Anna's POV
Kano pulled his sword from its sheath with a sound that seemed to suck the air from the room. The metal flashed once in the torchlight and my whole body went cold. For a second I couldn't feel my limbs at all; my heart was banging so loud I was sure everyone could hear it.
"I am not from the Feng Kingdom, I swear!" I said, voice shaking. I meant it. I had no idea how I'd ended up here like this, but I wasn't a spy. I hadn't come to hurt anyone. I just wanted to go back to my world .
The king's face was unreadable. "We don't believe you," he said, voice flat. "And if you are not a spy, it will be an honour for you to die by our honourable General Shoto Kano."
My stomach fell through my feet. I blinked. "Damn it, I swear I am not a freaking spy," I blurted, more loudly than I meant to. The words felt like a knife in my mouth. I shouldn't have said it—language like that in front of a king—but the fear made me careless.
Kano's face tightened. "Such language for a woman," he said, as if the word itself offended him. "It doesn't suit you. Besides, I don't like a sharp tongue. Maybe I should silence it."
He leaned in. The sword hovered above my neck; I could see the reflection of the torchlight on its edge. I closed my eyes, because closing them felt like the only thing I could control. Please, anyone, I thought. Someone, anyone—save me.
For the briefest moment the blade was inches from my skin. I imagined the cold of the stone, the taste of dust, the slow slide of everything ending. I thought of my dad—stupid, useless wish—and whispered, "Dad, I wish you were here."
Kano's hand tightened. The sword trembled. Time slowed to a syrup. Then, impossibly, another sound cut through—metal clashing, a sharp note of something being driven between two blades. The world snapped back.
The blade that had been aimed at my throat collided with something finer, something keener. A sound rang out and every head turned. I opened my eyes, heart in my mouth. Standing there, as if he had only just decided to stroll in, was Kiyoshi.
He looked serious for the moment—hair combed, robes all neat , and a quiet, steady anger on his face that made everyone hold their breath. The hall seemed to lean toward him.
Kano stepped back, suddenly on the defensive. Without a second thought he went down on one knee before Kiyoshi, and even the king and Prince Shang bowed—slow, abrupt motions of respect I had never seen in the palace before.
I scrambled to my feet and slipped behind Kiyoshi without meaning to. My legs felt like jelly. Up close, I could see Kiyoshi's eyes—clear and strange, like they'd seen too much and still laughed about it. He fixed me with a look that was half amusement, half command.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Shoto?" Kiyoshi asked, voice cool.
"Slaying a spy," Kano answered, swift and mechanized, as if he'd said it a thousand times.
"How dare you insult my pupil as a spy?" Kiyoshi's voice rose, sharp now. At the word *pupil*, every head in the hall turned to look at me like I'd grown a second head. 'Pupil?'My cheeks flamed.
"You—your pupil?" Kano echoed, incredulous.
Kiyoshi nodded slowly. "Yes. I sent her here to help your injured soldiers from the war. She's a healer."
Kano's face flickered with confusion and something like irritation. "She told me no such thing."
Kiyoshi's voice softened in that way people use when they want to make other men look small. "Why would she tell you? You are not the king or the prince, Shoto. You would not be the one she'd report to."
Kano's jaw shifted. For a second his shoulders slumped like a man holding up too much. "If she had told me she was a healer—pupil of Kiyoshi the Great—I would not have touched her."
Kiyoshi moved toward me and untied my hands. My wrists were raw and stung where the rope had bit into them. I rubbed them automatically, my fingers trembling. The king stood up , eyes going from Kiyoshi to me and back again, bewildered and curious.
Kiyoshi's mouth barely curved. "Surprising to see you here, in your enemy's kingdom," he said, eyes on me but speaking to the king.
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. Something in the way he stood made me feel both protected and ridiculously exposed at the same time. I noticed my clothes—torn and stained—and felt my face flush again with embarrassment. Without a word, Kiyoshi shrugged off the outer layer of his own robe and draped it around my shoulders.
It was huge on me, smelled faintly of campfire and herbs. The fabric was warm. For the first time since I'd been dragged here, I felt a little less naked—physically and, somehow, internally.
Kiyoshi turned to the king. "Since Shou Feng is captured, which side are you on?" he asked, steady as a knife.
"The needy and poor people's side," Kiyoshi answered for me—an odd way of putting it that made my throat tighten.
The king laughed then, sharp and a touch cruel. Kano did not. He stayed quiet, eyes like stones. Kiyoshi's expression didn't change when the king laughed; it was as if he'd expected it.
"I only sent Anna here to help the helpless soldiers who almost died in this brutal war," Kiyoshi continued, the words falling like stones. "When you started to call Lord Feng—Shou Feng—calm, have you any idea what he will do? He will rip your heart out when he hears that you say his name so casually."
The king's face hardened. "I don't care. He lost and was captured." His voice was a challenge and a shield both.
Kiyoshi lifted a brow. "Let's see for how many days," he said.
The words seemed to sting. The king's expression went from defiant to calculating. A long silence stretched, full of courtiers breathing quietly, leaning in for the outcome.
Finally the king said, "Take the healer. We don't need her here."
Kano, who had been standing like a coiled thing, pushed up to his feet. He looked at the king, respect twisted with professional irritation. "Your Majesty," Kano said, "with all due respect, we do need her. The soldiers are dying. Other healers cannot keep up. Lord Kiyoshi's healers are the best in the world. We should have her—for the sake of those people's households. We need to return fathers and brothers to their families."
The king hesitated. This was something he could not shut his ears to: the plight of the people. His fingers drummed on the arm of his chair while the hall watched him decide.
He thought. Long, uncomfortable seconds. Then finally he nodded, a small gesture that felt like a drawn sword falling.
Kiyoshi's eyes narrowed, not in anger but in warning. "If someone lays a hand on her again," he said, voice slow and low, "maybe I will forget that I am a god of peace."
The words landed in the hall like a thunderclap. I blinked. "What did he say?" escaped from my lips before I could stop it.
"A god?" I whispered under my breath. The idea was ridiculous and terrifying. God of peace—an impossible thing to be connected to someone who had just silenced men with a look and slashed throats to make them stop.
Kiyoshi's gaze flicked to me then, softer. For a heartbeat he looked like a teacher seeing a student who'd surprised him, perhaps with a foolish mistake that could be fixed. "Come," he said quietly, and he gestured me forward.
End of The chapter