The Winds of Tepr

Chapter 52

Inside Hunan's office, Kuan presses his palms against the heavy wooden desk and shoves it aside. The legs scrape across the floor, the sound cutting through the stillness of the room. Beneath, hidden in plain sight, is the trapdoor. Kuan kneels, fingers sliding along the edges until he finds the latch. It clicks open with a soft metallic snap, and he pulls, revealing the dark passage leading into the sewers.

Jia watches from the doorway, her arms crossed. Her eyes widen, just for a second, before her usual smirk returns. "You've got to be kidding me. There's an actual hole to the sewers in here?"

Kuan stands, brushing the dust from his robes. "Follow me," he says, ignoring her incredulity as he steps onto the ladder leading down.

Jia snorts, folding her arms tighter. "You first, your highness. I'll catch up."

Kuan descends carefully, his feet finding purchase on the rungs. The air thickens with the smell of rot and dampness the further down he goes, but he says nothing. At the bottom, he glances up, and sure enough, Jia starts climbing down after him, her movements quicker, less cautious.

The moment she drops to the floor beside him, she wrinkles her nose dramatically and gags. "Ugh! Smells like someone's been dumping rotten cabbage and fish guts down here for a century. You come here often?"

Kuan doesn't answer, his thoughts flickering to what Hunan had told him the last time they were down here—about accepting the filth, about controlling it. The words hover on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them. This isn't the place for lessons.

Jia glances around, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "No, seriously," she says, stepping over a puddle with a grimace. "You must be a sewer rat to know this place so well. What, do you come down here when palace life gets too boring? Sniff some muck to feel alive?"

Kuan's brow furrows, and he shoots her a sidelong glance. "I don't think you're one to talk, with how quick you were to dive into this hole."

She laughs, loud and unrestrained. "Heh. But at least I know how to live a little. You, though—what, your daddy taught you all this? A noble boy with a secret lair. I'm impressed."

Kuan's lips twitch, a rare hint of amusement flickering across his face. "What kind of man," he says, his tone sharp, "would want to marry a vulgar girl like you?"

Jia cocks an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Who said anything about marriage? That's not your business, rat boy."

Kuan's expression stiffens, but there's a glint in his eyes as he steps over a particularly large heap of... something he chooses not to inspect too closely. "Ah, so it's just general bad manners then. I was hoping there was a method to your madness."

Jia grins, sidestepping the same pile. "Bad manners keep life interesting. You should try it sometime. Loosen up that stiff spine of yours."

Kuan shakes his head, a reluctant chuckle slipping out. "I'd rather not smell like a gutter on a permanent basis."

Jia gestures around, her fingers spread wide. "Oh, please. You're already knee-deep in it. Look at you! Up to your ears in filth and secrets. What's a little bit of stink to a future administrator?"

Kuan lifts his chin, feigning haughtiness. "I'm simply preparing myself for diplomatic missions. One must understand the lower rungs of society to govern them."

Jia barks out a laugh. "Diplomatic! Is that what you call crawling around in sewers now? What do you do for fun? Negotiate treaties with the rats?"

They pass beneath a dripping archway, the trickle of water from above hitting the stones with soft plinks. The conversation bounces between them as they walk, Jia's taunts growing more colorful with every step, while Kuan's sharp retorts become less formal, more quick-witted.