Empire’s Curse (Drakkon #1)

Chapter 28

By the time Daiyu returned to the palace, her head was so stuffed with pointless, scathing gossip that she had to rest on her couch to process it all. The only useful information she learned was that once noblewomen began gossiping, their lips became loose enough to spill about everything. Even something as small as what so-and-so ate for lunch, and where, and how terrible it was. And despite everything she had learned, nothing stood out as to who could be behind Daiyu’s multiple life-and-death situations. It could very well be every single noble lady who was connected to Muyang—and there were many women, apparently.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Daiyu lifted her arm from over her eyes and peeked at Nikator, who stood by her doorway, appearing unsure of what to do. She had almost forgotten the youth had accompanied her back here.

“My head feels like it’s going to burst.” She rubbed her temples and sat upright so she was in a more appropriate sitting position—another thing she had learned about noble ladies was how important it was to carry herself. Considering how Nikator was one of Muyang’s trusted warriors, it probably was wise to act in a respectable manner.

“Too much gossip for one day?” Nikator grinned.

She groaned and resisted the urge to flip back down on the couch. “You have no idea. I didn’t think it was possible to talk so much about nothing.”

“I didn’t think lady Jia was into much gossip,” he mused, shifting on his feet and crossing his lean arms over his chest. “She’s always been a chatterbox, as opposed to her husband, General Liang Fang, but she’s not one to gossip incessantly. But maybe I read her wrong.”

“No, it was mostly Lady Eu-Meh who gossiped.”

“That sounds more in line with her personality.” Nikator eyed her carefully and frowned. “Anyway, are you still up for going into the gardens later this afternoon to see the princesses? You don’t look like you want to entertain any more chitchat. We can always wait until next week.”

She was already shaking her head before he finished. There was no way she was going to push her meeting with the princesses aside, not when she hadn’t learned anything fruitful this morning. She was more determined than ever to find a culprit or two to focus on instead of the looming threat and trouble this entire union would bring.

“I’ll be fine after resting my eyes for a bit,” she said, smoothing down her navy blue skirts. “Do you think you’ll still be able to escort me?”

“Of course.” He raised a dark red eyebrow. “What kind of guard would I be if I’m only conditional?”

“Well, you technically are conditional, aren’t you? Until Vita comes to the palace, I mean.”

“I think the term temporary is more suitable.”

An awkward silence filled the void between them as Daiyu’s mind traveled to other topics—particularly what it meant to be Muyang’s wife. She frowned and spread her hands over her thighs to flatten the creases that had formed when she was crumpled on the couch like a curled noodle. She hadn’t realized how clammy her hands were until that moment.

“Um, Nikator?” She smoothed down a particular crease, avoiding eye contact as she zeroed in on it. “You’ve been with His Majesty for a long while, right? So you’ve likely learned bits and pieces of his personal life, right?”

There was a pause and a shift. “Yes.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. He was now staring at her strangely, like he had his guard up. He probably thought she was going to ask something incredibly threatening. Like Muyang’s weaknesses or his darkest secrets. He stood expectantly, his broad shoulders stiff and his bright blue eyes narrowed in expectancy.

“So you know about his love life, yes?”

He blinked. “Um. Sort of.”

“How does he treat his lovers?”

If that was the question he was expecting, he surely didn’t act like he knew it was coming. Nikator rubbed the nape of his neck. “I’m not really sure. His Majesty keeps his personal life personal. I’ve never met any of the women he was involved with … until you.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be happy about that or not. She should have felt special upon hearing that, but it only made her anxiety gnaw at the pit of her stomach even more. Because there was nothing inherently different or special about her to make her stand out, so why was she treated differently than the other women? What was Muyang’s aim with her? Why weren’t the other women “good enough” for him to marry?

“Has he ever been in love?” she blurted out without thinking better.

Nikator pursed his lips together and seemed to think on it for a few minutes. Time ticked by slowly, and the more he seemed to ponder, the less sure Daiyu became of anything.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered with a shrug.

“Oh.” Another red banner that screamed that something must have been wrong with him if he never loved before.

Nikator studied her carefully, and she could see the cogs in his brain grinding to a stuttering stop. “You don’t … look happy to hear that? I thought women swooned at the idea of being the first love.”

“I’m really not sure what to think of”—she gestured toward the room, looking at nothing in particular before sighing and slumping over the couch—“any of this. I’m not used to this kind of life and I’m not sure if I’m suited for it either. I’m just trying to figure it all out, you know?”

He bobbed his head, but she could tell he didn’t understand what she was saying. He must have lived such a difficult and different life than her—first as a slave, and now as a personal warrior to the emperor himself. He must have known what she was going through to some extent, but at the same time, he likely saw her troubles as trivial.

“Maybe you can figure it all out later.” He lifted his shoulders and she could tell he was trying to be helpful, but it fell flat. The sheepish grin he shot her told her as much.

Daiyu picked up one of the embroidered, tasseled pillows and hugged it tightly as she leaned forward. All of this was so confusing. Marrying Muyang, the villainous emperor of all people. Finding the person trying to take her life. Managing courtly affairs. Even thinking about the future … These were things she would have loved to talk to Lanfen about and bounce ideas so she knew she was doing the right thing. But she had no council here, no one whose words she could trust as being in her best interest.

“When do you think His Majesty will be back?” she asked.

“War takes time.”

“Sometimes. But what would you say?”

“When did His Majesty say he would be back?”

“He didn’t—” She paused. He had mentioned it at some point, didn’t he? “I think he said he’d be back by the Autumn Festival?”

“Then he’ll be back by then.”

“That’s not help—” She sighed and shook her head. “Never mind, Nikator.”

Daiyu rubbed her head where the hairpins and hair jewelry were pulling her hair tightly back, the tension loosening with each circular massage. “Can you give me some privacy for about twenty or so minutes? I’d like to freshen up before we head out.”

“Certainly.” He gave a small bow and left the room swiftly, leaving her alone to her tumultuous thoughts.

Daiyu traipsed through the garden for what felt like hours but must’ve been thirty minutes at most. She peeked over trees and rose bushes, trying her hardest to catch a glimpse of the mysterious princesses, but despite it being their day to stroll through the gardens, she and Nikator hadn’t come across them yet. She was even allowed to enter the parts of the garden that she wasn’t allowed to before—all because Nikator was escorting her, and the guards seemed to want nothing to do with him—but her efforts seemed to be futile.

“Maybe they weren’t allowed outside today?” Nikator pondered as Daiyu stepped toward a greenish-blue pond with red and white koi fish and silver scaled carps swimming beneath its softly rippling surface.

Daiyu crossed her arms over her chest and stared into her reflection. The muggy summer heat was a contrast to the weather she had become accustomed to in the wintry northern state of Geru.

“Maybe,” she said at last, turning away from the pond. “But these gardens are huge. Are you sure we’ve looked everywhere?”

“Not everywhere.” The wind tousled Nikator’s scarlet hair and in the sunlight, his eyes appeared like sparkling blue gems. “These are the only parts of the gardens they’re allowed in.”

“And these are the south gardens, correct?”

“Yes.”

They passed by statues of dragons and cranes surrounded by clusters of tall lavender shrubs and an old, moss-ridden statue of a half-crescent moon. Daiyu paused by the statues to inspect the small details on the crane’s feathers and the shiny scales on the dragons, when something brushed against her ankle, startling her. She jerked to the side, only to find a slate-gray, short-haired cat rubbing against her feet with its tail held up high.

“Oh, my.” Daiyu breathed a sigh of relief—it was only a cat. Kneeling down, she ran her hand over the cat’s head, and it obliged, pushing its soft face and whiskers against her open palm. “You scared me there! I thought you were some sort of monster.”

Nikator eyed the cat with a strange expression. “It has a ribbon around its neck.”

Sure enough, a purple silk ribbon was tied around its neck, accentuating the sharp green of its feline eyes. Daiyu continued to pet the animal, a small smile tugging on her lips. “Back home, we have a few farm cats that keep the rodents at bay. None of them let me pet them, but that didn’t stop me from trying.” She tapped the hanging pouch on the cat’s stomach. “I can tell that someone is taking care of you.”

Nikator’s frown deepened. “There’s only one person who?—”

“Jade, Jade! Where are you?”

The cat’s ears perked at the distant, female voice, and Daiyu turned just in time to see a young woman barreling through the lavender bushes, leaves and flower petals sticking out from her long, wavy hair. She nearly stumbled at Nikator’s feet, the braids framing her face swishing forward and the streaming, lilac-colored ribbons brushing against his leather boots. She raised her head while he stared down at her, both of them appearing dumbfounded.

The moment was broken when the cat meowed softly, and the woman turned to the cat, her eyes widening in obvious relief. “Jade!” she cried out, scrambling toward the cat.

Daiyu smiled at the woman’s unexpected entrance. “Is this your cat?”

“Yes! She escaped from my arms just seconds ago, and I was worried she’d get lost,” she said, her voice soft and wobbly as she scooped the cat into her trembling arms. She cast a quick glance at Nikator, swallowed, and lowered her head. “F-Forgive me if I’m interrupting?—”

“Biyu! Biyu!”

“Princess!”

Seconds later, two guards with their hands closed tightly around their spears appeared from where the woman had come from. Another young woman trailed behind them, the front pieces of her hair tied in small buns on the sides of her head, while the rest of her billowing, thin hair fell down her back.

“Princess Biyu!” The guard, a salt-and-pepper bearded man, narrowed his eyes and huffed loudly in exasperation. “You can’t run off like that. You know that?—”

“I know.” The woman hugged the cat closer to her body, her thin shoulders folding inward. “Sorry?—”

“You’re not allowed to go astray from the path,” the other guard said sharply.

“Biyu—” The other woman’s sour expression stilled when she took sight of Nikator, and all the color promptly drained from her face like she had seen a blood-sucking demon. She hastily averted her gaze.

The younger of the two guards stepped forward and grabbed the young woman, Biyu, by her bicep and yanked her forward roughly. “Come on, keep walking?—”

“Let her go,” Daiyu interrupted, a steely edge to her tone. “There’s no need for you to be so violent with her.”

“She’s not supposed to be here,” the man replied with curled lips. As if to emphasize his point, he pulled her even harder, making the young woman grimace. “It’s best if you don’t interfere?—”

“I said, let her go.” Daiyu balled her fists together. She didn’t like the way this man was pulling Biyu around like she was an item. Or that he was being so rough for no reason. “She said she would go with you?—”

“Listen—” he began.

“That’s enough.” Nikator suddenly had a dagger in his hand, a dragon body coiling around the hilt. He pointed the silver edge of the weapon toward the guard, who peered up at it in thinly veiled disdain. “Let the woman go.”

The guard hesitated, looking between the dagger and then at Nikator before finally releasing her.

“She may be a prisoner,” Nikator said, his own eyes narrowing at where the guard had been grabbing the woman, “but she’s still a princess, and you’re not allowed to touch royalty, unless you have a death wish. And if that’s the case—” He waved the tip of the dagger near the man’s throat, an angelically cruel smile twisting his lips. “I can most definitely oblige.”

The guard licked his lips and stared down at the blade. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to.”

“This is actually perfect.” Nikator jerked his chin toward the two women. “Both of you, come with me. We have business with you two.”

Daiyu looked between the two women. So these two were the princesses? Just by their appearance alone, she could tell there was something different about them. Something regal. Something … noble. They were both beautiful, with pale, creamy skin, inky hair, slim figures, and midnight-like black eyes. But that wasn’t what made them appear … ethereal almost. Daiyu could just tell right off the bat that there was something special about them. Magic, maybe? Or perhaps because she now knew they were the infamous princesses—one of the last of the MuRong dynasty.

The two guards exchanged troubled looks, and the older of the two finally cleared his throat and strained a smile. “Uh, we’re supposed to be guarding them?—”

“You can join us, but keep your distance,” Nikator said with a noncommittal shrug. But he wasn’t paying attention to the guard—no, he had his gaze locked on the princesses like they were prey. There was something about the way he was looking at them that made Daiyu shiver and realize that no matter how kind he was to her, he was still a warrior, and he viewed the princesses as a threat.

“We don’t have time for any business,” the other princess said quietly. “So if you don’t mind?—”

“No.” Nikator jerked a thumb to the path he and Daiyu had been walking on just minutes ago. “Follow us.”

Daiyu cringed at the rough manner of his speech. “It won’t take long,” she said with a hesitant smile. Neither of the two women appeared to be involved in anything sinister by the looks of it. And Biyu was practically shivering from being so close to the red-haired warrior. Daiyu didn’t have it in her to interrogate them, but the one thing she had learned from the royal palace was that looks were deceiving.

Nikator led them down the winding paths of the gardens and Daiyu walked beside him, glancing every so often at the shuffling women following a few feet behind. The guards did as they were told and were a dozen feet behind them.

“Is this a good idea?” Daiyu whispered to him.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He lifted his brows at her.

She frowned, eyeing the terrified young women one more time. “They seem absolutely frightened of you.”

“I was there when His Majesty killed their father and usurped the throne.” He stared straight ahead and for a moment, he didn’t look so young and innocent anymore. The polished veneer of a cheerful young man seemed to chip and unveil the groomed, cruel warrior who served the ruthless emperor. “I might have enacted a few scenes of violence in front of them. Not at them, but they may have witnessed it.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Guilt gnawed at the bottom of her stomach and she hated that she was making them go through something traumatic like this with a person they feared and hated. But … she needed answers, and they might have them. The softer side of her wanted to relent to the guilt and toss away the whole idea, but another part of her that was emboldened by the multiple death threats against her steeled her resolve.