The Emperor's Betrothed Consort

Seventeen

T he next morning, as soon as it was light enough, I checked the bedding. Even though I’d changed quickly after Asahi left, it was still damp. Sleeping in it had been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t stained red. There were a few hints of pink but nothing that would be noticed. Nothing that would let anyone look at me and immediately say, “You killed the imperial heir!”

I had left the damp clothing spread under the bed, and it was mostly dry, so I shoved it in the bottom of my luggage and hoped that it didn’t mildew too badly by the time I needed it again. It wasn’t exactly like I could have the palace wash the clothes I’d used to assassinate Rute and his servants.

No one mentioned anything at breakfast. Asahi stood a few feet closer than normal, and his eyes scanned from window to door to window. I looked around myself, wrinkling my nose.