go against them, such bad luck that the
advisors decided it was better to leave Isra unmarried for several months
rather than go against the grieving customs.
“I know, and it may bring dark days to Yuan to have her married
while still wearing green, but there’s no help for it. The girl is out of her
mind.” Father waves a weary hand through the air. “The other advisors
were listening in on my conversation with Isra. They sent this just before
the conclusion of our meeting.” He hands me a note on parchment paper,
written in the unmistakable cramped, slanted hand of Tai, the late king’s
oldest advisor and the man second in power only to my father.
.
“They think she’s mad?” I ask, shocked, though I shouldn’t be. I’ve
had similar thoughts all day, but when the word “insane” flitted through my
head, I didn’t mean it. Not really. Isra is odd and stubborn and strange, no
doubt, but she’s not out of her mind. At least not in a dangerous way. “But,
Father, I don’t—”
“You should have heard her, Son,” Father says with a sigh, plucking
the parchment from my fingers. “She wants to put an end to the Banished
camp and bring those pitiful creatures into the city center to live with our
people.”
I lean in, certain I’ve heard him wrong. “But she saw them. They’re
animals. They barely speak our language, they lack the sense to keep their
waste in the assigned trench, and ran from us every—”
“She thinks they’re afraid.” Father sighs again before shuffling over
to the bench and easing himself down. He looks older than he ever has
before, as if the meeting with Isra has aged him ten years. More. “She saw
bruises on their bodies. She thinks the guards beat them, and that’s why
they run from whole citizens.”
“They beat them because they attack each other,” I say, pacing in
front of the bench. “They’d tear each other apart if the guards didn’t keep
them in line.”
Father lifts his hands in the air. “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t
listen to reason. She thinks the Banished could learn to speak our language
and behave properly if they received different treatment.”
“She’s stubborn.” I curse myself for not making the facts clearer to
her. I’m willing to go against her wishes once we’re married, but I wanted
our marriage to be her decision. I know Isra well enough now to realize that
marriage to her won’t be pleasant if she’s forced into it. “Let me talk to her.
Maybe I can convince her to change her mind.”
“It isn’t only the Banished,” Father says. “She wants to improve
conditions for the commoners in the city center as well. She wants to build
more housing and provide nurses for those with the worst deformities and
no family to care for them.”
Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Where will we get the resources to build?
We can’t cut down trees. We need them to refresh the air.”
Father shakes his head. “She thinks we should tear down the king’s
cottage and a number of the other noble cottages and use those
materials.”
“What?” I laugh. The idea is ridiculous. “And where would the nobles
without homes live? In the barns with their horses?”
“She thinks the noble families can learn to be comfortable sharing a
home with another family.”
“She what? She’s out—” I almost say “out of her mind,” but bite my
tongue at the last moment. “She doesn’t understand. She’s been kept
separate from our people. She doesn’t know how things work or that no
one is bothered by it but her. At least give me one day to make her see
reason.”
Father’s head stays down when his eyes lift, emphasizing the brown
shadows beneath his eyes. He’s exhausted, and I can’t help but feel
responsible. If I hadn’t told Isra to stop drinking her tea, all of this could
have been avoided. “She also wants to send food into the desert,” Father
says. “To the Monstrous tribes.”
It’s as if he’s struck me. “She … she doesn’t. She can’t.”
“She says she’ll send the Monstrous boy with a wagon. She believes
he’ll come back if he’s released.”
Exhaustion settles in my bones, and I wish Father would ask me to sit
beside him. There’s no hope, then. Isra might not be mad, but she’s
wandered too far outside the realm of what even
prepared for this from the beginning. Your mother and I will help you
through the ceremony, and everything that comes after.”
“What do you mean?”
“She can’t be allowed her freedom,” he says, regret clear in his eyes.
“She’s a danger to herself and to the people. To the city itself. We’ll have to
keep her contained in the tower.”
I nod, but my stomach roils inside me. I threatened to lock her away
myself, but I didn’t really mean it. I don’t want my wife to be a prisoner. If
only Isra could see reason. If only she could be less … Isra.
“It won’t be too terrible for her,” Father says, as if sensing how much
I loathe the idea. “She’s spent most of her life there. She’ll have her
entertainments and her maid as her companion, and you may visit her
anytime you wish.”
“She won’t want me to visit her. She’ll hate me.”
“No, she’ll hate me.” Father grips my shoulder. “Let me bear this
burden. I’ll make it clear this is my decision, not yours.”
“No, it’s my fault. All of it. If I hadn’t told her—”
“If you hadn’t given her sight, we would have had more time,” Father
says. “But the end would have been the same. I knew that, Bo. I knew it the