CHAPTER FIFTEEN
R ain falls in a light sheet as I head toward the dining hall. Previously, I’ve chosen to eat in my room rather than among strangers, feeling out of place. But Prince Zixin will be attending tonight, and after the attack by the lake two days ago—I want to see him again.
Just yesterday, he sent a gift to my room: a magnificent dagger sheathed in a gold scabbard, its hilt studded with rubies, its moon-bright blade glittering like the weapons the soldiers here bear.
“The finest iron,” Shan told me. “You can’t buy this quality outside; it’s reserved only for the royal family and palace guards.” He looked at me curiously. “Why would His Highness give this to you?”
“He didn’t like mine.” I set aside my old knife, picking up the dagger. A precious weapon, one I could sell for a grand price—yet the thought of parting with it left me hollow.
The prince kept his promise, the realization warming my heart more than the gift.
A desire grows to confide in him, to confess my bond with my ring—to ask, rather than scheme for its return.
But there is magic entwined with it, magic the palace forbids.
I can’t answer the questions he’ll have, and I don’t dare place my life in his hands… at least, not yet.
Shan hurries after me, brandishing an umbrella, the thick oiled paper painted with a spray of red flowers.
“I don’t mind the rain,” I tell him.
He scowls, thrusting the umbrella at me. “You’ll mind it more if you stand before His Highness looking like a drowned rat.”
“Rat?” I repeat, glaring at him.
“I’ve even matched it to your dress.” He gestures at my lilac silk robe embroidered with plum blossoms.
I grin, ducking beneath his umbrella, just in time as the rain falls harder.
A group of nobles walks past us, sheltered beneath their attendants’ umbrellas.
One of them, a girl in pink brocade, waves at me—Daiyu, whom I met the night of the ball.
Her friends stare, whispering among themselves, Lord Liuming among them.
Shan had shared the gossip at court, that many are calling me an opportunist, unworthy of their prince’s attention.
It stings, but their malice is easier to bear, knowing envy lies at the root of it.
Daiyu frowns at her companions, shaking her head, then abruptly strides away as though angry.
A knot of dread unfurls as Lord Liuming and another woman start toward me, their attendants hurrying to shield them from the rain.
As they crowd my path, I should step aside to let them pass—but I don’t, pride rearing up.
Why should I give way? Lord Liuming stalks closer, then collides against me with full force.
Staggering back, I fall to the ground—Shan’s umbrella knocked from his hands.
A few of the nobles laugh, pointing at me, my dress soaked by mud and rain, my hair clinging to my face.
As Shan pulls me up, Lord Liuming treads on his umbrella intentionally, breaking the frame.
More laughter ripples from the watching group, their glee emanating in waves.
“Apologize.” Anger rakes deep, my hands clenched by my sides. Back home, Lord Liuming and his friend would already be face-first in the dirt.
His eyes arch in disdain. “Why? It was a harmless accident. I didn’t see you. I didn’t see anyone of note.”
As he and his companions leave without a backward glance, I suppress the impulse to hurl a fistful of mud at them, to do something to banish this shriveling emptiness within. I’d believed myself safe here, under the prince’s protection—but the only one who can protect me is myself.
All the way back to my room, their mocking faces flash through my mind.
I bathe quickly, then slip on a dark blue silk dress studded with seed pearls.
A gold necklace is clasped around my neck, bangles jangling from my wrists as I slide jeweled pins into my hair.
Mina would scowl at the ostentatious display, but tonight isn’t about how I look, but what they see when they look at me.
Shan is waiting outside, changed into dry clothes.
His shoulders are slumped; he looks as forlorn as the broken umbrella by his feet.
I snatch it up, stalking toward the hall, wrapped in cold fury.
The dining chamber is smaller than the Grand Hall but exquisitely furnished.
A large carpet stretches across the floor, embroidered with tigers and lions.
Swathes of silk cascade from the walls, lanterns swinging from bronze pedestals, the mahogany tables along the far side of the room laden with food.
Unlike the formality of the banquet where dishes were served to the guests, here they browse the tables, choosing their preferences.
Dozens of guests are already present, clad in silks and brocade, jewels and iron gleaming from their hair and throats.
Fortunately, Prince Zixin hasn’t arrived, nor has his sister.
Lord Chao of Thorn Valley is here, along with Jin.
As with the last time, Lord Chao’s plate is filled with food, while Jin’s remains empty.
I head right to Lord Liuming, stopping before him.
He blinks at the sight of me, maybe expecting me to hide in my room.
Without pause, I shove the broken umbrella against his chest with all my force, mud and rainwater slopping over his fine robe.
Lord Liuming gapes, his eyes ablaze with the threat of violence as he raises a shaking hand at me.
But something in my expression makes him lower it. I’m looking at him the same way I did when I kicked Songmin, when I stabbed the assassin. I’m no longer the girl who cowered before my step-aunt. When hit, I’ll strike back.
“You owe my attendant and me an apology.” My voice is hoarse with anger. “Along with a new set of clothes for us both. The robe you ruined was a gift from His Highness; he will be most displeased.”
The color drains from Lord Liuming’s face, yet his eyes pinch with suppressed fury.
“I’m sorry,” he spits out at last, his cheeks hollowed like he’s biting down hard.
“I will replace your garments.” He must hate conceding before the crowd, but he’s also too cowardly to do anything that appears to challenge the prince.
I smile, baring my teeth. “Don’t forget, Lord Liuming. I collect my debts.”
As I move away, I find Jin watching me, his eyes amber bright as he rises and strides toward me.
After how he sparred with Prince Zixin the night of the ball, tensions seem high between Thorn Valley and the Iron Mountains—alliance or not, I won’t be foolish enough to get caught in the middle.
What I owe Jin for helping me, I’ll find another way to repay, one that won’t risk myself…
or escape before he has a chance to collect.
I veer away from him, toward the tables laden with food, but Jin follows. “Afraid to be seen with me?” he asks, a mocking tilt to his head.
“Didn’t you say we should pretend we haven’t met?” I remind him.
“Consider this our formal introduction.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you want?”
“I’m hungry.” He nods at the food, not even glancing at the roasted meats, the delicately wrapped dumplings, or plates of fish and prawns.
“You don’t eat at banquets.”
“Have you been watching me?” he drawls.
I curse myself silently, reminding myself to be cautious when speaking to him—one from Thorn Valley. Somehow, Jin burrows effortlessly beneath the mask I show others. Maybe he’s skilled at drawing me out, or maybe because he’s seen me as I really am, without this fine dress and jewels.
“What are you plotting?” I demand.
“Are you always this suspicious?”
“You don’t seem the type to act without purpose.” I pick up a plate and begin filling it with food, not looking at what I’m taking.
“Your manner is cold. So hostile,” he complains as though he cares. “Are you worried being in my company risks your future?”
I glare at him. “What do you mean?”
“Prince Zixin is powerful, handsome, rich. And you’ve caught his eye.”
I flush, my fingers tightening around my plate. “There’s more to him than that.”
“Oh, there is.” His mouth thins. “A friendly warning: Don’t be taken in by him, don’t be dazzled. Peel away the gilt and look a little deeper.”
“Are you jealous?” My tone is cool.
Jin steps closer to me, his expression grave—no longer taunting or teasing. “Most definitely not. He’s not what you think.”
“You’re wrong.” Prince Zixin has been gracious to me; he shielded me from the assassins.
“I rarely am.” Jin shrugs. “All I ask is that you be careful; nothing is as it seems here. We can help each other.”
A sliver of fear darts through me, but I bury it. “You want my help? Is that why you’re trying to turn me against His Highness?”
He shakes his head, drawing me swiftly to a quiet corner of the hall, behind a brace of candles. “I know you’re here because you want your ring, the one kept in the Royal Treasury.”
“Did you hear that from your spies?” I hiss, pulling away from him.
“I don’t need spies for that. There were plenty of witnesses.” He adds, “I can get it back for you.”
Jin is cunning, he’s trying to sway me—yet I don’t refuse as I should. I rub the mark on my finger, throbbing harder now. While it hasn’t worsened, it’s grown more tender. It would be foolish to cast away his offer of aid when there is no other.
“How?” I ask, almost reluctantly.
“The treasury is closely guarded. Fortunately, I have someone in place who can secure it.” He stares at me as though prying out my vulnerabilities. “This ring of yours must be precious.”
“It isn’t made of starfire, if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s a wooden band—”
“The one you wore when we first met?” he asks, sounding puzzled.
Of course he’d noticed. Fortunately, it was before I met the carp and received the flower. “The ring is the only thing I have left from my family; it is precious to me.” I look at him directly. “If you do this favor for me, what do you want in return?”
The candlelight casts a gold sheen over his eyes. “This would make it the second time you’re in my debt, and I have yet to collect the first.”
“Then collect it all at once.” I turn the question back to him. “What do you want of me? Why were you lurking in a remote village when we met?”
As his smile widens, a passing attendant pauses to stare at him, her face reddening. My insides twist, an impulse seizing me to warn her that people like Jin are good to look at but good for no one.
“Searching for something, as I said. Like you, an item of great importance was taken from us. We’ve scoured the villages and towns across the Iron Mountains, but now believe it can only be here—in the palace.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Can I trust you?” he asks. “Can you do this?”
“His Highness has given me permission to explore the palace as I wish. I won’t share what you tell me with anyone, but it doesn’t mean I’ll agree.” I ask then, “Is it dangerous?”
“There’s danger everywhere. Doesn’t it make life more interesting?”
“No. I’d rather be alive.”
“There is a little danger, just as there is danger in retrieving your ring.” His voice drops, his eyes flicking around to make sure no one is close by.
“We’ve heard rumors of a hidden area within the palace—the Shadow Wing—but haven’t been able to learn more.
They watch us too closely. What we seek is likely kept there, where we can’t go, that only someone high in royal favor might. ”
“Why can’t you bribe an attendant? Hire more spies? If you have someone in the Royal Treasury, why can’t you get someone in this other place?”
“Because whatever is kept there is far more valuable than any gold or jewels in the treasury. We’ve been trying to get a foothold for years without success.
Those who know anything keep their mouths shut—maybe they’re paid too well, or maybe they’re afraid.
” He stops to let each word sink in. “Let us help each other.”
Tempting. But he’s most definitely not a friend—and he’d be a dangerous ally, one I could never be entirely sure of. Yet I need what he offers; my life depends on it. “What are you searching for?”
“A creature—a small one, with scales the color of fire.” His words come slowly like he’s choosing them carefully, like he’s hiding something.
“A pet?” I ask curiously. “What creature is this?”
“One of my realm.”
Another evasive answer, but I don’t pry.
I’m not certain I’ll accept his offer. What he’s asking sounds simple, yet if this creature is so closely guarded that Jin can’t reach it, it must be greatly prized—even dangerous.
While I’m not loyal to my kingdom, I don’t want to make an enemy of the Prince of the Iron Mountains.
If thieves get sent to the mines, I dare not think what they do with spies.
“All I ask for is information; nothing else,” Jin assures me. “You won’t need to secure the creature, just tell me where it is. My people will handle the rest.”
“I need time to decide.”
“Of course. But don’t take too long.” Jin’s voice drops almost out of hearing. “I can be a valuable friend.”
Or a ruthless enemy.
As his mouth curves, I smile back at him. Whatever I decide, I can’t trust him. I’m one of the many rafts he’s sending out to sea; he won’t care if I sink. And if he’s going to use me, I’ll use him right back.
We move from the secluded corner, returning to the main area of the hall.
As Jin heads toward the table with Lord Chao, all around the guests are turning toward the entrance, sinking into low bows.
I follow their gaze to find Prince Zixin standing there—staring back at me, his eyes hooded with suspicion.