Sunbroken

Chapter 39

His action vaults me back years; simple, and yet so meaningful. A sweep of skin. A raspy whisper. The gleam of fresh blood.

A time and place where I was not the girl I am today.

***

At nine years old, I was already more comfortable brandishing a sword than I was with skipping a rope or playing Find Me.

My father would watch me, lips straight, his gold-brown hair streaked with silver. As a general rule, he despised the habit of crossing one's arms, so his arms hung bulky and awkward by his sides. Straightforward described the entirety of his wardrobe; nothing extravagant, nothing particularly eye-catching save for the ring of stones slung around his hips. His eyes, though, commanded any room. It was said that once he'd stared a crocodile into submission before stealing its prey, carrying it back to the encampment for his meal.

I could never decide whether or not to believe that.

Little grunts of concentration slipped out of my mouth as I ran through my training drills. The blade hissed through the air, despite the practice sword's dullness.

He'd taken me up onto a mountain in the southern country that day, since it was autumn. I loved the stillness there. The freedom that I had within my boundaries and rules.

I could see so much from up high like that. It made me believe that perhaps, one day, I really could be queen of all of it. With this sword in my hand and a vernal diadem resting atop my head, I could rule and guide the Unakai through this land through times of famine and times of war. Times of celebration and peace. Seeing the scope of it, the reality, made it seem possible.

My eyes wandered back to the landscape. My body, though, kept cycling through the drills.

A mistake. I'd forgotten that I wasn't alone.

A smack crunched against the dead orange leaves below us. Namiko cried out, her hands going to her stomach where I'd jabbed her. Her dark eyes yawned wide. I hadn't been paying attention, so my aim had been off. It wasn't where she was expecting. She didn't catch it.

"'Miko!" I exclaimed, kneeling beside her. I brushed her hair behind her ear, placing my other hand atop her own. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to. I really didn't mean to. I'm sorry--"

Wrinkles stretched over the king's forehead. The corners of his mouth dropped just barely. But enough.

"Yudishi!" he barked. "Up. Why didn't you block her?"

My brows pulled together. Namiko swallowed, clutching my hand as she scrambled up. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

I forced myself to look him in the eyes, though a chill grabbed hold of my core. "I did it, Father, it was my--"

"Your fault? And let me guess, you're sorry? What's next, 'please' and 'thank you'?" The tanned lines in his face were showing now, his fists tight against his simple brown trousers. I didn't realize how close he had gotten to us until I could see our reflection in his pupils. The hairs protruding from his nostrils. He had always had an unstable temper.

I squeezed Namiko's hand harder. The king grabbed a handful of her tunic and lifted her clean off the ground. He swiped a knife from his belt, deftly tracing it along the line of her collarbone. Namiko inhaled sharply, tears budding in her eyes, but she didn't dare rebel against the king. She was raised too well for that.

I had no such qualms.

"Leave her alone!" I shouted, swinging a punch to his gut. The soft flesh tightened, but didn't bother him otherwise. A nine-year-old was no match for the king of the Unakai. I looked down at my skinny wrist and fingers turning white as they squeezed into my palm. It wasn't enough.