CHEEKY: They’re up near the front.
CHEEKY points toward the steps of the palace, where AKRA and CAMREON lurk half hidden behind the statue of a dragon. LEO shakes his head.
LEO: I meant Xavier.
CHEEKY: Oh. Not yet. But—
Before she can finish her sentence, a shout rings out across the plaza.
AUDRINNE: Vive les Chakratans! Vive les Chakratans!
A ripple goes through the crowd as a carriage arrives, all polished ebony and gold detailing. BERTRAND AUDRINNE himself stands in the driver’s seat, wearing not a plantation suit but an old armée uniform, and chanting with the élan of someone half his age.
The crowd parts, cheering, as the horses stride to the center of the plaza. AUDRINNE reaches out as he sees familiar faces in the crowd.
AUDRINNE: Charles, so good to see you again. Albert, how is your cousin? Send her my best.
As AUDRINNE shakes hands, AKRA nudges CAMREON. Then he points to the back of the carriage, where a small boy stares out with frightened eyes.
AKRA: What kind of fool brings his child to a fight?
CAMREON: He might not expect a fight.
AKRA: Then he’s forgotten his time in the armée.
AKRA jerks his chin toward the rooftop of the Ruby Palace, where guards in red peer over the upswept eaves. Here and there, the afternoon sun glints off the barrels of their rifles. But CAMREON shakes his head.
CAMREON: I think he remembers it too well. The armée he knew would never hurt an Aquitan.
Reaching the steps, AUDRINNE yanks the reins, and the horses bluster as the carriage rolls to a stop. Turning to scan the crowd, AUDRINNE raises a hand to quell the chanting.
AUDRINNE: My compatriots! My fellows! My friends. It gives me heart to stand with you today!
A scattered cheer goes up, but AUDRINNE brings his hand to his chest.
How I wish it were under better circumstances.
The crowd mutters as AUDRINNE draws a paper from his pocket. Unfolding it, he shows it to the crowd: the deportation decree.
“All foreigners must report to the capital for deportation.” Simple words for a rallying cry. But as a policy, so hard to understand. What is a foreigner, here in Nokhor Khat, where an Aquitan fort guards the harbor and our armée guards her people? What is a foreigner when most of Chakrana’s business is done through Aquitans, and Aquitan currency is used? I may have been born in Aquitan, but I have lived in Chakrana for more years than the Boy King has been alive. I am more familiar with the paddies than the plaza of Lephare. Can I truly be called a foreigner?
AUDRINNE pauses for the crowd to answer. Their responses drift to his waiting ears—“No!” Then he returns to the flyer.
“All foreigners must report to the capital.” But who are we to report to? The palace is shut tight, and the Boy King has refused any audiences. Perhaps because he knows he cannot explain his decree. I would ask him, am I a foreigner? Are we?
AUDRINNE points at his friends in the crowd.
Charles—you work in imports. You provide jobs at your warehouses, not to mention brandy and fine clothing to all of us locals. Albert, you own several silk plantations in the mountains, and the economy there relies on your business. And in La Sucrier, my fields and my wife are waiting for me to come home.
The thought makes the crowd stir again. Not all of them have lived in Chakrana as long as AUDRINNE, but they have all carved a place for themselves here—some of them with knives. As AUDRINNE looks out over their heads, he catches sight of LEO.
What of the moitié? Is he a foreigner too? Where will he go?
AUDRINNE points, and the crowd turns to gawk at him. LEO stiffens, putting his head down, but CAMREON has already seen him. He swears under his breath.
AKRA: You can say that again.
Standing on tiptoe, he meets CHEEKY’s eye across the crowd and mouths the words.
Go back to the theater!
CHEEKY replies with the same exaggerated expressions.
CHEEKY: Make me!
Now AKRA is the one to swear. CAMREON waves him off.
CAMREON: Go. Get them out of here.
AKRA nods, pushing through the crowd and working his way around the square. But AUDRINNE has already turned back to his audience.
How can any of us be foreigners when we are a vital part of Chakrana? How can the Boy King expect us to abandon our responsibilities? Chakrana depends on us. Our businesses, our management, our money. If we go back to Aquitan, it all goes with us! And so I stand with you, to declare our right to stay.
The crowd murmurs as AUDRINNE draws the silver pistol from his belt, and the afternoon sun gleams on the epaulets on his old uniform.
And if the Boy King thinks otherwise, he must tell us to our faces why we do not belong!
Marching up the steps of the Ruby Palace, AUDRINNE uses the butt of the gun to knock on the door. The sound echoes in the hall beyond, but there is no answer from inside.
Meanwhile, AKRA continues around the restless crowd, as CAM checks his pocket once again for the pen filled with blood.
The crowd too is waiting for the Boy King. AUDRINNE raises his pistol and knocks again. As he steps back, the door begins to creak open at last. The crowd presses closer, but it is GENERAL LEGARDE who steps out from the palace.
LEO’s face goes pale. He grabs CHEEKY’s hand.
LEO: That’s Xavier.
When AUDRINNE sees LEGARDE, the man smiles tightly.
AUDRINNE: General. I am Lieutenant Bertrand Audrinne, and I am here to see the king.
LEGARDE looks at him with bright blue eyes, and his voice is pitched to carry over the crowd.
LEGARDE: The king is not accepting visitors. Now please. All Aquitans must report to the Prix de Guerre.
The crowd mutters, and AUDRINNE is taken aback. LEO’s own face falls, though it is hard to tell if he is disappointed or relieved.
LEO: No . . . not Xavier.
CHEEKY: How can you tell?
LEO: His accent. Xavier’s own Aquitan
