The Cadrian diplomat hadn’t revealed them to the rebels. Not yet, at least. Liao wondered why the woman didn’t give them away to the army just a few hundred paces away from them. The imperial square was filled with line after line of soldiers bearing the different colors of the other provinces. Just moments before it felt like needles were puncturing throughout his body, now just a dull throbbing. Whatever he’d drunk, the black brew, it seemed to be eating him from inside.

There was no fire, no musket volleys or even anyone fighting. No sign that fulfilled his vision – only a still silence that suffocated Liao’s ears and threatened to crush his mind.

The tall lanky woman who had given him her armor joined them outside. Her gray eyes questioned and condemned him. Liao didn’t meet her glare. How could he, knowing he was the one responsible if they were found? His family had helped save him. His sister, the Oracle, Captain Huli, his mother. Now this woman was risking her life to aid him. Never did he feel so helpless, that’s all he was. The people who had helped him would soon face its consequences.

A flood of dizziness overcame him, taking a step back. Renshu caught his arm, pulling him up. Liao regained his composure, standing straight and still with the other guards. The Cadrian woman appeared, watching.

A section of soldiers moved towards the gates; Liao counted ten. They faced them in a single line. One man at its center was the officer, recognized by his pointed helmet draped with turquoise tresses. He kept a cheerful smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes.

“Pleasant sun.”

“Pleasant skies,” the diplomat answered in greeting. “What brings you here?”

“The chancellors wish to speak with you, envoy of Cadria. We will escort you—alone.”

“What of my guard?”

“Do with them as you see fit. But they cannot come with you.”

“I represent Cadria. Who represents Qeita?”

“The United Republic, taitei,” the officer said in formal title. “The viceroys wish to maintain relations with your Empire.”

The Cadrian woman smiled. “I will go, and I will listen. That’s all I can promise. You will see to it my guards are free to return to their homes without any disturbance.”

“We do not jail you, taitei. We have come here to free this city.”

Freeing the city, killing anyone who tried to stop them, Liao thought; killing anyone still loyal to the Dynasty.

“I have no doubt,” the woman said. “Open the gates.”

Liao stood with the other guards until the sun fell and the sky dimmed. The people’s army had scattered to the outer districts. True to the officer’s word, they’d left the embassy alone. Throbbing pain lingered in and out of his body, seeking to overwhelm him. His legs wobbled with fatigue. In this weakened state he was defenseless as a newborn. An infant could at least wail and scream. Liao didn’t feel the necessary strength to do either.

A wagon pulled by two oxen stopped outside the gates, heralded by their hosts of flies. Some of the guards lined behind the wagon, Liao and Renshu following. The monk pulled Liao up. The sullen woman was last to join them.

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The driver said, “Where’s your armor?”

She said without a second’s hesitation, "Left it behind.”

“There’s two more men than before.”

Renshu said, “The Inquisitor sent us. If you have a problem, take it up with her.”

There was a moment’s silence.

The wagon moved once more.

Liao hunched down, hands pressed against the weight of his helmet. When they left the Imperial District, he saw what was once a bustling city now quiet past the marching patrols. No street hawkers announcing their finger foods, and the smells of fried fish, meat, boiled dumplings, or chrysanthemum tea. No women holding their sun umbrellas, no men wheeling their carts of fruits and vegetables into the busy taverns and inns. The absence of such smells and sounds was soon filled with the howling of mongrel dogs and piss when they reached the Lower District; Lowtown. Fear was evident in Hightown. Here, it was an ever present existence.

The wagon paused to let a guard clamber down, continued, then stopped for the next. Soon dusk purpled the sky. They were the last few to leave, alongside another guard.

When the wagon turned a bend out of their view, the man said, “Yvir. Who are these men?”

“The Inquisitor sent them.”

“Why did you leave your armor behind?”

“It’s the Inquisitor’s business.”

“These men following you,” the man said, “should it be my business?”

“You’re a good man, Tuli. But you can fuck off.”

Liao could see Tuli’s scoff through his helmet. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Or I won’t. Who knows, in these restless winds?”

The man turned away. Yvir walked on, Liao’s weight supported by Renshu’s shoulder.

Eventually, after several hundred dragging steps later, the woman knocked over a weathered door. An older woman opened it. Without a word, she gestured for them to enter.

Inside was a small table with two chairs, a matted bed on the floorboards, an iron pot over a makeshift hearth, and not much else. Liao sagged to the nearest wall, Renshu joining him, cross legged.

The woman hugged Yvir, trembling. “Thank all the gods you’re safe. I heard from Rai of the People’s Army. Is it true, Yvir? Have they taken the city?”

“It’s true, ma.”

“Who are these men?”

"They're officials of the Imperial court. We have to hide them, until the morning."

"Whatever trouble you're in, please. Tell me. Why are they here?”

The woman turned away, slumping down to the wooden floor. “I can’t tell you.”

“If you can’t tell me, who can you tell, Yvir?” her mother murmured, moving to the hearth. The woman ladled soup from the simmering pot. Her daughter ignored the offering, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked down to Liao and Renshu, giving them each a bowl of the watery broth.

“Thank you,” Liao said, gathering the bowl’s heat around his fingers.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The woman lay down on the lone bed, her backside facing them.

“Eat,” Reshu said quietly. “While you still can.”

Liao supped on the thin broth. Heat spread from his throat to his belly, saving him from the numbness he felt, at least for now.

“The People’s Army,” he said. “They follow the viceroys.”

“Yes. You should rest.”

Liao whispered, “Did you know this would happen?”

“No. Not until it was too late. It couldn’t be stopped either way, not if the Emperor was killed.”

The prince closed his eyes, exhaling softly. “They said he could level armies. How is it possible?”

“Treachery is always a simple dagger’s point away. The viceroys aren’t fools. It would have taken their combined might to stop… such a man.”

“He’s gone,” Liao breathed. “If he was here, he would’ve stopped all this from happening. What fools we've been to believe in just a man, and not something greater.”

But what else was there to believe in? Liao wondered of the gods, and if they were laughing at the whims they put on their worshippers. He was no believer, just a boy given power, and never having taken it as a man.

The sharp rapping from the door jarred his thoughts away. Yvir’s mother stood, but Yvir was quicker, placing a finger to her own mouth. The knocking of the door continued, thunderous in their silence. Yvir moved to open the door.