Chapter 20
Daiyu’s mouth dried up and she gaped like a fish, unable to come up with anything. Muyang was breathing heavy and labored, like he had run all the way here instead of warping, and he staggered forward and grabbed the wooden frame of the bed for support. She instinctively moved toward him. “A-are you okay?”
“Daiyu.” His black eyes were on her again, and this time, they were harder than before, flashing with anger. She shrank back, biting her tongue for even suggesting that he needed help. “What have you done?”
“I—” She swallowed down the fear that made her shiver like a newborn fawn. “I went to see what the ringing bells were about, and that’s when I came upon the room and?—”
“I’m not talking about that.” The dark look was back on his face, seeming more intense than before. “I’m asking what you’ve done with the princeling. Have you conspired with him against me?”
“What? No!” She shook her head and wiped her clammy, trembling hands on her thighs. “I’m not conspiring against you! Please, you have to believe me!”
“Then why were you with him?!” he roared, pushing away from the bed frame. “Why did you need to use magic with him? And on the same day that the traitor was caught? Are you behind all of this?”
“No! No, I’m not! You have to believe me!” Tears of panic stung her eyes and she didn’t care about anything other than saving her neck as she strode over her puddle of vomit laced with bile, and grabbed the front of his black, military-style robes. “Please, Your Majesty. I would never try to conspire against you! I just wanted to see how my family was doing! Please, you have to?—”
Muyang wrenched her hands away from him and drew away from her. “I don’t believe anything you say,” he sneered. Heavy magic seemed to fill the dense air and Daiyu suppressed a sob as he continued to glare at her. “What did you need his magic for?”
If the emperor didn’t believe her, she’d die. Her family would die. Everyone she cared for would die. Maybe even her whole village would be burned down. The morbid thoughts made her whole body feel like it was turning inside out. She couldn’t see anything beyond Muyang and his furious expression.
“I’m telling you!” Her hands quivered and she could barely breathe through the thickening fog between them. “You can use magic to see if I’m lying, or—or something to see if I’m being truthful! Please, I would never do anything against you?—”
Muyang grabbed her face and turned it so she was staring up at him. He didn’t grip her tightly, and yet she shuddered in fear. His breath was warm against her face, like a gentle caress, so unlike the violence he seemed to be teetering toward. “Little rabbit, you’ve displeased me. You should have never used him for whatever you needed. If you’re lying to me?—”
“I’m not,” she interrupted, tears filling up her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
He searched her for answers and she couldn’t stop from crumpling her face in terror. He would kill her, wouldn’t he? There was no reason for him to keep her alive. She was disposable and worthless, and he could find hundreds of women to replace her with.
Finally, Muyang released her. “What did you need his magic for?”
“My family—” She struggled to come up with something coherent, her mind racing. “I wanted to see how they were doing. I haven’t seen them in weeks. My sister—I wanted to see … And, and, and my brothers?—”
“Why did you need his magic for that?”
“I … I don’t know.” Daiyu stared at the jade bracelet wound around her wrist and remembered what Feiyu had told her—that this bracelet would protect her somehow. She wished so badly in that moment for Feiyu to be here, to save her from the emperor’s wrath. “I thought he could help me, so I asked for his help. I didn’t mean to get him in trouble, nor did I intend to invoke your anger. I just wanted to see if my family was doing well; that’s all.”
Muyang continued to stare at her mistrustingly. Daiyu wrung her hands together and breathed through her nose. She didn’t trust herself not to burst into sobs and beg at his feet—something she thought he would take great disgust in.
He exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his face. “I’ll believe you, for now. But”—he turned to her sharply and she couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief as his eyes narrowed—“do not use Yat-sen, or anyone, for their magic. I will not have my woman entertaining different men, asking them for help when you can come to me.”
Daiyu tightened her hold on the bracelet on her wrist and didn’t dare mention how Feiyu had helped her countless times. She mutely bobbed her head.
He looked from her to the vomit on the floor, and then to her stained skirts. His lips curled back in thinly veiled revulsion. “Clean yourself up and don’t irritate me again.”
Muyang turned to leave and Daiyu laced her hands in front of her tightly. He would be leaving in a matter of seconds, and she would be free from his anger. She had somehow survived. She had lived through his anger, even when he suspected her.
But she was about to toss it all away.
She squeaked, “Y-Your Majesty?”
Muyang paused in front of the door and glanced over his shoulder at her. She had been so close to leaving this unscathed, but something continued to bother her and she couldn’t hold herself back.
“I—” She cleared her throat, willing her voice to be stronger as she raised her chin and stared at him levelly. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest and she could feel the sweat collecting at the nape of her neck. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t punish Yat-sen for helping me. He was only doing what I asked him to do, and it’s not his fault. Please.”
In seconds, his expression darkened. The entire room seemed to have stilled, and a loud, whistling wind banged against the shuttered windows. “You beg for me to save that child from punishment?”
“Yes.” Her voice didn’t waver, even as her whole body quivered.
“He knew what the punishment for his crime was when he helped you,” Muyang snarled. He grasped the doorframe of the sliding door and it cracked under pressure, his fingers leaving indents in the now-splintered wood. “I will not spare him. Not even for you.”
“But—”
“Silence!” He treaded toward her and she scrambled back until she slammed into the wall. He was inches away from her and she couldn’t stop from staring up at him with wide, saucer-like eyes. She had never seen him look so infuriated; she was accustomed to seeing a neutral, sometimes maniacal air to him. But not this—not pure fury and animosity that seemed directed at her. “I don’t want you defending worthless scum like him.”
“But he didn’t do anything wrong!”
Muyang’s face morphed into something darker and Daiyu bit her tongue. He slammed his fist above her head, closing her in with his body, but not touching her. She was cornered, unable to turn away—and even if she could, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to escape his ire. “He defied me by using his magic. I will not tolerate anyone defying me in any way.”
Daiyu’s mouth dried up and she wanted to disappear into the wall, away from him and away from this fortress. She wanted to shout at him for being unreasonable, for being a tyrant, and for terrifying her. But she still had some sanity left, so she sealed her lips together and tried not to cry in frustration or fear.
For a moment, they both just stared at each other. The sharp planes of his face appeared unforgiving and harsh, but something in those black, starless eyes seemed to soften. Just for a split second, enough for her to cling onto hope.
“Your Majesty, you aren’t a kind ruler, I know that.” The words spilled from her so quietly that the flickering flames in the sconces almost drowned her away. “You’re powerful and you hate those who oppose you. I don’t want to upset or anger you, but I urge you to forgive him. For my sake, at least.”
Muyang’s eyebrows came together and a soft, musical, and chilling laugh escaped from him. He threw his head back and laughed harder, running a hand over his face. A shiver darted down Daiyu’s spine. Finally, his nasty laugh subsided enough for him to pin her with a brutal, withering stare. “For your sake?” He stepped closer and grasped a tendril of her hair. His knuckles grazed her jaw and she forgot to breathe. He inched closer until they were a hair’s breadth apart. She breathed in deeply, her breasts rising and brushing against his chest. They were too close, and yet there was no intimacy between them. No desire. Nothing but cruelty and fear and hatred.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Muyang tilted his head as he continued to scrutinize her like she was nothing. The darkness in his eyes seemed to encapsulate a wickedness she had never witnessed before, had never dreamed of seeing. “You have no sway over me, Yin Daiyu.”
She should have just remained silent. Should have balked at his intimidation and silently cried at the uselessness she felt at being in his presence. At the fact that, in front of him, she was unable to change her fate. That she was forced to listen to everything he said.
But something inside her cracked. It splintered at the edges of her heart—at her sanity—and she couldn’t hold back her own irritation, frustration, and anger. So much anger.
He was the reason she was even here in the first place. Kidnapped, almost ransomed, with her family’s farm burned to crisps. And he was the one who was cornering her here, making it so she was unable to leave him. He was the bane of her existence, and now he was saying that she didn’t matter?
“Then why keep me here?” Daiyu whispered fiercely, her hands clenching together into tight fists. She stared up at him unabashedly; if she was in court right now, with his trusted advisors surrounding him and the nobles who loved to gossip and sneer so much, she was sure she would be beheaded on the spot for even daring to stare at the emperor in such a hateful way. She didn’t even try to disguise her anger as she spat, “Then why choose me from all those other women? If I really don’t matter to you, if I hold no sway to you, then why keep me here? Why burden me in such a way?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyes widened a fraction of an inch, but she wasn’t sure if it was from surprise or anger or insult. “Do not speak to me in such a manner, woman.” His lips curled back, and she could smell the jasmine and incense on his clothes, mingling with the rusted, iron scent of blood that clung to him like a second skin. A reminder of what he was capable of. That his beauty was only a fa?ade for the violence he carried out. “You are replaceable among the many, many women in my palace. In my empire.”
Daiyu placed her palms on his chest and shoved him, but he didn’t budge. It was like pushing against an impenetrable fortress wall. “Then replace me!” She couldn’t hold back her own rage. Her own hurt ego that felt worthless in front of him. If she was nothing, then why was she even going through this? All this pain and suffering? “Then replace me! Why won’t you discard me if I mean nothing to you?” She tried sliding out from under him, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, slamming her into his hard body.
“Don’t you dare run from me.”
“Unhand me!” She tried yanking away from him, but he held her tighter. “You’re a ruthless monster! I hate you and I hate everything you stand for!”
“Don’t call me that,” Muyang snarled the words like a snapping dragon and she could feel the warmth of his skin, of his flesh pressed against hers, and the intoxicating denseness of the dark magic that surrounded him.
“Toss me aside and let me go!” Daiyu shouted at him, her voice growing shriller as she tried to twist free from his grasp. She hated the feel of his strong body flush against hers, the feel of his strong, lean arms holding her in place, and the way her body reacted. The way warmth pooled in her stomach. The way she wanted to pretend that this was a lovers’ embrace, and not one of mutual distaste. “You hideous, grotesque demon! Free me and let me live my life!”
“I could have you killed for saying that to me.” He breathed into her neck and a shiver tickled her spine—and she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or thrill. His arm tightened around her waist, but not painfully, and he slowly placed his other hand atop her left breast. Heat coursed through her veins, staining her cheeks. “I could rip your heart out for even thinking those words.”
Her chest rose and fell in an erratic rhythm. “You would love to do that, wouldn’t you?” Her own lips curled in hatred, and she couldn’t stop from sneering. “You only love violence, Your Majesty, and I’m sure you’d love to break me.”
“There are many things I would love to do with you, little fiend.” He breathed against her hair, and another shudder ran down her body. “But breaking you is not one of them.”
He finally released her and she staggered forward, her legs weak and her knees wobbling against the other. She whirled around to face him, her balance nearly making her collapse. “Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you let me go?—”
“Because you’re mine.” Muyang was in front of her again, but this time, he didn’t touch her. He only stared at her, his fiery rage seeming to have been stoked into a steady ember. Something dark and thrilling and possessive reflected back against his void-like eyes, and for a moment she wondered about how she could get lost in the blackness of his gaze—at the wickedness that showed the window to his soullessness. “What I decide to do with you is up to me. Whether that is to keep you forever locked within my walls or discard you onto the streets like a pauper. You are mine, and mine alone, Yin Daiyu.”
“I am not an item to be kept or tossed!” She raised her hand to slap him, but he must have known what she was up to because he grabbed her wrist before she could strike. She screamed something incoherent and raised her other hand, but he took hold of that too. “You can’t keep me here forever! I will never be yours!”
“You already are.”
“You—you—you monster!”
He let her go again and this time he strode to the door, seemingly done with this conversation. A frustrated sob ripped from her throat and she wanted to punch something—or someone—and scream loudly for the world to hear. She hated him with all her being, and yet there was something about him that broke something within her. The thought that she was worthless and replaceable stung more than it should have.
“I hate you!” Daiyu shouted through her tears as he slammed the sliding door open. The bamboo panels of the door shook with the force, and when Muyang glared at her from over his shoulder, she was sure he would run forward and do his worst. But he simply left the room, leaving her with nothing but tears and shame and animosity.