Jade War

Shae didn’t disagree with Son’s sentiments. Nevertheless, she said to Son, “In a perfect world, people would act in accordance with the Divine Virtues all the time, and then I suppose the Return would be in sight. But the world is far from perfect, and we both know there are trade-offs to be made.”

Son turned around and jabbed one of the chasso darts into the air. “The Espenians are asking us to turn away homeless widows and orphans because they’re afraid some of them might be Ygutanian spies. Should we compromise our morals on account of foreign pressure?” Son’s words were indignant but his tone was resigned, and his objections were more rhetorical bluster than true disagreement. He knew as well as Shae did that No Peak was in a difficult position. The military challenges in Oortoko had made the Espenians paranoid and controlling. To their continued displeasure, the Kekonese Royal Council held firm in refusing to contribute soldiers or additional jade to the Oortokon War effort. Yet all the while, Shae had steered the clan toward business expansion and trade deals with Espenia and was opening a branch of the Weather Man’s office in Port Massy. Now that Hilo had established clan ties with the Green Bones in Espenia, and knowing that the Mountain was seeking its own foreign opportunities, Shae was all the more certain that No Peak needed every bit of political influence it could hang on to, at home and abroad. It needed the continued favor of Adamont Capita. As did the whole country, for a fact, if it wished to maintain its rapid economic growth. The Son family’s own textile business was benefiting handsomely from reduced tariffs.

“You’ve held Kekon’s highest political office during clan war within our country, and now foreign war surrounding it,” Shae pointed out to the chancellor. “You know all about pressure—and when to compromise.”

Son shook his head. “These are issues for my successor to deal with now, Kaul-jen.” They descended a well-landscaped pebble path into a small woodland. The afternoon was cooling fast; it wouldn’t be long before the autumn chill and the dimming light drove them back indoors.

“You’re not an old man yet, Chancellor Son. Look at how you’re outlasting me on the chasso course.” Shae paused in the middle of the path and faced the man. “On behalf of the Pillar, I must ask you for one more act of friendship to No Peak. Don’t retire after the end of your term. Keep your seat in the Royal Council. You’ll have plenty of time to enjoy yourself later, but stay in government for another year or two, and continue to do the good work this country needs of you.” She paused meaningfully. “The clan would be grateful to you, and your family.”

As a former Lantern Man, Chancellor Son knew that the clan’s gratitude was not something lightly given and almost certainly meant a significant monetary reward to him and his relatives. If he remained in the Royal Council, Son would continue to act as No Peak’s most senior politician in Wisdom Hall and would vote in line with the clan’s interests. In the event of a tie, his status as chancellor emeritus gave him the same privilege as the sitting chancellor—to cast an additional, tie-breaking vote—which would potentially negate Guim’s deciding power.

Chancellor Son pursed his thick lips. Speaking thoughtfully, but not without a touch of pride, “I suppose, after a lifetime of public service, what is one more year?” He fixed Shae with a sober, calculating gaze before hefting his chasso bow and turning back to the path. “I remain a loyal friend of the clan, Kaul-jen, but I can’t hold back a tide. Most people don’t understand the trade agreements or care about the Espenians’ security concerns. Many don’t see why we should accommodate foreigners at all. You’re walking a thin line. If you keep pitting the interests of No Peak against the will of the country, you won’t prevail.”

* * *

Shae was not normally a heavy drinker, but she had several glasses of wine at Woon’s wedding reception the following evening. Sometime after midnight, the bride and groom departed to the cheers of the guests, in a limousine festooned with red and yellow peonies symbolizing marital happiness and fertility. Shortly afterward, Shae left the party and retired to the Weather Man’s residence. Maro, dressed in a pressed blue linen suit and tie, walked with her to the front door. She paused before she went inside and turned to him over her shoulder. “Do you want to come in for a little while?”

She wasn’t sure if it was politeness, or drunken wistfulness, or something else that made her ask, but in that moment, she hoped he would say yes. Dozens of people had seen them leave the reception together, but having already endured and survived national public scandal, Shae no longer cared if there was clan gossip tomorrow morning.

Maro glanced away, then back at her with a hopeful but cautious expression. “For a little while,” he said.