KINGSLAYER

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Act 4 Chapter 148
JAYLAH

Jaylah's teeth had been chattering for so long her gums had gone achingly numb. She was bundled with several thick layers and still could not feel her toes. When they landed in Navrika just two days ago it was upon a sunny southern beach. Navrika's geography was as intense as its people. Even in the lesser mountains it was cold enough to freeze anyone solid. She had to intercept the revolutionaries and put a swift end to them before it grew any colder and storms began to form. The Hochovs in Ition may have been uncomfortable and treacherous, but once winter set in, these mountains would turn lethal.

It was no help that she constantly feared that the information had been wrong, or that her calculations had been incorrect. Which would be worse—being purposefully led astray or just barely missing them? If there was any advantage to be found, it was that the task of finding them was so difficult that her father would never dream she could actually do it.

The thought of seeing him again—having to look into his face and know she betrayed him while she now understood why he had done it all—made her sick to her stomach.

On the third day, they had plans to walk far into the night, but Jaylah noticed how slowly her men were ascending each step. Adelié's face was drawn, so Jaylah knew she was in great pain. Though she tried to veil the sidelong glances she repeatedly snuck at Adelié, even Zensa seemed less certain than ever. Jaylah stopped them at the next plateau of rock for an early supper.

Jaylah stood beside Adelié's hunched form against a backdrop of her men doing their best to keep warm. They could only risk having a few small fires, lest their targets see great streaks of smoke and flee.

Zensa sat down beside Adelié and wordlessly rested a bowl of stew into her lap. Trails of steam dissipated over its surface. Jaylah could not draw her eyes from Adelié's stump of a wrist. That was Jaylah's fault for not suspecting Kostos sooner, for being arrogant enough to send so many troops through the lower ground. What would be next? Her head?

"I wish you would not have come," she said.

Zensa looked up at her, then noticed where her gaze was. "Too bad."

"I am serious. Remember what we spoke about before learning of the Kalingi invasion?"

"You advised me to go back to the safety of my uncle's palace. But my decision to remain far, far from there remains." Jaylah gave a sound of discontent, and Zensa fully faced her. "How could I choose a life so stifling when I have freedom now?"

"You do not have to remain there forever. I know it holds painful memories, but your mother is gone." She squeezed the bridge of her nose. "I just...I just want you far from here. That is all."

"You should understand perfectly why I cannot go back." Zensa shook her head slowly, the wayward ends of her hair brushing her shoulders. "My family worships positive social image. Of course they do, as they have to consistently prove their worth as leaders because they were once common people. But it is exhausting. I had to obsess over how every minute detail of every interaction may reflect on my family, whether it would make or break us when we are written into history."

She let out a long breath that steamed in the air before her face. "Sometimes I feel that I cannot blame my mother entirely for reacting the way she did, given that same pressure I felt. I know now she just wanted the easiest life for me. I know now that it was a mistake to sleep with that boy, especially when it would never become anything real. But...as soon as I knew she existed, I wanted that baby."

Adelié closed her eyes at the uncharacteristic ache in Zensa's voice. Eyes cast downward, Zensa thinned her lips. "I was always half-certain I would eventually return to Tilana, go running back to my family. It is why I hesitated to grow real roots with new people." She was meaningfully silent for a single beat, and the space between her and Adelié seemed ever smaller. "Then I think of the people back home who did not even know me and still scorned me for being so blatantly lascivious. They called me dirty. I now see it so clearly: I cannot return to a life in which the things I want are disregarded by people claiming to know better."

Jaylah dipped her chin, thinking of how lucky she was to have found a friend that understood her specific situation, and how the context behind her reasoning for saying such things was so heavy that it ruined any joy she may have felt. "You would be a wonderful mother," she said so softly it was nearly lost in the breeze.

"Did you pick out a name for her?" Adelié asked, her arm brushing Zensa's.

"I liked Jingyi. Wuhan Jingyi." It was clear she had never said it out loud before.

"It's beautiful."

With Adelié's gaze focused so intently on her, Zensa looked away. Vulnerable moments like this were not her forte. "The same should go for you, Jaylah, after this war is done. I know you believe you have a responsibility to these people. Perhaps you do. But do not throw yourself away for it."

Jaylah chewed her lip. "Even if I wished to, I do not have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Zensa said, though she seemed to have realized what Jaylah was really saying. "But you will not make it. You are too much of a slave to power."

At first, Jaylah wanted to give her a sharp retort, but by the cheerless turn to her lips, it occurred to her that Zensa was mourning her choice the way she was mourning Zensa's. They were all too similar in their ambition. Zensa was a slave to independence. Jaylah was a slave to power. The only difference was that the latter was poisonous.

She was alive, sitting right before Zensa, and yet she was being regarded as though she was already lost. Her mother had thought the same. Her mother had left her behind. A wave of irrevocable grief shot through her, cold and lifeless as an icicle. Still, it was not enough to make her change. How could she rework herself, her sinew and bones, into something she was not? Perhaps she could make things better for all those under her jurisdiction, but for her own self...

"Here." With her good hand, Adelié offered her half-gone bowl of stew to Jaylah. "You haven't eaten."

"No. You are injured and need all the nutrition you can get."

"I'm full," she said, likely lying. "If you do not eat, you will work yourself to collapse."

Not having expected her persistence, Jaylah took the stew. For a moment, she just held it. The bowl was warm, but it was slowly growing cold in her hands. Everything decayed eventually. Everything.