After that night, Eli knew no peace.
Nothing changed at first. He continued as always, following Benehime wherever she needed to go, entertaining her when she was bored, telling her he loved her whenever prompted like a little parrot. But he didn’t mean it, not anymore.
Now that he’d seen the truth once, he saw it all the time—the cruel shadow that lay behind her smile. The way she held him just a hair too tight. The faint threat in her voice every time she told him to say he loved her. But worst of all were the spirits. Before, when they’d trembled in front of Benehime, he’d thought it was awe. He now saw it for what it really was: pure terror. He would stand beside her as she dealt with the spirits, hating every second of it. Hating her for being that way. Hating himself for not seeing it sooner.
It hurt to think how childish he’d been, how naive. He’d thought he was important, standing beside her, having spirits bow to him as they bowed to her, but he was nothing but a shadow, an afterthought of their fear. It made him sick. Living with his father in the tower, the spirits had been his friends. They’d been kind to him when Banage had driven all kindness out in the name of discipline, and this was how he repaid them? Following their tyrant around, lapping up her attention like a little lovesick dog?
The truth of it ate at him. Everything she did now—the forced kisses, the constant promises she wrung out of him—it made Eli furious. Made him feel used and helpless and disgusting, but what could he do? Benehime was always with him. She didn’t sleep, only sat beside him while he did. She never let him out of her sight, save for those times she vanished mysteriously. Eli didn’t follow her anymore. He’d seen as much of her true nature as he cared to, but even if he had taken those chances to open a hole and escape, she would find him. Assuming the spirits didn’t report him at once, she’d told him many times that his soul shone like a beacon. All she had to do was look at her sphere and pick him out. No, if he wanted to escape for real, for good, he would have to convince Benehime to let him go. Of course, he had about as much chance of that as of convincing gravity not to pull him down, but Eli was never one to let impossibilities stand in his way.
Eight months later, he finally came up with a plan. He spent another month refining it, and yet another being the best possible boy Benehime could ever ask for. Finally, when the plan was firmly cemented in his mind and Benehime was in the best mood he could manage, Eli sprang.
They were in the jungle far, far south of the Council Kingdoms. Eli had suggested the place because he knew the Lord of Storms hated the hot, muggy weather and he’d needed as few variables as possible. They were perched in the branches of an obliging tree, their feet dangling lazily in the air. Eli had suggested the spot himself, and he was using the tree’s flowers to make Benehime a crown. The Lady watched, her face beaming with love at the seemingly spontaneous show of affection.
The moment he laid the crown on her head, Eli said the words he’d been rehearsing to himself for the past eight weeks.
“Do you remember the story you told me once,” he said, his voice perfectly casual, “about when you first found Nara?”
Don’t speak her name, Benehime said, adjusting her crown with loving fingers. She’s forgotten, my treasure. Only you matter now.
Eli smiled his best bashful smile and pushed a step further. “Yes, but do you remember how you gave her a wish?”
Benehime laughed and drew him into her lap. Is that where this is going? she said, kissing his cheek. Do you want a wish, too, love? Silly boy, you know I’ll give you whatever you want.
“It’s not so much a what as something I want to do,” Eli said, reaching into the pocket of his beautiful white shirt and taking out the folded piece of paper he’d so carefully snitched the last time they were in Zarin.
Benehime’s smile faded as Eli spread the paper across their laps. It was a wanted poster for Den the Warlord. His terrifying face glared up at them, daring anyone to try for the enormous number written in block capitals below him: five hundred thousand gold standards.
What is this?
“You remember just before my birthday?” Eli said. “When I said I wanted to be on a wanted poster? Well, I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately, and I think I’m ready.”
Benehime leaned back to stare at him, her white face genuinely confused. Ready to do what?
“Get on a poster,” Eli said. “I’ve decided. I want to be a thief. Not just any thief, the world’s greatest thief!”
Love, Benehime said patiently. If you want something, I’ll give it to you. You don’t have to steal.