Empire’s Curse (Drakkon #1)

Chapter 36

Daiyu smoothed down her sapphire and plum-colored skirts, feeling all the stranger to be at the helm of the festival like this. She was at the roof of the palace, where a plethora of nobles milled about the heavily decorated rooftop venue with drinks and food and merriment all around them. At the center of the event was the large, scarlet lantern that was meant to be lit by the emperor’s chosen person—for this year, Daiyu.

She had never felt so out of place than she did in that moment. Nothing felt real. She was the wife of the emperor, she was somehow a part of his court now, and she was most definitely not making a mistake—or so she hoped. A few months ago, she had been on her family’s farm, harvesting from their garden, picking flowers to decorate along their windowsills, and helping milk her elderly neighbor’s goats every morning. And now, she was somehow important enough to light the first lantern to kick off the rest of the lanterns that would be lit and flown throughout the empire.

And even though she should have felt like the most powerful woman in the room, she couldn’t. Not when everyone else formed their own little circles, talking to one another and laughing, while she sat alone on the dais with Muyang to her right and no one else to converse with. She felt like an accessory more than a powerful empress.

It was just the beginning, she told herself.

But eventually, even Muyang intermingled with the crowd to speak to some of the nobles. Likely imperative political things, but it left her utterly alone and even more out of place.

“Lady Daiyu!”

She turned just in time to see Jia bowing politely a few feet below the dais, an ever-cheery grin on her face.

“Lady Jia, a pleasure to see you,” Daiyu said with forced enthusiasm. She still wasn’t used to all the people coming up to her and greeting her, all of them appearing either suspiciously excited to see her or obviously uninterested in her. She wasn’t sure which category Jia fell into—gossipy curiosity, genuine delight, or a mixture of the two.

“You look beautiful. That dress really brings out your colors,” Jia said with a wide-toothed grin. She gestured to the rest of the event. “Would you like to walk around with me? It’ll be a little while until the lantern is lit, and you look like you could use a little adventure around here.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Nonetheless, Daiyu descended from the dais and allowed Jia to link their arms together as they strolled along the rooftop venue. From the distance, she could make out the scintillating and brightly lit capital all around them. She could imagine all the common folk and city dwellers waiting and watching the sky for the first lantern to emerge from the royal palace, signaling them to release theirs. A lightheaded excitement rushed over her at the thought of it.

“You looked like you want to explore,” Jia answered with a shrug.

It was a more polite way of saying she looked lonely, Daiyu realized with a flush of embarrassment.

They passed by groups of noble women dressed in colorful silks with their bejeweled hand fans covering half their faces as they giggled over their conversations. Daiyu could feel their stares boring holes into every inch of her body. Every titter and chuckle seemed to pierce her and she wondered if they were talking about her. Staring at her. Laughing at what they saw.

“Have you made any friends since coming back to the palace?”

Daiyu almost didn’t hear the question past her own roaring thoughts. “Err, no,” she said with an uncertain smile. “Other than when I went to see you and Lady Eu-Meh, I haven’t met anyone else, unfortunately.”

“Oh, really?” Jia steered them toward a table of sticky rice cakes and honeyed sweets. She took one of the small plates and plopped the sugary desserts into her mouth in one go. “I would have been bored out of my mind being in the palace with no social events or meetings to go to. Have you thought of inviting over nobles from within His Majesty’s circle?”

Truthfully, Daiyu didn’t even know that was an option. “I’m sure I can figure that out once I’m officially …” The sentence hung in the air for a second. Until she was what? The empress? She was already married to Muyang, so how long would it take for her to be his empress?

“A part of this court?” Jia finished for her between licking her fingers. “You’re already married to him, so I think that means you can do whatever you want!”

Daiyu chuckled, taking a small plate of a sticky rice cake. “This is all so very new to me, so I’m still figuring it all out.”

“I think it’ll be great for you to break out of your shell and meet lots of noblewomen. Everyone is so curious about you, the woman who charmed the emperor.” She winked. “If you ever need any tips on who to invite and what to do, don’t hesitate to ask me! I’d love to show you the ropes.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Daiyu wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful or suspicious. Although Jia came across as a cheerful and kind person, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe it was all a ruse to get Daiyu comfortable so she could gossip about her behind her back. And one thing Daiyu had learned over the years was that she couldn’t blindly trust the first person who lent her a helping hand.

She eyed the rest of the nobles, whose voices mingled together with the hum of the music. Among the crowd, she spotted Wang Yanlin, who was dressed just as extravagantly as she had been on Daiyu’s wedding day. With startling vermillion silk and gold, and swathes of rich purple, she looked dazzling and more like the empress than Daiyu did. A surge of bitter rage filled her and she pursed her lips together at the woman.

Jia followed her gaze and made a small noise in the back of her throat. “Ah. Wang Yanlin, huh? She sure likes to be the center of attention.”

“Hm?” Daiyu’s fake smile was back in place, this time a bit more strained than usual.

Jia jerked her chin in Yanlin’s direction before chewing on another rice cake. “You probably feel uncomfortable around her. I’ve heard her talking all about you during her tea parties. It’s obvious what she’s trying to do.”

“And what’s that?” She didn’t want to come off as fishing for answers, but she was desperate for more information on the viper-like woman, especially since she was proving to be a thorn in her side.

“Oh, you know.” Jia clucked her tongue. “She wants to become His Majesty’s concubine. Or his second wife. She’s vying for the empress position. I did some digging, you know, after you visited me a few weeks ago. Apparently, she’s been wanting to become the empress for years now. She really did think she’d marry him before anyone else. But then, well, you showed up.”

Daiyu barely tasted the sweets as she chewed and swallowed. She couldn’t rip her gaze away from Yanlin, who was batting her lashes and speaking to Commander Yao Bohai. Was she purposefully trying to get close to Muyang’s inner circle? Bohai was probably one of his closest men—his right-hand man—so that was very much possible.

“Her dreams and ego were crushed, but I’m sure that’s not going to stop her,” Jia said with a sigh. “What do you plan to do with her? With how her personality is, I doubt she’d want to befriend you and become sister-wives.”

“I’m still figuring it out,” she said vaguely.

“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Jia said with another sigh.

Until Muyang marries her too.

The unsaid words sent a razor-sharp stab through her heart and she gripped the small ceramic plate so tightly she was sure it was about to crack. She had accepted the reality that Muyang would marry plenty of women after her, but the thought alone sent a nauseating wave of weakness over her.

She knew the reality. She knew it, had accepted it. But?—

She abhorred the mere thought of it.

Her blood raged at the thought. At the images her brain formed of Muyang in bed with other women. At the future where he would have dozens of women flocking him, all of them carrying his children. And she especially hated the idea of Yanlin by his side.

Daiyu breathed out shakily, hating the fire that coursed through her veins and made her limbs tremble. Her stomach clenched together and she reminded herself of what she had promised herself—that she wouldn’t fall for Muyang. That she wouldn’t love him. For this exact reason. To protect herself from when he would take other women.

And as much as she wanted to follow that line of thinking, an uncontrollable fury and fear filled her at the thought of it.

She scanned the crowds for Muyang and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted him, bedecked in his dark robes and gleaming gold hair crown, speaking to Atreus and General Fang. His expression was as shuttered as usual, and there was nothing about him that told her his eyes were straying to the fawning women that always seemed to be inching closer to him. Even without the fact that he was the emperor, he stood out among the crowd. Power and menacing magic seemed to radiate from him, and he appeared like a darkly clad general rather than the emperor.

Daiyu’s heart nearly skipped a beat. She could remember all the ways his hands had traveled over her body and how she had felt so safe and secure in his strong, lean arms. She was reminded of their passion together, of how important he made her feel. So unlike all these other people who stared at her like she didn’t belong.

Setting aside her now-empty plate on one of the side tables, Daiyu excused herself and wove through the crowds toward him. She needed to talk to him again, to feel reassurance that he was hers, and that she was his, and that all these worries buzzing around her head were just that—worries. Nothing more, nothing less.

Muyang spotted her almost immediately. His black eyes seemed to light up with something that appeared too feral, too animated, and all too much like the man she had been with last night. She could already feel a blush starting to claw up her throat as she stepped closer.

He pulled himself away from his circle and approached her just as she did him. Before she could even utter a word, he placed a hand on her hip and leaned closer, his lips brushing against the top of her ear.

“You look utterly ravishing,” he murmured, sending a ripple of electric desire through her flesh.

Daiyu cleared her throat. “And you look utterly bored.”

“Do I? It must be because you’re not by my side.”

“Funny you say that, considering you’re the one who left my side.” She smiled up at him, the chaos in her heart seeming to calm down at his nearness. It was only when she was around him that she stopped feeling all the terrible, terrible things that came with being the first wife of the emperor. She didn’t have to think about the future too much when he was standing in front of her, showing her he cared for her.

Muyang grasped her hand, turned it around, and kissed the palm of it gently. The temperature dropped and she shivered at the suddenly brusque autumn air. “Forgive me for leaving you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a tone of mischief. “Maybe I should make it up for you later tonight?”

“Perhaps.” Daiyu lifted her shoulders, aware that some of the nobles were shooting glances their way. She wondered if it was strange for them to see their usually callous and unbothered emperor kissing her hands so naturally, or showing small gestures of affection.

She certainly found it strange and would have found it stranger months ago, when all she had thought of Muyang was that of a coldhearted, horrible murderer.

“Lady Daiyu.” Atreus came to stand by Muyang and tipped his head down in her direction in the way of a polite greeting. He was clad in his usual black and red uniform, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. “I hope you’re enjoying the festival.”

“More or less,” she said with a small laugh.

“More or less?” Muyang raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“Well, I certainly am, but I didn’t realize how exhausting it could all be. There were just so many events we need to attend, so many feasts, so many people to greet … I suppose it’s not as easy as just enjoying ourselves, if you know what I mean?”

“Already tired of the political side of things, hm?”

“Maybe a little,” she joked. Truthfully, she didn’t like the social aspect of being Muyang’s wife, especially since she was still figuring out royal etiquette and what to say around the nobles. She hoped that with time, she’d become better at interacting with people and that one day, she might not feel like such an outcast.

“Is Vita taking a break?” Atreus asked, sending a sweeping glance at their surroundings. “I don’t see her around.”

“When Daiyu is with me, Vita doesn’t need to be here,” Muyang answered sharply as if it was obvious.

“Ah, of course, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to insinuate—” Atreus started, straightening.

“I have enough power to protect what’s mine.”

“Certainly.”

Daiyu clasped her hands together. “I think it’s good for Vita to have a break anyway. She should be able to enjoy this festival just like everyone else.”

“We don’t usually partake in the festivities much,” Atreus said with a shrug. He stared off at the lights in the capital that looked like a cluster of burning stars. “Festivals are prefect times for insurgencies.”

Muyang placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “No need to scare her. There will likely be no insurgencies tonight, Daiyu. Not while my men work.”

Daiyu looked between the two of them, then at the nobles milling about the rooftop, and lastly at the glitzing capital sprawling in the horizon. Was it possible that the rebel forces had infiltrated the city and were making plans as they spoke? Or that there were enemies within the palace right now? The thought made her uneasy and she was suddenly reminded of this aspect of royal life that she had surrendered herself to when she had married Muyang—the uncertainty. The possibility of Muyang’s dynasty collapsing and her life being changed to collateral damage.

A shiver rattled her spine and sent goose bumps down her flesh. There had even been that attack in the gardens a few weeks ago when she had been having tea with the princesses. She had chalked that up to being Yanlin’s work, but what if it was actually the rebel cause? Did they really think she was useful enough to be used against Muyang? A new sense of fear took hold of her and she had to remind herself that she was safe here with Muyang, with the Peccata watching her, and with Feiyu acting as the head mage.

She snapped back to reality when Muyang touched her lower back. “I’ll be right back. I have to make the announcement soon.”

“Oh! Sure.” She waved him back while he made his way through the parting crowds. Another layer of anxiousness brewed in the pit of her stomach—this time completely different. It was almost time for her to light the lantern. Her hands suddenly grew clammy and she rehearsed her steps in her head: take one step at a time, one foot over the other, make it to the lantern, smile, light the lantern, and send it off to the night sky.

That was it.

And above all, don’t trip.

This was going to be her first real step in becoming the empress. For getting acknowledgment from everyone that she was Muyang’s favored woman. That she was his, period. It should have been enough that she was married to him, but considering how his reputation was so drenched in blood, it was no wonder that people thought she was replaceable. But at least this was one thing she could do to help her position. To make her seem more like the wife of the emperor.

“Are you all right?” Atreus asked. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” She plastered a smile on her face and tried to tamp down the clawing nerves rattling her being. She couldn’t make a fool of herself today. Not when practically the entire empire—well, the capital, to be exact—was waiting with bated breath. She could imagine herself making a mistake and rumors spreading from these very nobles to their servants, and those rumors tumbling down to the servants in the palace, and from the servants to the common folk, and the common folk to the farmers—until the entire empire knew she had made a mistake.

She wrung her sweaty hands together and resisted the urge to wipe her palms across her skirt—the last thing she wanted was for someone to notice any stains on her. Though she was sure she was sweating buckets at this point, despite the chill of the night.

A hushed silence fell over the crowd when Muyang reached the giant lantern. It bobbed in the wind, secured by a rope anchored to the floor. It was just a few inches shorter than Muyang, which was impressive in and of itself.

“Good evening, my loyal court,” Muyang announced, and everyone quieted even further, an excited buzz in the air. “As we enjoy ourselves during the last evening of this glorious Autumn Festival, let us remember that this is the beginning of a new era. Come next year, all the rebels will have been defeated. All of those who oppose the Drakkon dynasty will be ashes at our feet. Here’s to many more prosperous years.”

People nodded and hummed their approval while Muyang scanned the room, his black eyes narrowed as if waiting for someone to say otherwise. Daiyu shifted from one foot to another. Was she supposed to go up to him now? Or was she supposed to wait for him to call out for her? She turned to Atreus to ask him just that, but he was too focused on Muyang. She tapped her foot on the floor. Should she just go?

Finally, Muyang held his hand out. “It’s time.”

Daiyu took a step forward, but Atreus grabbed her bicep before she could take another step forward. Confusion marred her as she turned to the young man. “What?”

Atreus raised his eyebrows and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“What?” She couldn’t hide the annoyance from her voice. She turned to Muyang with what she hoped was an apologetic smile, but whatever words she had planned remained stuck in her throat.

Time slowed as Muyang had his hand held out. Except, it wasn’t Daiyu he was waiting for. In fact, he wasn’t even looking in her direction. The crowd parted for Wang Yanlin, who strolled forward with her head held high, a pleasant smile lighting her face, and all the grace of a woman who was born to be there.

Daiyu felt like someone had punched her in the gut. All the air seemed to vanish from her lungs as Yanlin nestled her tiny hand in Muyang’s. She looked over at the waves of people until her sharp gaze settled on Daiyu. She seemed to lock onto her and Daiyu realized with growing nausea that this was part of her plan all along. Victory seemed to gleam in her rich, brown eyes. Another viper-like smile lifted her thin lips.

Daiyu could feel the glances sent her way. Her body trembled, but not from the cold. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to pass out, she wanted to fall to the floor. Her knees were weak, her stomach empty. The sea of faces seemed to blur together into a singular laughing face.

She blinked, not sure what was happening.

Muyang had chosen … Yanlin to light the lantern.

Not her.

But that couldn’t be, she told herself, swaying on her feet. She was married to Muyang. She was his wife. He had told her that she was his, and that he was hers. He had shown her such love and adoration. And yet he had chosen her—Yanlin.

More people seemed to turn to her, and she realized with a sinking feeling that she was gaping at the two of them, all the color draining from her face. She probably looked absolutely horrified. She was sure they would gossip about it to everyone. But in that moment, she didn’t care.

A giggle came from her left and she turned sharply to find a group of noblewomen snickering at her from behind their hand fans. They all leaned in closer together and began whispering, all the while sniggering and chuckling in her direction.

Daiyu’s stomach clenched tighter and she turned back to the spectacle.

Muyang passed Yanlin a candle, a strong fire burning on the wick. Yanlin said something to him, but they were too far for Daiyu to make out what was being said. All she could do was watch in stunned horror as Yanlin lit the lantern, Muyang cut the rope, and the lantern buoyed in the air.

An eruption of cheers filled the rooftop as the lantern went up and up into the night sky. And soon, in the distance, she could make out the thousands of other smaller lanterns lighting up the horizon.

Daiyu’s whole world seemed to be tipping on its axis.

He chose Yanlin.

She felt downright sick to her stomach. Her legs were jelly, her mouth too dry to even swallow.

He chose Yanlin.

Everyone continued to cheer and the more she looked around herself, the more she didn’t recognize any of the people. They seemed to be staring at her, laughing at her, and yet she couldn’t decipher who any of these people were. All she knew was that she was the outcast. The laughingstock of the party.

The na?ve, na?ve farm girl who had thought the wicked emperor loved her.

“Lady Daiyu?” Atreus touched her arm. He had probably been calling out to her, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t figure out the words. It was like a filter had been placed around her ears, making her deaf to everything but the laughter.

At the center of the rooftop, Muyang watched the lantern with a satisfied look, and Yanlin appeared even happier, her beautiful face alight with emotions. They looked … good together, Daiyu realized, her queasiness growing. Like they belonged to one another. Like they were meant to be standing there, both of them uncaring about the sea of people who watched them. So unlike her, who was unused to this all.

Muyang’s sweeping glance halted on her and the small smile on his soft mouth faded at the sight of her.

“I-I need to go,” she whispered, unable to control the writhing betrayal wrangling her heart.

She spun around and headed toward the exit, not caring that she pushed past a few drunk nobles in the process. Her head was spinning and pounding, her hands quivering and her face feeling too hot.

This can’t be happening.

She shoved her way out of the rooftop and into the stairwell. The palace guards were saying something to her, but she didn’t hear them. She kept pushing her way down the stairs. She stumbled a few times, her clammy hands grasping onto the handrail.

Why had he chosen Yanlin? Was it because she was a noble? Did he think Daiyu couldn’t have done the same? Or was he secretly like the rest of the nobles, all of whom were waiting for Daiyu to fail? Or …

She inhaled sharply when she emerged into one of the hallways. The servants moved away from her, their own expressions stricken when they met her gaze. She probably looked just as crazy and frazzled as she felt.

Did Muyang marry her only to satiate his lust for her? His desire to have a poor, na?ve woman by his side? Was Yanlin the one he was actually planning on making his empress? She was better than Daiyu in every way—she was exquisitely beautiful, she came from a wealthy, influential family, she had years of education, and she had been bred for this position. She was the perfect woman for the emperor.

Muyang had said he wanted to make Daiyu the empress, but she could see now that he was lying.

He had said all those pretty nothings to her so that she could love him.

So that she could happily spend the night with him.

So that … she could fall in love easily.

“Daiyu!”

A million razored edges tore through her flesh at the sound of his frantic voice. She didn’t turn around, only hurried her own steps. Tears—of betrayal, of rage, of heartbreak—burned the backs of her eyes.

“Liar,” she whispered, her voice coming out strangled.

“Daiyu!”

She hated him in that very moment. Hated that she was so, so stupid to fall for his tricks. That she had let him make a fool of herself up there. They were all laughing at her, laughing at how stupid the farm girl was to think that she had the evil emperor wrapped around her finger. She should have known her place in this palace. She shouldn’t have expected to be more than a bed warmer.

Daiyu had known this was a possibility—that she would be tossed aside for someone better. But she hadn’t realized how much it would sting. How painful it would be. How much she wanted to throw herself to the floor and scream at the heavens for how horrible she felt. She hadn’t expected her heart to break into thousands of shards that continued to stab at her chest with every breath.

“Daiyu!” Muyang grabbed her by the arm. “What?—”

She ripped her arm away from his grasp and spun around to face him. If she weren’t shaking so much from rage, she would have even laughed at the shocked expression on his wickedly beautiful face. “Don’t touch me!” she nearly shouted, the hallways appearing to shrink. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He blinked. “Daiyu, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” This time, she did laugh, low and sharp. “You don’t know? You really don’t know?”

“Daiyu—”

“You made a fool of me today, Muyang!” Her fingers flexed and she had the urge to run her nails across his pretty face. To watch him bleed, and even then, he would only feel a fraction of the pain he had inflicted on her. “How could you do this to me? You humiliated me in front of the entire empire!”

“I didn’t humiliate you.” He sounded genuinely surprised, and that lit up her fury even more. Made her want to burn him on the spot like the burning lanterns. “I had already promised Lord Wang months ago?—”

“Don’t tell me that the lantern lighting isn’t a big deal out here!” Daiyu screamed, not caring that the servants were hanging around in the background. She didn’t care if the whole empire heard her shout and cry. It didn’t matter, anyway, since they would all know by tomorrow. “I already have to prove myself as more than just a simple, stupid farm girl, and now you’ve made it infinitely harder for me to be anything more than … more than just that! Everyone is already laughing at the fact that you chose me! That you even married me! You should have just—” A strangled sob escaped from her throat. She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. Her mind was too frazzled, too hurt, to think of anything. “Oh. I hate you. I hate you so much!”

“Daiyu—”

“You humiliated me!” Daiyu shook her head at him, hating the tears that blurred her vision. Hating that she was even standing here, yelling at him. “If you were going to make her your favored woman, why didn’t you marry her instead of dragging me into your court? Into your palace? Why did you put me in this position? So you could laugh at me like the rest of everyone?”

“I didn’t realize this was so important to you?—”

“You didn’t realize?” Her hands trembled and she clenched them into fists. She was nothing more than a simple commoner to him, she realized with mounting horror. She was never supposed to be anything more than that. She was the stupid one for thinking that she could be his wife. His empress. “You … You lied to me.”

Muyang reached out as if to touch her, but she slapped his hand away.

“Stay away from me!” Her voice grew shrill and she backed away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Daiyu—”

“You humiliated me!” She felt like she was screaming at a brick wall. The words didn’t seem to sink into him and he kept staring at her like he was waiting for her to implode. And maybe that’s exactly what she was doing. “You want her, don’t you? You’re planning on marrying that bitch, aren’t you?”

“What are you?—”

“Don’t play dumb,” she hissed through the burning tears. “You’re going to marry Wang Yanlin, aren’t you? You’re going to make her your empress and I’ll be pushed down the lines of concubines until I’m forgotten. Do you think I’m truly that stupid that I don’t realize how court life works? I was so, so very stupid to think I had a chance at happiness with you. That I had a chance to become something more than just a?—”

“Daiyu, I’m not?—”

“You’re not listening to me!” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You’re not listening, Muyang! I know what you’re planning on doing. Don’t you see? I get it now. I get it! You never intended to make me anything more than just your bed warmer. You were planning on marrying her all along, weren’t you? I knew that, I knew it!”

And yet she hadn’t expected it to hurt so bad. She hadn’t expected the sharp pain that made her want to scream, and scream, and scream.

Of course he was going to be with other women. She had expected it. Everyone knew it was going to happen.

But she couldn’t accept it. Now that it was becoming a reality, she couldn’t.

“You—” Whatever words she was going to say died on her lips when she spotted Yanlin marching down the hallway toward them, a glowing, venomous grin on her face. Daiyu saw red, red, and red. Her nostrils flared and all the rage seemed to build up in that moment. She wanted to strangle the woman. How dare she?

She had poisoned Daiyu. Had kidnapped her. Burned her family’s rice paddies. Tried to assassinate her. And now she had humiliated her in front of the entire empire.

All the while, she grinned.

“You can’t speak to His Majesty that way,” Yanlin said in a singsong voice, her smile growing wider as she took in Daiyu’s appearance. “You should know that already. He can have you thrown in the dungeons for that, or even executed.”

She stopped until she was in front of them both. She bowed to Muyang, who stood rigid with an expressionless look on his face, and then she turned to Daiyu. “You really should stop making such a scene?—”

Daiyu slapped her.

Yanlin’s head whipped to the side, her painted lips forming a perfect O.

Her hand stung, but she couldn’t even relish the satisfaction of smacking the evil woman. Not when her emotions were all over the place. Not when she wanted to strangle her pretty little neck. “You bitch,” Daiyu seethed, “you’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you? To show the entire empire how important you are and to secure your own position within the emperor’s court. Well, there you have it! You’ve won!” She shoved the sputtering woman against Muyang, who barely caught her by the shoulders. “You both deserve one another! You’re both nobles who know how this world works!”

She whirled on her feet, grabbed her skirts, and sprinted down the hallway. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of watching her burst into tears. She was already having a meltdown, she knew, and she was already making a bigger fool of herself. Everyone would be talking about her tomorrow. About how the emperor’s new wife was left stranded during the lantern lighting and how the beautiful Wang Yanlin would marry the emperor soon.

“Daiyu!” Muyang called out for her, but she ignored him, continuing to run down the hall.

She yanked open one of the doors to an empty room and slammed it shut behind her. She locked it immediately, even as Muyang rattled against the doorknob and pounded his fists against it. She fell to the floor, her sobs breaking through her chest. She heaved in large gulps of air, hating how horrible she felt. Hating that she was even here in the first place. Hating that he could hear her strangled sobs.

“Feiyu! Please, I need you.”

In seconds, his boots appeared in front of her. She sobbed softly, her body wracking with pain. He didn’t say anything and it wasn’t until he kneeled and touched her shoulder gently that she raised her head to meet his dark, dark gaze. He was wearing a sapphire dragon mask today, matching her own dress.

The door rattled with every punch Muyang threw at it, but for whatever reason, it didn’t cave in. Not even when she sensed the heaviness of his magic behind her. It practically seeped through the cracks, but there seemed to be a barrier barring him and his magic from entering.

“Feiyu, please,” she whispered, her voice broken, “please take me away from here.”

He silently brushed a tear away, their surroundings already blurring away.

“As you wish.”