Empire’s Curse (Drakkon #1)

Chapter 9

Daiyu was growing more and more bored at the palace. She left her room any chance she got and explored as much of the hallways as she could while staving suspicion, but no matter how many paths she memorized, she was only allowed in the inner palace, which seemed to be deep in the palace and where most of the women were supposedly kept. Anytime she skirted the edges of the inner corridors, her guard would always lead her back inside, never allowing her to venture into the various other parts of the palace.

During the nights, her boredom worsened since she had nowhere to go, and the little activities she was allowed—poetry, books, and writing—were completely useless to her since she couldn’t read or write.

The logs in her hearth in her chambers rumbled to life as a maidservant fed more fuel to them. Daiyu watched the woman with mild interest; she had tried befriending the servants, but they either ignored her or gave her snide looks. Nobody seemed happy to have her here. Which only made her wonder why the emperor was even interested in her.

“Thank you for that,” Daiyu said when the servant backed away from the roaring flames. “The nights grow chilly, so I appreciate it.”

“Of course, my lady,” the woman said quietly, stiffly.

She walked over to the tea table and poured a cup for her. “Would you like your tea now or after you undress, my lady?”

“Now would be fine,” she said, since the lady had already poured the cup. She had already washed all the cosmetics off her face and undid the various hairpins from her hair, so she didn’t need any more help. “What’s your name?”

“My name is of no importance.” The woman placed the tea in front of Daiyu on the table and stepped away, giving a small bow. “If that is all, I’d like to take my leave.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Daiyu tried smiling at the woman, but she was already heading to the door. Her smile faded as the door clicked shut, and she leaned back into her couch, her shoulders slumping. She hadn’t realized how lonely and dark her days and nights would be. She could understand why the servants were so rigid around her—most of the servants came from lesser important noble families—and they likely hated that they had to serve someone who was so beneath them in status. She was just a simple farmer’s daughter. Nobody special, and yet the emperor was bent on propping her up and making her something she wasn’t.

She rubbed her aching temples and reached for her tea. Her hands warmed instantly around the porcelain cup and she brought it to her mouth. It tasted sweet, earthy, and with hints of floral undertones. She sipped it quietly and stared off at the fire, which continued to flicker and bathe the room in an orange glow.

It had been two weeks since Lanfen had left the palace and Daiyu wasn’t any closer to escaping. Thankfully, Muyang seemed to be busy with his own work to even ask for her, and she was eternally grateful for it. But she knew it wouldn’t take long before he called for her again, and she dreaded how that meeting would go. She also hadn’t heard from Feiyu either, which troubled her. Where was he? Why wasn’t he informing her about anything?

Black dotted her vision and she blinked back, her eyebrows coming together in confusion at the sudden surge of exhaustion coursing through her body.

Something … wasn’t right.

Just as she thought that, the back of her throat constricted and she brought a hand to her neck. Her airways tightened and she inhaled sharply, only to feel as though less air was coming through. The cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor, tiny shards splintering in every direction as she stumbled to her feet. She didn’t even notice the sharp pain as she stepped over the broken pottery and tried to make it to the door.

Her vision continued to wane and she croaked, “H-Help?—”

She could barely get the words out.

Her stomach tightened, and salty water filled her mouth. In seconds, she retched on the floor, nearly falling in the process. She held on to the decorative armrest of her couch and heaved in deep breaths, and yet she felt even more breathless.

Was it the tea? Did that servant poison her?

She staggered toward the door, her limbs heavy and her body moving like she was wading through thick syrup. More shadows swamped her vision and her throat closed up even further. Her knees slammed to the hard floor and she barely felt anything as her face cracked against the cold tiles. She clawed at her throat, savoring every tiny wisp of air.

“Help,” she whispered weakly, staring at the door that seemed so far away. It seemed to stretch even farther from her as her vision tunneled.

Everything became blacker, like ink was spilling in her eyes and covering the entirety of her vision. Like a dark curtain was pulling in front of her. And she realized in that haunting moment that she would die right here. Alone, and weak, and unable to do anything.

“Feiyu,” she managed to breathe out, her voice raspy and faint. “Feiyu—help.”

The seconds ticked by and her chest burned. She was like a fish flopping out of water, opening her mouth and trying to breathe. Tears streamed down her stinging eyes, further clouding her vision.

All of a sudden, something rustled in her room—clothing maybe—and she heard a hiss of a curse. She could barely open her eyes as someone rushed toward her, their boots clacking against the floor. Warmth touched her chest and then her mouth, then something cool slipped down her throat.

“Shit, what happened here?” a familiar voice said, but it came out muffled, like there was a screen covering her ears.

The coolness in her throat persisted, and she inhaled sharply as air filled her airways. She continued to breathe in large gulps of air, and it was only then that she took notice of the snarling black and red dragon staring down at her. She suppressed a scream, only to realize it was Feiyu’s mask. He was cradling her in his arms, one hand gently placed on her stomach.

“What … what are you doing here?” she barely managed to squawk, her throat feeling raw and scratchy.

“Saving your life,” he said, his dark eyes boring into her through the sockets in the dragon mask. “You called for me.”

Daiyu’s stomach churned and she grimaced as waves of nausea rolled over her. “I think I was poisoned.”

“It appears like it.” He eyed the broken cup a few feet away from her. “Do you know who did it? Or why?”

She shook her head and her stomach clenched again. “I think—I think I’m going to?—”

She didn’t have time to warn him as she turned her head and emptied the contents of her stomach onto his lap. He stiffened and cursed again while she breathed out shakily, streams of bile and undigested food tracking down her mouth to his thigh.

“S-Sorry,” she muttered.

Feiyu propped her into a sitting position, his gaze locked on the vomit staining his once-pristine emerald robes. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

“I’m sorry,” Daiyu said, her nose crinkling at the sour, fermented scent of her vomit.

He pulled her into his arms in one swoop and rose to his feet. Daiyu stifled a gasp as her hands flew to his broad chest. “Nothing a little water and soap won’t fix,” he grumbled, walking toward her couch.

A blush spread over her face immediately, and she averted his gaze as he carried her. She could feel the lean muscle of his arms and his chest, and there was a sweet scent that came off him that was mostly covered by the smell of her puke.

He gently laid her down on the couch and pulled away from her to inspect her feet, which had small cuts from the sharp slivers of the broken cup she had stepped on. “Who could have done this?” he asked, gently prodding her feet with curious fingers.

She almost retracted herself into a ball at the sudden touch, had she not noticed the green glow emitting from his hand. Almost at once, the imbedded shards pulled free from her feet and plinked to the floor.

“I don’t know.” Daiyu leaned her head into the plush pillows. A cooling and healing sensation covered her feet and she closed her eyes. “I didn’t realize I had enemies here.”

“You suspect the other women?”

“It’s possible?” She remembered her conversation with Jia last week and shuddered. “The other women might be jealous that I was chosen, even though they’ve been here longer. And the emperor hasn’t chosen anyone else yet, so I can only suspect it’s one of them.”

“Hm.” The mage removed his hand from her and her eyes flew open at the now-empty feeling. She wanted to reach forward and ask him to continue his healing touch, but the thought sounded absurd to her ears, and her face flushed with warmth. What was wrong with her?

“W-Well.” She cleared her sore throat. “I’d like to at least find the maid who gave me the tea. Is there any way you can track her? Like with magic?”

Feiyu nodded slowly, and through the holes of the mask, she could make out a scar on his eyelid. “I can try, but it might take me some time, since many people come and go into your room. What does she look like?”

“Tall.” She tried remembering more of the maid, but the woman had kept her head low for most of their interaction. “She was very thin, and I think she had a mole above her eyebrow.”

“Are you sure she didn’t paint the mole on herself?”

“Why … why would she do that?”

He shrugged. “The palace maids follow fashion trends, and that is a current trend among the noble ladies. Nonetheless, I will be on the lookout for the maid.”

“Thank you,” she said, and her throat closed up at the near-death experience. “For … for also saving my life.”

“I’ve neutralized the poison in your body, so you should be fine in a few hours.”

“I said thank you,” she said again.

This time, he chuckled, his broad chest rumbling with the motion. “Don’t mention it. It makes me feel awkward.”

“Why? Because you did something heroic?”

“Saving a damsel in distress? I am a hero, aren’t I? I suppose I should bask in this feeling for longer. It appears you’re indebted to me once again.” There was a teasing quality in his voice and Daiyu wanted to laugh along with him, but she found she was bone-weary and unable to muster even a short giggle. So she only smiled, hoping he understood her sentiment.

Her limbs felt heavy and she could only lie there. “I don’t like being indebted to a mage.”

“I’m not going to steal your soul or anything.” His gaze suddenly became serious and his voice dropped an octave. “You know that, right?”

She wondered briefly if he was frowning beneath his mask, but she found she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to face whatever expression he wore because she was certain it was a tender one. Daiyu coughed and asked instead, “Did Lanfen make it back safe? I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long and if I had known it was this easy to summon you, I would have called for you much earlier.”

“Always the caring sister,” he tutted, taking a step away from her to inspect his ruined clothes. “She’s safe and back home. I would have told you sooner, but I’ve been busy. There is an uprising, you know, so everyone here is swamped with work. And more so me, since I work directly under His Majesty.”

There had been quite a few revolts since Muyang took over the empire four years ago, and although he had quelled them, they kept recurring, and some people were calling for the MuRong princes to take their rightful place on the throne.

In the midst of her boring palace stay, it was easy to forget that Feiyu had other things to do than to cater to her plans of escape. Deep down, she knew that, but considering how she had nothing else to focus on but herself, it was hard to realize that she was likely just a small smidge of a thought to him. And for some reason, she didn’t like that.

Shaking her head from those thoughts, she rested a hand on her clammy forehead. “Do you think there’s a way to make the emperor forget all about me?”

Feiyu tilted his head. “You wish to erase yourself from his memory?”

“It’s the only way I can think of where he’ll leave me alone,” she said. “I’ve tried to think of how to escape, but even if I leave, it won’t change that he knows where to find me and my family. Who’s to say he won’t murder us all for denying him? He’s known to be bloodthirsty and insane—” Her lips curled into a sneer as she said those words, and the memory of Muyang’s dark eyes on her as he placed the dagger on her throat surfaced. She shivered and held her arms closer to herself. “It’s the only way I can leave without much of a trace.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

She jerked her head up. “What?”

“I can’t do that.” He shook his head and took another step back, creating more distance between them. “I can help you with many things, but treason isn’t one of them. I think you’ve forgotten that I work directly under His Majesty. Tampering with his memories is one of the greatest acts of betrayal and I refuse to take part in it.”

Daiyu’s chest tightened with his words and even though what he was saying wasn’t wrong, per se, it stung to hear his refusal. It was also another door shutting for her escape plan, and she felt even more confined than before. As if she were a small bird stuck in a gilded, beautiful cage.

“W-Well … that’s unfortunate.” The tremor in her voice betrayed her hurt and disappointment, and she stared at the streaks of red on his dragon-mask that appeared too much like blood. Too much like Muyang’s cursed reign. “Will you be reporting this to His Majesty?”

Feiyu clasped his hands behind his back and Daiyu held her breath as he paused to answer her. “Which part? The poisoning or the potential thoughts of treason?”

“Both.” Her throat felt tight once more, and it wasn’t because of the poison this time, but because she had foolishly thought to trust this man for a moment. She couldn’t forget that he worked under His Majesty, and for all she knew, would conspire against her if she did anything out of line. Like even thinking of tinkering with the emperor’s memories of her.

Feiyu was quiet for a moment too long. “I will inform him about your poisoning, as is my duty, but I won’t mention anything else.”

“And how will you explain how you came across me?” With how her last meeting with Muyang had gone, she was sure he still held some wariness toward her, and he would likely find it very suspicious that she was in contact with his head mage.

“I’ll say I found you in the hallway outside your room nearly choking on your own vomit.”

“A wonderful picture that paints,” she grumbled. “Can’t you just not tell him?”

He canted his head. “Why would you not want him to know?”

“I don’t want him …” Daiyu laughed at where her thoughts were carrying her. Was she stupid enough to think that Muyang would be worried about her if he heard she was poisoned? She doubted it, especially after he had turned a blade on her. “I don’t want him to even think about me. I have no need for his attention and I’d rather be someone he quickly forgets.”

“Unfortunately, since there was a threat to your life, I must tell him.” He almost sounded apologetic.

Silence stretched between them until Daiyu motioned to the door. “I’d like to rest for a bit, if you don’t mind, and I’m sure you’d like to clean up.”

He placed a hand on his chest and lowered his head. “I understand. Good night, Daiyu.”

She opened her mouth to tell him the same, but before she could even blink, he vanished.