CHAPTER SEVEN #2
The pretty girl in green laughs, revealing slightly crooked teeth. “She is right, Lord Liuming. Come, we must hurry to catch up with—”
Her words fade midway, her eyes rounding at the sight of a tall woman walking toward us.
Her dress of lavender brocade is thickly embroidered with silver, a headdress of iron flowers and precious stones glittering from the coils of her dark hair.
Freckles are scattered across her fair skin, her wide black eyes searching us.
Princess Chunlei—it’s evident from the way the crowd parts to let her through, dipping into low bows.
At once, I bend over in a poor imitation, disapproval wafting from Lord Liuming and Lady Minji like a bad odor.
“Rise, everyone,” the princess says, as her gaze slides to Lord Liuming. “We are all my brother’s guests tonight.” Her tone hardens as she adds, “Those of us from the palace should show more grace, to make allowances for those unfamiliar with our customs.”
As the young lord bows, his face flushed, Princess Chunlei turns to me. “On behalf of my brother, I welcome you tonight.”
“I am grateful,” I stammer, struck not just by her beauty but her warmth. After Lord Liuming, I imagined most of the nobility to be as haughty and arrogant, and it’s a relief that she’s not.
“Your shoes are exquisite,” the princess tells me. “I must ask my attendants to find a similar pair for me.”
I resist the urge to offer them to her. The princess possesses a rare charm that makes me want to please her. I bow to her again, unsure of what else to do. “They were a gift from a friend.”
“You are fortunate to have good friends.” She leans toward me, her voice dropping so the others don’t hear. “Don’t lower your body so abruptly when you bow. Each movement should flow as naturally as walking.”
My heart swells at her kind advice. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Princess Chunlei gestures to the girl in green. “Miss Daiyu, perhaps you might accompany this lady to the banquet hall? It’s easy for newcomers to get lost here.” She inclines her head to me in a gentle dismissal. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”
As she strides away, the crowd of nobles and courtiers trails after her. Just Daiyu remains, studying me. “What is your name?” she asks.
“Yining.”
“I’m sorry about Lord Liuming and Lady Minji. Not all of us here are like that,” she says with a grimace. “Is this your first time in the palace? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yes. I live a distance away, several hours by foot.”
“Who would walk?” she says with a laugh. There is no malice in it, just a reminder of the gulf between those who live here and those in the villages. But then she flushes and looks down. “That was thoughtless of me.”
I stare at the elegant garden that surrounds us. “We’re just used to different things.”
We walk in silence for a while, following the other guests.
Sandalwood-scented smoke winds from the bronze incense burners scattered along the path, flanked by porcelain pots of white chrysanthemums, their buds half-formed—the first flowers I’ve seen here.
Ahead, the hall towers like a fortress, its black roof tiles shimmering in the moonlight, resting upon gilded pillars carved with dragons and phoenixes.
“We’re almost at the Grand Hall,” Daiyu tells me. “It is also where His Highness holds court each day.”
Music and laughter drift toward us, a flutter stirring in my chest. A sudden eagerness fills me as I climb the stairs briskly.
Daiyu calls out as she hurries after me, “If you’re unsure what to do, just follow the others. Watch out for the chief attendant. He’s a stickler for the rules and formalities.”
As we approach the top of the stairs, I halt, staring at the scene before us.
The hall’s stark exterior hides a jewel within.
The ceiling is painted in deep violet, tiny lanterns strung across like chains of stars.
Clusters of peonies, branches of magnolias and cherry blossoms are crammed into ornate vases—a costly garden that will wither before dawn.
The red marble floor is inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl in patterns of clouds and birds. It’s beautiful here, extravagantly so.
“Some of our guests have come from the Amber Forest and the Pearl Ocean.” Daiyu nods at a large group in fitted robes of thinner fabric, some with small jewels embedded in their faces.
Curiosity fills me; I want to learn more of these places, but she adds, “Tonight we also have the honor of hosting the Lord of Thorn Valley.”
“Thorn Valley? From the Land Beyond?” My voice catches.
“You sound surprised,” Daiyu says with a smile. “Though they’re from the Land Beyond, they are our allies, despising the magic-wielders of Mist Island as we do.”
“Those of Thorn Valley don’t have magic?” All I’ve heard is it’s a desolate place where ferocious creatures roam, lying between the Iron Mountains and Mist Island.
“Magic only exists in Mist Island; not here, nor in Thorn Valley,” she explains. “Maybe this is why they chose to help us fight against Mist Island, when the magic-wielders attacked our palace.”
“Why did they attack?” I ask. “Our village heard rumors, but no one knew for sure.”
Her expression is somber. “It was many years ago. Some believe they covet our iron, resistant to their magic. Or maybe they don’t need a reason to kill.”
As a shudder runs through me, Daiyu touches my arm.
“You have nothing to fear. Our army is the greatest in the realm. Moreover, with the support of Thorn Valley, Mist Island has not dared to threaten us since.” Her gaze shifts to the end of the hall, toward the dais.
“I must rejoin my friends,” she murmurs. “I hope you will enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, Miss Daiyu.” I’m already missing my sole acquaintance amid this sea of strangers.
After she leaves, I turn to the dais, wondering what snared her attention.
A throne carved of iron is set upon it, flanked by sculptures of dragons painted in vivid blues and greens, their whiskers of shining gold.
A man sits there, more handsome than any painting.
His hair possesses the sheen of silk, his dark eyes flashing with inner fire, his cheekbones as sharp as his mouth is full.
An ornate headpiece of iron sits on his black hair, his white robes gleaming like snow.
Prince Zixin.
I’m staring at him; I can’t look away, though it’s rude and intrusive.
Not just because he is beautiful, heartbreakingly so—but because I’ve seen him before.
The black of his eyes, the pattern of his clothes…
he was the one watching me outside the palace, as he stood among the archers.
My body grows taut, flushing hot then cold.
As the music fades, Prince Zixin looks up, right at me.
It’s like the sun has risen, a tingling sweeping through my veins.
This doesn’t feel real, like the flowers by the pond, the pears on the tree.
For a moment, I’m lost in his gaze—not a girl from the village but someone he is waiting for, someone he might ask to dance.
For a moment, I’m falling into a fairy tale, daring to believe it might be real.
Maybe there is magic in the Iron Mountains too.