The Poppy War

I thrashed you at school. I’m frank about my combat abilities,”

“You are obnoxiously overconfident in your combat abilities,”

“I was scared of you,” Nezha continued. “And I lashed out. I was stupid. I was a spoiled brat. I was a real pain in the ass. I thought I was better than you, and I’m not. I’m sorry.”

“But I saved your life. Doesn’t that make us at least a little square?”

Tearza has the blood of Speer on her hands. Tearza deserved what she got.

This was a fully grown Speerly. This was a god in a man.

But Rin was looking past the flag at a face in the ranks—a boy, a beautiful boy with the palest skin and lovely almond eyes, walking on his own two legs as if his spine had never been severed. As if he had never been impaled on a general’s halberd.

As if he could sense her gaze, Nezha looked up.

Their eyes met under the moonlight. Rin’s heart leaped.

Altan looked like a limp puppet, tossed in the air, but he landed upright, tensed like a cat

“Is it the children you’re afraid of?” Auntie Fang cocked her head. “There are ways to kill them in the womb. You work in the apothecary. You know that. But you’ll want to give him at least one son. Cement your position as his first wife, so he can’t fritter his assets on a concubine.”

day. Do it at night right after he’s finished with you, so he always associates it with pleasure and power.

“Give him more and more until he is fully dependent on it, and on you. Let it destroy his body and mind. You’ll be more or less married to a breathing corpse, yes, but you will have his riches, his estates, and his power.” Auntie Fang tilted her head. “Then will it hurt you so much to share his bed?”