A Forgery of Fate

by Elizabeth Lim

Demon turds,

Nomi was bamboo, Falina was plum, and I was pine. In spite of the cold, these trees didn’t just survive; they thrived. A way of reminding us to be strong.

“All these weeks we’ve been eating cabbage dumplings, and you’ve been hoarding two hundred jens?” It was a weak attempt at a joke, but it got Fal to smile. A little. “I still want silk slippers.” “With those ridiculous upturned toe caps?” I laughed quietly. “You’re the vainest girl I’ve ever met.” “Joy on the feet rises to the heart. Happiness is expensive.”

“You trampled my rosebushes,” he thundered. “You dragged your filthy shoes across my shrubs and befouled the air with your presence. If you think you can trespass onto my property, destroy my roses, and simply walk free”—he drew tall, blocking me from the path—“you are mistaken, krill.” “Krill?” I echoed. “That’s what you’ll soon be, for stealing.” First fertilizer, now food for his turtle. This Demon Prince was delusional.

Elang’anmi, the phoenix had called him. ’Anmi was an honorific, which meant his name was Elang. A soft, musical name. It didn’t fit him. He looked more like a Zhagar or a Yangonin—Balardan for “reaper of misfortune.”

“You shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said tightly. “It is medicine,” Elang spoke up. “And we aren’t strangers.”

Features belonging to a man who’d clearly received an extra moment of the gods’ attention.

“No wonder everyone hates demons,” I muttered, twisting the band off my finger. I sealed it inside the lacquered contract box. “At this rate, I might despise Shani more than Elang.”

But he’ll also be curious about you. My wife.” My wife. Even the sun couldn’t keep me from feeling cold.

“Because I know what it’s like to want something impossible.

How it keeps you up at night when everyone else is sleeping, and it ticks in your mind and haunts your every thought.”

“Fortune finds those who leap.”

“The gods have been generous in this lifetime, to bless me with such a clever and beautiful bride.” He was still holding—no, incarcerating—my hand.

you don’t come,” I said, twisting off my ring, “I’m going to grill your opal over the fire. See how you like sleeping on coals.” “Manipulative and extortionate.” Shani’s mouth quirked. “I respect it.”

A story I’d best leave to your Elangui.” My Elangui.

“It’s merfolk tradition to plant flowers for someone you love. They say if you present them during the Luminous Hour, your love is sure to be returned.”

“Or butterflies,” he said, his voice growing faint. “We made a good team, you and I. We’d have flown well together.”

“Just kiss me, you fiend.” I took him by the collar, drawing his lips to mine. “I always fancy noodles.”