The summit was fast approaching, which really meant that it had already begun. As Yue had taught Yoshika, the majority of the negotiation would happen behind closed doors and in private meetings rather than during larger assemblies. Even their new engagement was being held in reserve until the best moment—at Yue’s suggestion. While arrangements had already been made with their friends and allies, guests had begun arriving.

  The first delegates to arrive were the Qin imperial family, arriving in a parade that Yoshika was glad she wasn’t responsible for arranging this time. Amazingly, the bearers of the large and very heavy looking golden palanquin carried the vehicle up the steep stairs built into the side of Purewater Peak, and all the way to the main temple of the sect. The xiantian servants had to actually fly to hold it level.

  It made Yoshika want to roll her eyes. Almost every ruler she met was obsessed with displays of extreme wealth and power, and none were more ostentatious than the imperial clan of Qin. She shuddered to imagine how the actual emperor would present himself.

  Jia and Yue were the first to greet them as the palanquin was placed delicately on the great landing near the mountain peak, the bearers careful not to jostle the occupants in any way. The triumvirate of grandmasters leading the Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect stood with them, but the hosts of the summit deferred to Yoshika as the one who’d called it.

  Everyone from the mortal servants of the temple to the grandmasters themselves bowed deeply as the imperial representatives disembarked. Only Yoshika herself stood up straight, even as Yue bowed next to her. The twin princesses Qin Xiang and Qin Ling were first, and Yoshika gave them a polite bow—a gesture of acknowledgement between rulers, rather than deference. The twins, smirking as usual, gave her the barest nod in return as they strode forward.

  Behind them, two more figures exited the palanquin. Yoshika expected Qin Yongliang, the first prince and prime minister of the empire, and he returned her bow more politely than his sisters. The last man was a surprise, however, and Jia’s face lit up with delight as Qin Zhao, her master and mentor stepped forth.

  She crossed the distance between them in an instant, forgetting any semblance of decorum as she practically slammed into Qin Zhao to hug him.

  “Master! It’s so good to see you!”

  Qin Zhao blinked, holding his arms out to either side awkwardly as if he had no idea what to do. He looked to his family, but Yongliang kept his gaze straight ahead while the twins covered their mouths with fans and looked away, pretending not to be smiling at the sight. After a moment, he patted Jia on the shoulder and coughed once.

  “Yes, likewise. This is highly inappropriate, Miss Lee.”

  Jia rolled her eyes and released her flustered mentor. She’d never actually been that close to Qin Zhao, but he’d invested a lot into her education and even risked his own life and position in order to help while Jiaguo was still finding its identity. He was a man who took his oaths very seriously—they were part and parcel to who and what he was—and unlike a certain divine sovereign, he held each one in equal regard. He was her teacher, and she was his student, and as taciturn as the man may be, he’d die before breaking that bond.

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Master. I wasn’t expecting to see you here—or ever again, really.”

  “Whereas you manage to surprise me with every meeting. I am here, however, to represent the interests of the empire as a witness to your deeds, and expert on matters of your craft.”

  Jia smiled sadly and bowed. Qin Zhao’s many oaths and obligations were the source of his power, but also bound him. He was undoubtedly on her side, but he was also a servant of the Heavenly Empire and that conflict limited what aid he could render. That he was here at all was a good sign that the imperial family, at least, were interested in cooperation, but his words were a warning that they were not open allies.

  The twins cut in, all razor sharp smiles and pointed grace.

  “We didn’t expect to meet again either, Empress Yoshika.”

  “You’ve conducted yourself quite well to weather the ire of the great sects. You’ll have to work hard to prove yourself a friend of the empire.”

  Jia nodded to the twins, matching their smiles with her own. It was odd—they’d been so intimidating when she first met them, but in the short time since she couldn’t help but feel like their aura really was like a hollow mountain or a shallow ocean. Strength without purpose—power without meaning. Qin Zhao’s domain felt more real to her, even if he was weaker.

  “Thank you, Qin Ling. As ever, I endeavor to rise to the challenges forced against me. I appreciate you meeting me in good faith, even if you didn’t expect to, Qin Xiang.”

  The twins were pleased and annoyed in turns by her ability to identify them, but accepted her greeting with good cheer. Qin Yongliang joined with a carefully neutral expression.

  “We meet again, Empress Yoshika. Though I respect your peaceful intentions, I remind you that Qin merely recognized the challenge you levied by declaring yourself empress. Perhaps we need not be rivals, but if we are, it was you who began the conflict.”

  Even now, Yoshika struggled to place Qin Yongliang. The first prince of Qin was impossible to read. His aura gave nothing away, and neither did his expression. His words were carefully chosen to leave a path to peace open without acknowledging any wrongdoing or failure on the part of the empire. He had treated her fairly in the past, and favored Qin Zhao, but Yoshika was wary of him most of all. To her, Yongliang was a man who played his hand carefully and deliberately. Not a schemer like Do Hye, nor as impulsive or power hungry as Yan De. Instead, he was a man whose every move was precisely calculated to do nothing at all.

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  If Yoshika was someone who flipped the board, then Qin Yongliang was the one to pick it back up and replace the pieces exactly as they were. He was the reason the great sects did not destroy each other, the reason Qin did not constantly expand its frontiers. His aura was guarded, but if she could sense it, Yoshika thought his domain would be one of status quo. A difficult path to pursue, but he’d had a long time to master it.

  She hated it. It reminded her of Shen Yu and his pragmatic ruthlessness, but without the same kind of pride behind it. He was dangerous, even if he didn’t directly oppose her.

  “It needn’t have been that way if your empire didn’t insist on laying claim to the entire continent, but this isn’t the time or place for that debate. I welcome you, sons and daughters of Qin, on behalf of the Jiaguo empire and the Great Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect. We meet here on neutral ground as enemies, but I pray that we can leave as friends.”

  Qin Yongliang regarded her impassively for a long moment, then inclined his head in acknowledgement and turned away without another word.

  Yoshika suppressed a sigh as their gracious hosts took over, offering the imperial family the full hospitality of their sect. Yue gave her a knowing smile as their eyes met, exchanging thoughts without even needing to rely on their telepathy.

  It was going to be a long summit.

  Gao Yuanjun felt lost. Ever since the battle at Kucheon he’d been questioning himself. He’d been reunited with his sworn brothers, and even though Wen You was from a different sect, he felt that the bonds they’d forged on that battlefield would last a lifetime. He just wasn’t sure how long that lifetime would be.

  Most of the armies were returning home, though rumor claimed that the forces mustering from the north had merely paused their march, preparing to continue at a moment’s notice. Gao and his brothers were not. Any soldiers captured by the enemy, or who participated in the mutiny during the battle were separated from those returning. They now marched towards their judgment on neutral grounds.

  Gao could see Purewater Peak already, though they were still a few days out. One of the great wonders of the continent—a massive spire that pierced the clouds, water pouring forth endlessly from the spring at its peak. The water was said to be imbued with the essence of Purity, capable of curing simple ailments by itself and extremely valuable for crafting pills and alchemical concoctions.

  It had been a long march, and Gao had done a lot of thinking along the way. The Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect was a former great sect, and though the censure that had resulted in their demotion was older than he was, that status was still in dispute. Many still called it the Great Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect, and they were highly respected. Or had been.

  The Bai clan had been trying to undermine them for decades, and Qian Shi—the grandmaster of Gao’s Great Austere Mountain sect—had taken advantage of the dispute to lay his own claim on the province of Baishulin.

  “Wen You, you hail from Baishulin. Are you familiar with the clashes between the Bai and Xin clans?”

  Wen snorted. He was from a smaller branch sect and had little love for Bai’s Labyrinthine Forest of Unbreakable Threads.

  “What clashes? Bai Renshu thinks there is a void left by Flowing Purewater for him to fill, but the great sect still stands as tall as that mountain ahead. Without Yan De’s protection, I bet he’ll have to bow to either Grandmaster Xin Hai or your Grandmaster Qian Shi.”

  Shun Song coughed awkwardly.

  “Er, Grandmaster Bai Renshu marches with us brother—perhaps keep your voice down, lest it travel? I wouldn’t want to insult a venerable xiantian master.”

  “Says the man who speaks casually of the Empress of the Frontier. Are you not the one who keeps insisting that such lofty individuals are still people?”

  “Yes, but some of those people have swifter tempers than others. You should know Bai’s reputation better than I.”

  Wen You had grown more bold since joining the mutiny in defense of Shun. Perhaps he knew that his fate was sealed, and it didn’t matter who he insulted, or perhaps he was just bitter about the leaders who’d forced him to make such a bitter choice. He didn’t speak of it.

  “Grandmaster or not, Xiantian or not, Bai Renshu is a spineless coward and wouldn’t dare move without the blessing of Sun Quan or Qian Shi. I will relish watching him fall. Perhaps my homeland will join yours, brothers! Better that than ending up conquered.”

  Conquered. It seemed unlikely to Gao, but Wen was convinced that the Awakening Dragon and Flowing Purewater sects would defect to Jiaguo. Then it would really be war, and the continent would be steeped in blood unlike anything it had even seen before. Shun Song insisted it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Yoshika isn't stupid, Wen. She took Yamato by force, and Goryeo by clever wit—though she insists it was an accident—”

  “Who conquers an entire nation of beastkin by accident?!”

  “Right? Half-spirits, by the way—she’ll smack you if you get it wrong. It’s insulting to call them beasts.”

  Gao scratched his head and sighed.

  “I fear that’s sort of the point.”

  “All the more reason to break the habit, brother. Or have you already forgotten who brought us low in the last battle? Anyway, Yoshika wants peace above all else. It’s part of her nature, I think. You all felt her aura.”

  They had. Down to the very last soldier. Even those with the weakest ability to sense qi—and Gao was no expert, himself—had felt it when they’d heard her song and been drawn into that world of dreams. They’d seen what mattered most to them, but that exposure went both ways.

  Wen You grumbled a bit, but nodded begrudgingly as he conceded the point.

  “Perhaps, but it would be better not to be in a province that bends to the will of a foreign empress.”

  Would it? Gao didn’t dare give the question a voice, but it had been plaguing him. He had always been proud of his sect, and of the empire. He’d been proud to call himself a veteran of the frequent skirmishes with Yamato, one of the stones in the wall keeping the barbarians at bay. Now, he questioned.

  Was the empire truly glorious, or had it grown stagnant? Were the Austere Mountain’s attacks on the border with Yamato justified, or was it just Qian Shi scrabbling for power like his opportunistic bid for Bai’s lands? Was the God-Emperor, cloistered in his palace for millennia, a more worthy ruler than the women who fought on the front lines to protect their people?

  Gao thought he knew the answer, but feared to even think it. He didn’t know what would happen at the summit, but he marched on as he listened to his brothers’ lighthearted bickering. Whatever the future held, he sensed a great change coming.

  He hoped he and his brothers would live to see it.

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