Chapter 11
Daiyu must have heard wrong. Did he want her to … go into the pond? She tried to smile to distill the growing discomfort in her chest and laughed nervously. “Your Majesty?”
“Walk.” Muyang gestured her forward, and every instinct in her body told her to run far, far away from him. From the morbid curiosity on his face.
Daiyu pressed her heels into the grass beneath her feet and gripped the edge of the bench tightly. “Your Majesty, I don’t think?—”
“Walk.”
She flinched and knew that she couldn’t talk her way out of it. He was serious, and he was watching her as if waiting for her to fail. And it was only then that she noticed the dagger strapped to his waist, with its dragon design and its beaded, ruby eye. Her shoulders trembled, and she looked between him and the pond, wanting for him to tell her he was jesting.
But he didn’t.
Muyang didn’t blink. “Yin Daiyu, are you refusing to obey me?”
She forced herself to her feet and a strong, cool wind ripped through her hair, sending more tremors over her body. Her gaze flicked to the rest of the garden, where the winding paths would lead to safety, but within these palace walls he owned, there was nowhere that was safe.
Daiyu took a step closer to the brink of the pond. She could make out the dark gray rocks beneath the surface, and now that she was even closer to it, it appeared deeper than it did earlier. Red, white, and orange fish slithered and wove through the smooth and jutted stones. Her only consolation when she slipped off her shoes and brought a foot into the water was that it was surprisingly warm, or warmer than she thought it would be.
She spared a glance over her shoulder at the emperor, but he was watching her coolly, not appearing at all like he would tell her to stop. Her lips pressed together in a firm line and she spun her head away from him. She hated this humiliation and being forced to do something like this.
Muyang didn’t say anything when the water reached her hips. She shivered at the dropping temperature the deeper she went. The rocks were smooth and slippery, and she feared she would slide if she went any farther. She didn’t actually want to drown, and she doubted he wanted her dead right then and there.
She turned back to him, her eyebrows pulled together. “Your Majesty, how much more?”
“Keep walking.”
Daiyu bunched her fists together and wanted to shout at him, but when he raised his eyebrow, she twisted around and went forward. Never mind the fact that she knew how to swim—but he didn’t know that. And most women in his court, she assumed, didn’t know how to. So was he expecting her to actually drown herself for him? It was absurd, and he seemed to enjoy degrading her in such a manner.
Would she have to walk back to her room, dripping water everywhere, with servants snickering and gossiping behind her back? The thought made her cheeks warm and she decided she hated Drakkon Muyang, and she needed to escape from his clutches as soon as she could.
The pond grew colder the deeper she went, and at one moment, her foot slipped and she fully submerged into the water. The coldness sent a shock through her system and she bobbed up to the surface, inhaling sharply and kicking her legs and arms to keep herself afloat. Icy water streamed down her face and she blinked rapidly against the late afternoon sun. She shifted her attention to Muyang, who hadn’t moved from his position on the bench and watched her with mild curiosity. She couldn’t even bask in triumph at letting him realize she knew how to swim, for fear that he would force her to do something outrageous—like sink underwater, or hold her breath for as long as she could.
He didn’t say anything and only stared at her, his expression neutral, and when the minutes ticked by without an order from him, Daiyu grew braver. “Your Majesty,” she said, unable to keep the irritation from her voice, “do you wish for me to keep floating like this or to actually dive into the water and drown? If it’s the latter, I hate to inform you that I have no plans of dying”—even for you, she omitted—“and I would very much appreciate being allowed to get out.”
She waited for him to either lash out or laugh, but he did neither. He waved his hand forward as if uninterested by her response. “I’ll grant it.”
Before he could change her mind, she quickly swam to the bench and stepped out of the pond. A gust of wind blew over her and she quivered in the cold. Her dress clung to her every curve and she covered her breasts with her hands for fear that he could see too much. Her teeth chattered and she lowered her head. “Please allow me to go back to my room, Your Majesty.”
“No.”
She jerked her head up. No?
“Daiyu.” Her name rolled off his tongue so easily, and she trembled. His gaze darkened as he stared up at her. “I have a few questions that have been bothering me about you. If you can answer them, I’ll be satisfied.”
She dug her elbows into her sides and hugged herself tighter, her lips quivering as another kind of cold overtook her body. This one more frigid than any body of water.
Did he realize she had been lying to him? Did Feiyu mention that she wanted to wipe her from his memories?
“Yes, Your Majesty?” she squeaked.
He propped his elbow on the armrest of the bench and tilted his head against his closed fist. There was a shift in his mood because the energy all around him seemed to dampen and darken. She couldn’t explain it any other way than that it seemed like a darkness cloaked him.
It was then that she became aware that she was staring down at him, and she quickly dropped herself to her knees and pressed her hands onto the grass. She couldn’t hide the tremor that wracked through her thin frame.
Muyang sighed, and she winced, waiting for him to snap.
“Daiyu, lift your head.”
She did as she was told and peered up at him. He was only a foot away from her, and yet he appeared all too close. All too powerful, and much too indifferent.
“Why did you switch places with your sister?”
She licked her wet lips and tasted the briny, iron tang of the pond water. “My sister is too young and she—” She lowered her gaze, swallowing down the dryness of her throat. “She loved another, so I took her place so she could be with her true love.”
It was a simple lie, one of many she had told him at this point. But it was the only thing she could think of without making herself out to be a sister-stepping, ambitious girl. Although it would probably do well for her to have him think negatively of her—and thus cast her aside—for some odd reason, she had a feeling that if she did that, he would kill her for a petty reason. Like tricking him into thinking she was something she wasn’t.
“How noble,” he said dryly.
“I didn’t think I would be chosen,” Daiyu murmured. “Especially since … you haven’t chosen anyone before.”
Muyang’s face seemed to be carved from stone as he looked down at her, as unreadable as he was moments ago. “Li Jia told me that when she first saw you, you were holding a basket and told her you were doing laundry for the women in the Lotus wing. Why were you pretending to be a servant?”
“I was lost and needed help to get back to the Lotus wing.” Her lips quivered and it took everything in her to hold his gaze, to tell him she was truthful when she wasn’t.
“How did you leave the Lotus wing without anyone noticing? There are guards posted everywhere.”
Her hands grew clammy and she tightened her hold on the grass. “I slipped out when they didn’t notice.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Because …” Daiyu’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Because I was hungry and wanted to eat something in the kitchens.”
“But you have plenty of food in the Lotus wing. Calling a servant to bring you something to eat is easy to do.” His eyes seemed to darken even further, and she squirmed beneath that oppressive stare. She felt like a butterfly whose flimsy wings were pinned down and who aggressively tried to break free but was unable to.
She wanted to vomit. This felt infinitely worse than when she had been poisoned and dying, because here, she was under the careful eye of an executioner.
She chose her next words carefully, the lies rolling off her tongue easily. “The other women don’t like me much, so they don’t … they don’t like when I call for things. Like food, or assistance, and the maids don’t like me much either, since I come from a poor family. I’m much worse off than any of the other girls, so no one wanted to … to tend to me.”
His silence was deafeningly loud, and she wanted to sprint away from him, to lose herself in the palace halls, scream for Feiyu to warp her out, and to disappear from him forever. And yet she was still a bird trapped in a gilded cage, and if he chose to clip her wings or wring her neck and replace her, he could do just that.
“I see.” Muyang continued to examine her coolly. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
Daiyu shook her head, the color draining from her face. “No, Your Majesty.”
“Very well.” He reached toward his waist and she jumped when he pulled out his dragon dagger—the same blade he had pinned to her neck—but instead of running her through, he held it out to her, hilt first.
Daiyu stared at the weapon dumbly.
“Take it.”
She wordlessly took it from him, her fingers wrapping around the metal handle. She placed it on her lap tentatively and watched him carefully, expecting him to do something sinister. When he did nothing, she murmured, “Thank you?”
“Keep it for now until I come back for you. It’s important to me, so don’t lose it.” Muyang drummed his fingers on the armrest of the bench. She still couldn’t get a read on him, and even though his words seemed safe, she was on high alert. “I’ll be gone to the north tomorrow and won’t be back for a few weeks. Months, if this rebellion isn’t quelled soon enough.”
“You will fight in the war?”
Something gleamed in his eyes as he laughed, and she inched back at the crudeness of it. “I have enemies to kill, and I’d hate for someone else to do that favor. So yes, little rabbit, I plan on fighting.”
Little rabbit.
She disliked the nickname and the way he said it—like she was a quivering, sniveling rabbit absolutely terrified out of her mind in his presence. And yet it seemed fitting, she thought bitterly as she lowered her gaze to the blade on her lap.
He grasped her chin and forced her to look up at him. His hands were cool to the touch and he didn’t seem to mind the dampness of her skin. “I wanted to see you before I left.”
It would’ve sounded romantic, if not for the humiliation he had caused her. If not for the fact that she was dripping wet, and that the winds were making her even colder, and that the dropping temperature as the sun dipped along the horizon made her teeth clatter together. If not for the fact that he could kill her and nobody would bat an eyelash.
Muyang studied her face like he was searching for something and released her promptly. She didn’t know if he was satisfied with her or not, but she couldn’t turn away from him. Not when he could still attack her. She needed to see his every move, even if she couldn’t do anything about it.
“I … I pray that you will be victorious,” she said carefully.
“When I come back, we will marry,” he said noncommittally. The waning sunlight glinted off the gold crown keeping his hair together and Daiyu squinted against the glare. “I’m hoping to arrive before the Autumn Festival.”
Daiyu tried to hide the shudder that ran down her spine. He still wanted to marry her? She didn’t understand why. Especially when he had so many other beautiful, willing women in the palace ready for him. And yet he chose her.
She hated him for it.
“I hope your campaign goes well and that you return promptly.” The words left her mouth in a detached manner like someone else saying it and not her. “I pray that the Huo empire is successful in quelling these treasonous rebellions.”
Muyang’s eyes narrowed and another chill rattled her bones. Before she could surmise what he was thinking, he beckoned her forward with a single finger. “Come here.”
Daiyu rose to her feet, dagger in hand, and shuffled closer to him. Her ruined, dripping clothes stuck to her uncomfortably and she hated the squelching feeling of her water-wrinkled toes plodding the grass. She stopped a foot away from him, and his fingers grazed her stomach gently. She nearly tripped backward, but he grabbed her elbow as if anticipating it.
“W-What—” Her face flushed with unexpected warmth and embarrassment, but before she could say anything else, he drew his hand away, and a trail of grimy water suspended into the air between them. Daiyu watched, transfixed, as the pond water was extracted from her dress in thin streams, culminating into a ball in his open palm. It took less than ten seconds for all the water to be pulled from her dress and even her hair. He flicked a hand and the ball of muddied water splatted against the ground.
Daiyu’s mouth was still shaped like an O even after he finished. She shouldn’t have been that shocked, considering how rumors said he was part demon or part dragon, but seeing it happen with her own eyes made the stories even more true.
“You seem surprised,” Muyang said with a short chuckle. “Did you think I would be cruel enough to make you walk the palace halls looking like a drowned rat while the servants and nobles mocked you?”
Daiyu wouldn’t have put it past him to do exactly that, but she shook her head. “I didn’t think that low of you, Your Majesty.”
“Good.” He clambered to his feet, and Daiyu was once again taken aback by his impressive height. He towered over her and she felt even smaller to be so close to him.
“I will wait for your return.” She took a step back, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. She thumbed the dragon’s face on the dagger distractedly. “I … I do have a request before you leave, Your Majesty.”
Muyang turned to leave but then paused and glanced down at her with raised eyebrows. “Oh?”
“I-I … I hope it isn’t too impudent of me to ask … but …” She lowered herself into a bow. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing and she held her breath in case he did anything to her for even making a request. “But I was hoping you could dismiss the rest of the women in the palace and allow them to go back to their homes.”
This time, she held her breath and didn’t dare look up at him. After her poisoning, there was no way she could peacefully stay in the palace whilst her potential murderer was waiting in the Lotus wing. It was possible that the women would grow bolder in Muyang’s absence, and Daiyu couldn’t risk another incident like before.
“Are you jealous of them?”
She jerked her face up to find him with his head angled to the side, his gold earrings catching in the light, and a curious smirk playing on his lips. Amusement seemed to dance in the depths of his richly black eyes. And once again she was struck at how painfully beautiful he was and how dangerous of a trap that was.
Daiyu couldn’t tell him the truth—that she didn’t trust the other women—but maybe it was better this way? For him to think she wanted him? Would that make him less suspicious of her? She wasn’t entirely sure what the correct course to take was, but she nodded slowly.
He tipped his head back and laughed, and Daiyu froze. She wasn’t sure if this was the foretelling of something cruel or something favorable for her. When he turned to look at her, there was a twinkle in his eyes that told her he wasn’t furious, so she finally cracked a smile.
“Very well,” he said in his velvety voice. “I’ll have them dismissed tonight. Will that please you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then consider it done.”
Even though he grinned as he said it, a shudder ran through Daiyu’s body. Whether he would follow through or not was the bigger question. She tightened her hold on his dagger and lowered her head for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”