Thirty-Three Tastes Of Poison

X. The General

Min Lian watched Emőke shatter with a smirk on his lips. He had seen horror before, but none resembled hers. Few things were like the utter despair of a person not prone to emotional reactions. Her thick, perfect armour was gone, pierced in so many places that it offered no cover, no protection from his prying eyes. Emőke broke the moment Elemér died, and the news of the perished Moon-Marked reached her. And Min Lian was there to witness her anguish.

Lunging forward, she unleashed her amber threads to shield the Spy. But Min Lian had beaten her to the punch. The Envoy could save herself, but not others. If Min Lian could not have everything, neither could she.

The loss of the Moon-Marked, followed by Elemér's suicidal stunt, was an unpleasant accident, a minor setback that annoyed the General but did not destroy him. Even though the Spy had fallen from the General's blade, nobody would accuse Min Lian of starting a war. More likely, the Magor leaders would be grateful to the General for eliminating a failed agent gone rogue.

As to the Moon-Marked, Min Lian would find a way to salvage their bones. His victory would not be complete, though. The meddling Envoy had made sure of that. But now she could no longer harm him. Could she?

Something about the Envoy did not make sense. The way Emőke's shoulders shook, the way blood beaded in the corner of her lips, the way she let go of Elemér's dead hand—all her gestures betrayed shock if not utter terror. As an ally of the rebels, she should have guessed the Spy was the Green Shadow. She should have discovered his identity earlier than Min Lian. Unless... Unless Emőke knew the Spy had lied to them.

The crowd of onlookers and guards dispersed when Min Lian approached Emőke, ordering his men to escort them back to the residence and take care of Elemér's body. Then, as the clatter of armour subsided and whispers died in the wind, the General leaned forward.

"It's you, isn't it?"

"Me?" Only her pale lips moved, while Emőke's green eyes never left the bloody sight of the Spy's body.

"You're the Green Shadow," Min Lian whispered. "I don't know how you did it, but it must be you."

Emőke's pupils widened slightly, but her expression remained neutral. Then she fell into step beside him, her gaze radiating deep hatred—the familiar emotion Min Lian had grown to appreciate over the years.

"Your High Officials have brought you the evidence you sought, General. You have the Green Shadow, and you will accept the proof." She paused. "You've killed foreigners, spinners, and bystanders to claim power. You may be surprised to realize fear stops working at some point. And you've reached that point."

"Fear never stops working," the General said with a scoff. "As much as you want to believe otherwise, nobody cares about the Green Shadow and the Moon-Marked."

"Perhaps. But everyone cares about themselves. And you've threatened the safety of your country. How many people will remain in Senrei once you've butchered all your enemies? A dozen? A hundred?"

Min Lian winced, anger strangling him. "As the Green Shadow, you're surprisingly arrogant. You've lost too many of your allies to educate me on how to preserve mine, my lady."

"I haven't lost people to you." Emőke retaliated. "A desperate girl who thought hell was preferable to your Order killed the Moon-Marked. Not you. You're a maniac whose time is running out. But, unfortunately, too many had to perish before you could pay."

Stopping at the gates of his residence, Min Lian measured her from head to toe with a glare of appreciation and apprehension.

"Such brave words from someone who used to be Xin Yuan's right hand," he said. Pursing her lips, Emőke stared at him.