Here's one last little reading tidbit in 2025!
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Once we were in one of the royal carriages with the prince consort and headed for the palace, I noticed the pennants hanging from buildings we passed. There should be only one on each pole for the queen since the formal mourning period hadn’t ended yet. But several of the building sported multiple pennants.
Are all the flags black? I asked Luc. With my odd sight, I couldn’t distinguish conventional cloth colors as they appeared to everyone else.
Luc turned toward me and nodded, but it was Prince White Eagle who spoke silently.
There’s been a series of additional deaths in the city since Queen Teodora’s, Chief Justice, he said. Can you hold your questions until we arrive at the palace? I don’t want to have to explain everything twice, and I want a warded room when we do speak.
Of course, Your Highness. I beg forgiveness. I inclined my head. I meant no disrespect. I was merely shocked by the sheer number of mourning flags.
He nodded in return. His cheeks glowed a brilliant orange, the color of his skin edging into red, while anxiety spilled from his tight shields. Whatever was happening greatly upset the prince.
I had always thought of the prince consort as imperturbable from my personal encounters with him. He’d faced down a demon army outside of Tandor at his wife’s side last year. To feel this kind of worry and nervousness from him was disconcerting at best.
And terrifying at the worst. I feared the reception we might receive from our new liege, Queen Chiara. Which pivoted my own need to do something, anything, into a racing heart and shortness of breath.
“Calm down, Chief Justice,” Luc whispered. “You can’t do anything for the queen or Issura if you allow a fear attack to overwhelm you.”
“If Lord—” I shut my jaw so sharply my teeth clicked. I hated secrets, but accidently revealing the queen’s new distance speaker would be a devastating mistake.
I took a deep breath, then another, counting to five for each inhalation and exhalation. It was a calming technique High Sister Mya had taught me when I was under her care. Our recent voyage to Jing and the dangers we had encountered escorting the new emperor home for his coronation had left the threads of my spirit shredded. And our respite in the Kingdom of O’ahu had been cut short.
When I trusted my voice again, I said, “I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. I allowed my previous experiences to get the better of me.”
“You’ve faced more demons and skinwalkers than I have,” the prince consort said dryly. “I’ve often wondered if I could keep my head if I experienced everything you’ve been through. Both the queen and I are impressed you haven’t broken under the constant pressure.”
“Maybe not broken, but there are definitely a few cracks, You Highness,” I murmured.
He pursed his lips before he added, “I think you underestimate yourself as much, if not more so, than our enemies do, Chief Justice. Since you’ve had limited contact with us after you left for Jing, we want you to know there’s been a world-wide outcry on your behalf and that of Reverend Mother Fumiko over Reverend Father Ogusuku’s ill-considered actions.”
“I’m more concerned about Reverend Father Grey Shadow’s opinion of me because his influence would affect my working relationship with High Brother Talbert in Orrin,” I replied.
The prince consort smirked. “You can ask the Reverend Father yourself when we reach the palace.”
“He’ll be there?” Luc asked when my own words failed me.
Prince Consort White Eagle nodded.
My experiences with Reverend Father Ogusuku of Ryukyu and Reverend Father Biming of Jing had left a bad taste in my mouth. Both leaders of their respective nation’s Temple of Thief had plotted to have me executed for demon dealing when all I did was survive after I fell through a demon portal during the Batttle of Naha. I accepted Biming’s apology for his part in Ogusuku’s trumped up charges more for the sake of Emperor Po and Empress Shi Hua than for mine. I considered the imperial couple personal friends after all the demon-related muck we’d waded through together over the last two years. They needed the backing of the Jing Temples, so I made pleasantries with Biming, though I didn’t really trust him anymore despite his efforts to win back my favor.
While there wasn’t a thing I could do about Ogusuku, the fact that the rest of the Temple heads questioned his abilities and judgment would hopefully plant a seed of doubt in Ryukyu’s high brothers and high sisters of Thief. However, when that seed sprouted, would they hold a vote of no confidence in Ogusuku’s leadership?
I wasn’t arrogant enough to pray to the Twelve for such an outcome. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t hope Balance’s scales would mete out Her own justice when it came to the pompous ass.
Nor could I allow my biases to ruin a working relationship with Reverend Father Grey Shadow. Mostly because I depended too much on High Brother Talbert and his staff’s assistance in dealing with renegades and demons in Orrin.
It had been nearly six months since the last time I spoke directly with Talbert. Both he and Luc had surprised me when they bet on me and Talbert’s second Sister Cedar Grove to tie in the final game of our Mill tournament last winter.
The same night the former emperor of Jing Chengwu and his family were slaughtered by demons.
To distract myself from my morbid thoughts, I turned my head to watch the citizens on the streets through the carriage’s small window. People should have been in a better mood with the glorious early summer weather. However, everyone we passed appeared in melancholy spirits. Even accounting for the royal mourning period and the large amount of additional recent deaths, the very air itself seemed to drip with sadness and despair.
If there had been another demon attack in Issura, the citizens would have displayed grim determination. Very little could overwhelm the survival instinct in human beings. This strange emotional air was something else entirely.
Even as the thought passed through my head, a man with a blade in hand charged into two women carrying market baskets and knocked them face-first onto the street. Baked rolls and first-of-the-season melons scattered from the baskets.
The man ignored the food. Instead, he slashed the melon woman’s carry pouch from her belt. No, he didn’t just cut the pouch free. Bright pink blood seeped into her clothing and spread in an ugly pattern.
“Stop the carriage!” I open the door and leapt out before the wheels quit rolling.
“Anthea!” Luc roared behind me.
But I sprinted across the cobblestones and raced after the cutpurse. His long legs ate up ground as he darted and wove around the pedestrians, oxen, and horses. If I didn’t do something soon, he’d simply outrun me.
Lightning would have stopped him, but there were too many innocents nearby. I couldn’t risk accidentally killing them. A time freeze spell wouldn’t work effectively on a wide-open boulevard such as this. But a rewind of time might startle him enough for me to catch up. I slowed, crouched, and slapped my palms on the dusty cobblestones.
A pulse of magic created a short loop, replaying the actions of people and animals from the last one hundred-twenty heartbeats. The spell wouldn’t last long. I jumped to my feet and raced after the cutpurse.
Crys of alarm rose on the street. The images appeared more solid to the humans and animals around me. As I hoped, the cutpurse dodged the past images of horses. I simply ran through the misty figures.
He skidded on his boots as he circled around a stack of wooden boxes near the entrance of a dry goods store. With a series of running leaps, I climbed the pile amid more shouts and dove for the man as he ran past.
We tumbled to the cobblestones. He rolled so he pinned me to the cobblestones, and he aimed a fist at my face. I froze time around him.
I was surrounded by merchants and peacekeepers by the time I painfully crawled out from underneath his body. Thankfully, this didn’t occur in Orrin. I wouldn’t have to endure Master Healer Bly and my head of household Sivan’s lectures about the bruises that would cover my body by tomorrow morning.
It didn’t help when a peacekeeper jerked me to my feet. A bushy blue mustache and beard bristled with his outrage. “Idiot! Don’t you know justices aren’t sighted? What in the Twelve do you think you’re playing at?”
When he shook me, my hood fell back. At the vision of my red eyes, he abruptly released me. Whispers of “the Red Justice” filtered through the crowd.
The prince consort and two of his guards raced up to us along with Long Feather. The people surrounding me automatically bowed. Long Feather covered his mouth with his free hand, no doubt to stifled his laughter. However, the prince glared at me.
“What in the Twelve do you think you’re doing, Chief Justice?” he barked.
Maybe I wasn’t going to evade a lecture after all.

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