The carriage drove slowly along a densely wooded path, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Shadows from the trees on the roadside dappled the road with countless spots. Above, sunlight escaping from the dense branches illuminated patches of the ground like scattered, glittering gold.
Chinua slowly began to wake. The rumbling sound of the wagon wheels filtered into her consciousness, accompanied by a dull ache in her arm. She blinked her eyes twice before awareness fully returned. Then she realized where she was: lying on her left side on Khunbish's thigh, in a moving wagon.
Khunbish's face came into focus. "Where are we?" Chinua managed to ask.
"Still twenty miles from the final mountain pass," he said.
She pushed herself slowly to a sitting position, stretching her stiff neck. "How long... have I been out?" A sharp, throbbing pain flared in her left upper arm.
"Five whole hours," Hye's voice answered from somewhere behind her. "You held us up."
Chinua turned around. There was Hye, sitting behind her with his belongings. "I suppose you saved me," she murmured. She shifted to face him fully. "That arrow," she asked, her voice low, "it was poisonous, wasn't it?"
Hye shook his head. "The arrow wasn't poisoned," he stated. "It's the assassins themselves. Their blood is poisonous." He gestured to her arm. "Your wound... while you were killing them, I believe their blood got into your cut." He produced a small black pill from his hand and tossed it to her. His gaze was hard. "Why would they work for someone so cruel to them?" he asked, the question heavy.
Chinua let out a weary sigh. "Sometimes those people might not have a choice," she said softly. She looked at the small black pill in her hand. Hesitantly, she put it in her mouth, but instantly grimaced and spit it out quickly. "Ugh!" she gasped. "What is that?! It's unbelievably bitter!"
"Good medicine tastes bitter," Hye said, his voice firm. "Just take it. You don't have much choice."
Chinua shook her head slowly. "I will not take it," she firmly refused.
"You either take it like an adult," he said, his voice hard, "or I'm going to have everyone hold you down and force the medicine down your throat." Chinua's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Make a decision," Hye commanded, his voice dropping, the countdown beginning. "Five... four...three..."
Khawn, walking alongside the wagon, spoke up, his voice low and urgent. "Take it, Chinua. Please." He gestured to the assembled men. "If we have to hold you down, if Hye has to shove that medicine down your throat... it won't look good in front of the soldiers, Commander. Especially Captain Yaman."
Drystan's voice cut through the tension. "Catch," he said, tossing two wrapped sugarcane candies towards Chinua. "Take the medicine, then eat these."
Chinua fumbled with the wrapper, pulling out a rock candy cube. She looked up at him, a faint hint of recognition on her face. "Rock candy? Where did you even find these?"
Drystan grinned. "Bought 'em from the real merchants," Drystan replied.
Zhi, watching them, muttered under his breath, "More like stolen from scared merchants."
Drystan looked at Zhi. "I was going to pay," he said, "but you beat me to it." He glanced at the people riding alongside the wagon; the expressions on their faces clearly showed they didn't believe him. Drystan met their gazes squarely. "The day I joined forces with Chinua," he stated, his voice serious, "I swore never to steal or become a killer again."
With a grimace, Chinua took the pill from Hye's hand and popped it inside her mouth. She quickly swallowed the bitter medicine and immediately shoved the first sugarcane candy into her mouth. Sweetness exploded, momentarily chasing away the acrid taste.
Chinua looked at the men surrounding her. "Did everyone hear what Drystan just said?" she asked, her voice firm. "Good." Her gaze settled on Drystan. "If any of you find him stealing or killing for money, I will reward you heavily with two gold coins. As for Drystan, your punishment will be working in the kitchen and washing soldiers' training uniforms for two months, or until you have an epiphany."
Drystan's lip curled. "You're kidding, right?" he asked Chinua.
She shook her head. "No," she said flatly. "It's decided." She popped the second piece of sugarcane into her mouth, then turned to Zhi. "Thanks for the candy," she told him.
"Hey...hey...I gave it to you!" Drystan protested, his voice slightly indignant. "You're supposed to thank me not him."
Jeet stepped forward, a dry look on his face. "You said it yourself," he told Drystan. "You didn't pay. Zhi paid for the candies. So, in theory, Chinua should be thanking him instead of you."
A burst of laughter erupted from the men by the wagon, the sound echoing down the wooded path and catching the attention of the soldiers walking ahead. Some of them looked back, surprised to see the group who had been quiet for five hours suddenly so talkative and even laughing. Their gazes found the reason: Chinua had woken up.
"Keep your eyes on the road," Naksh shouted to the soldiers who had turned to look.
Seeing them turn away, Hye looked at Chinua, his expression serious. "Everyone saw what you did today," he said firmly. "I suggest that when we settle down in Chono Gate, you go apologize to Princess Ankhtsetseg."
Chinua's jaw set. "I will not," she said stubbornly.
Hye's eyebrows rose slightly. "Why not?"
Chinua looked away briefly, her expression grim. "They weren't exactly handing out chances," she muttered.
Without names being mentioned, the seven men already knew who Chinua and Hye were referring to – they were well aware of the larger threat. Disciplined, they did not interrupt the conversation, instead focusing on moving slowly alongside the wagon carrying Chinua, Hye, and Khunbish.
"But the person who is trying to kill you is not Princess Ankhtsetseg," Hye reasoned.
Chinua's gaze was distant, her voice chillingly cold. "I don't see any difference," she stated flatly, "between Ankhtsetseg and him." Hye stared at her, a look of surprise on his face.
Hye sighed, a sound of weary exasperation. "Princess Ankhtsetseg," he said firmly, "simply doesn't have the position in the palace to threaten your or your brother's royal status." He exhaled slowly, visibly calming himself. "The difference is clear. Princess Ankhtsetseg isn't him." He paused, then added, "Just like you aren't the crown prince." Another sigh escaped him. "Listen, Chinua," he pleaded. "Strategically, it's better to have one less enemy than to make a new one out of her." He stared intently at her. "You know I'm right," he said, his voice softer now. "But in the end, all I can offer is advice. Whether you accept it or not depends entirely on your inner decision."
Chinua met Hye's gaze briefly. "I'll think about it," she replied flatly. She turned away, settling her head onto Khunbish's right shoulder. With a sigh she didn't voice aloud, she stared ahead at the back of the carriage, watching the tree shadows dance on the forest road.
Before sunset, the group made camp two miles from the city of Hlu and a mile from Chono Gate. The air was filled with the low sounds of soldiers settling in. Chinua, her expression unreadable, slowly walked towards Princess Ankhtsetseg's tent. Just as she approached, the tent flap opened, and Yagaan came out, holding a basin.
"Fourth Princess." Yagaan bowed stiffly, still holding the basin. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tight with apprehension. She stepped back, using her body to block the entrance to Ankhtsetseg's tent, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Are you going to hurt the eldest princess?"
Chinua met Yagaan's fearful gaze. "To hurt her is to hurt myself," she stated. "Step aside."
Before Yagaan could respond, Ankhtsetseg's voice, surprisingly strong, called from inside: "Yagaan, let her in." Yagaan reluctantly stepped back from the entrance.
Chinua rolled her eyes at Yagaan, who reluctantly stepped aside. Yagaan knew clearly that no matter her dislike, she was helpless against the General of the East, a member of the royal family and King Batukhan's favorite princess. Resigned, all Yagaan could do was watch as Chinua lifted the tent curtains and walked inside with purposeful strides.
Chinua stepped inside the tent, the canvas flap falling shut behind her. Ankhtsetseg sat before a low table, engrossed in a painting, a brush held delicately in her hand. Without looking up, she said, "Sit down." She continued painting for another moment before finally asking, "Why are you here?"
Chinua sat across from Ankhtsetseg. She looked at the painting Ankhtsetseg was working on – mountains, rivers, and a lone horse in the wilderness. A flicker of understanding crossed Chinua's face. She knew the mountains and rivers were the beauty of the world beyond the palace walls. And the horse, wandering alone? That was Ankhtsetseg's inner feelings.
Chinua understood now, truly understood, why Hye had had that heart-to-heart talk with her. Princesses of the royal family, she understood, were little more than pawns, offered up as gifts for political peace. They had no choice in love, no freedom in life. Chinua looked at Ankhtsetseg, then inwardly compared her own path. She was the anomaly, the lucky one among them, free to pursue her own ambitions and given the opportunity to achieve them.
Chinua swallowed. "I... I came to apologize," she stated. Her gaze was steady as she looked at Ankhtsetseg. "It was wrong of me to threaten your life like that, Princess, especially when everyone was watching."
Ankhtsetseg stopped painting, put away her brush, and looked up at Chinua. "Actually," she said, her voice calm despite the subject, "if my life can save Hye's life, I honestly wouldn't mind at all." Her gaze seemed distant for a moment.
"At least," she murmured, "I'd die in my motherland instead of some foreign country." A heavy sigh escaped her.
"Although I'm not as quick as you, I do understand your actions today," she stated, her voice regaining firmness. "But if someone here needs to apologize, Princess, it should be me. Not you."
Chinua fell silent about the incident. A sudden realization dawned on her. From the subtle cues in Ankhtsetseg's voice and words, Chinua understood that the princess likely knew by now who was behind the attempts on her life.
"Your Highness," Yagaan said, entering the tent with a plate of food. "Your dinner."
Chinua stood up from where she sat across from Ankhtsetseg. "I will accept that," she said, looking at the princess, "as an apology." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked towards the tent flap.
Chinua!" Ankhtsetseg called, standing quickly. Chinua halted her steps towards the door and turned back. Ankhtsetseg met her gaze, her eyes filled with a deep sadness.
"If," she began, her voice earnest, "if they ever admit their mistakes... please ask father for mercy on my behalf." She took a step closer.
"Despite everything," Ankhtsetseg said, the words heavy, "no matter how they hurt you... we are still family."
Chinua nodded. "Mm..."
Watching Chinua disappear into the setting sun, Ankhtsetseg sighed. "She has that rare quality," she murmured to herself, a touch of sadness in her voice. "A leader men would follow without needing a title. It makes sense father favors her above us all." Wearily, she sat down, her gaze landing on the uneaten dinner. Her mind drifted, latching onto an old verse: "The great king gazed south and said good morning, and he gazed east and said good night. The next day, the great king gazed east and said good morning, and he gazed south and said good night, for those two places are the places he loved most."
"Why did you say that Your Highness?" Yagaan asked, her voice laced with concern.
Ankhtsetseg met her gaze. "I did not speak wrong," she said quietly.
"But... how could you compare yourself to the Fourth Princess in that way?" Yagaan protested, her hands tightening on the plate of food. "His Majesty loves you no less than her!"
Ankhtsetseg sighed, a sound of deep weariness. "In the days we spent together," she said softly, "I witnessed the loyalty and respect the soldiers and people had for Chinua. I saw the growth of a true leader, and even if I dedicated my life to surpassing her, I would never defeat Chinua." She looked at her hands in her lap. "I admitted defeat. My heart decided to surrender." Her voice hardened slightly as she added, "But mother and Dzhambul? They still refuse to see it. They are still in denial."