CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
S leep evades me as I toss in bed. The prince possesses a brutal side. Selfish, to ignore the pleas of the people who can’t afford his taxes. Cruel, to sentence the girl to be whipped for such a minor offense. Merciless, to execute the families of his attackers.
I’m struggling to reconcile the gracious and generous prince with the authoritative and pitiless ruler. Maybe they are two sides of the same coin, one part necessary to rule a kingdom and wield power… though which is his true face?
I can’t trust him now. What will happen to me should I one day lose his favor?
I must find a way out—whether to steal my ring back or through Jin’s help.
Rising from bed, I pull on a dress, a gray one that will meld into the shadows.
My hair falls loose down my back as I leave my room, my soft tread concealing my presence.
The guards are slumped by the courtyard entrance, at ease at this late hour.
I catch the end of their conversation, spoken so quietly I might have missed it if I weren’t just behind them.
“His Highness’s temper is short of late,” the woman is saying. “Worse even than his father’s.”
“These bouts of illness have strained him,” the male soldier responds.
“Where did they take the girl?” she asks.
“The Shadow Wing.”
My heart beats quicker; this is the place Jin seeks. As I step forward, the soldiers straighten: a tall, freckled woman and a broad-faced man with a dimpled chin.
“Do you need help, Miss Yining?” he asks.
“The girl who spilled tea on Prince Zixin—do you know where she is?” I feign ignorance to learn more, even as her terror-stricken face flashes through my mind. While I do want to find her, she’s also a vital cover.
“Why?”
“I have some medicine that may be of use—”
“She has all she needs.” The woman brushes me off. “If you wish to send her anything, we can get it to her.”
“I would like to see her,” I persist. “His Highness gave me permission to explore the palace; he will be displeased should he learn I was stopped.” My firm tone mimics how some of the nobles speak to their attendants.
As the guards exchange worried looks, I add, “But I see no reason to mention this to him.”
“Thank you, Miss Yining,” the woman says with a bow. “We cannot tell you where the girl is, but would be happy to accompany you anywhere else you wish.”
Voices carry across the distance, surprising at this hour. I gesture in their direction, using them as an excuse to stop the guards from following me. “There’s no need. I will join my friends for a walk.”
I stride from the courtyard, my pace quickening once I’m out of sight. Then I cross a long corridor, passing a garden of yellowing gingko trees, heading west to where the Royal Treasury is said to be.
A wide strip of lawn separates the treasury from a grove of trees.
The circular building is surrounded by a black marble wall ringed with iron spikes, its gray-tiled roof sloped from the center.
A troop of guards watches the entrance, more stationed across the grounds.
Every time I try to get closer, another patrol of soldiers appears, and I have to keep ducking back into the shadows to avoid discovery.
I stare at the treasury, frustration mounting within.
I can’t steal my ring back from there; even if I could, there’s nowhere to run to.
I’d be cut down before I cross this lawn.
My ring is so close, yet it might as well be an ocean away.
The mark on my finger throbs with greater force, the lines seeming to darken.
I need my ring back, and Jin is my best chance.
If I can find what he wants.
I turn from the treasury, heading toward the main square.
Maybe I’ll learn more about the Shadow Wing there.
Closer to it, loud thuds ring out. The place blazes with light, dozens of workers toiling hard at this late hour, some carrying long bamboo poles welded together with iron.
A tower is partly constructed, gleaming beneath the moonlight, spindly ladders leading up each tier—is this for the tournament the prince announced during the ball?
As the wind blows, the structure shudders, the workers crying out in alarm.
Even for me, this would be unnerving, infinitely more perilous than climbing the trees at home.
Just in front, a small group of people heads southward, perhaps the voices I heard earlier.
A tall woman walks before them, her gold headdress catching the light from the lanterns—Princess Chunlei.
I should hide but then a guard breaks away to approach me.
At once, I hurry toward the group like I’m part of it.
As a few of the attendants glance curiously at me, Princess Chunlei turns. At once, I bow to greet her.
“Miss Yining, you are out late tonight,” she remarks in her gentle way.
“I couldn’t sleep, Your Highness.”
“Nor could I,” the princess says, her face clouding. “Today’s events unsettled me. I am going to visit Anli, the serving girl who was punished.”
In the Shadow Wing? “May I join Your Highness?” I ask, masking my eagerness. “I have some medicine that might help ease her wounds.”
Her smile is warm. “Are you a physician too, Miss Yining?”
“No. Just someone who is familiar with such injuries.”
She pauses as though considering my request. “My brother might not approve. He won’t reprimand me, but as for you—”
“I won’t mention it to him,” I say quickly.
“Then neither will I,” she assures me.
I fall behind, recalling Madam Lau’s instruction to let royalty walk ahead. But the princess gestures for me to join her, maybe because she’s without her usual companions tonight, just the attendants and guards.
“Life in the palace can be hard for those unused to our rules. Is there anything you’d like to know?” she asks.
“Are such punishments a regular occurrence?” I wouldn’t dare ask this of the prince, but her kindness lowers my guard.
“It’s not easy to rule a kingdom,” she replies with a sigh. “One must walk a delicate balance between earning the people’s love and respect, alongside their fear. There are times my brother must do what is needed, rather than what he wants.”
“I always thought royalty acted as they wished, that they didn’t care how they appeared—” I catch myself, hoping I’ve not offended her.
“That may be true for the one who wears the crown.” She slants toward me, her face half cast in shadow. “Even then—no one, king or pauper, likes being made a fool of.”
These words sink in, almost a warning. “Are you close to your brother?”
“Of course,” she replies, a faraway look in her eyes. “Growing up, there were few I could trust.” She holds up two fingers. “Myself and my brother.”
“You are lucky to have each other.”
“Do you feel lucky, Miss Yining?”
The question takes me by surprise, except there is only one answer. “Yes. It feels like a dream.” I remember entering the palace, almost giddy with wonder… trying not to think of how I feel now.
Her gaze is penetrating—does she read more in my words? “I wish for my brother to find happiness. You may have heard the rumors that he is expected to marry soon. It was my father’s wish for Zixin to secure the succession and strengthen our kingdom.”
She is staring at me like she expects me to be upset. While my emotions are twisted and tangled, there is an undeniable flash of relief. “Who will His Highness marry?”
Her smile is knowing, almost sad. “Zixin is expected to take several consorts, most for political reasons. But among them, I hope he will choose one who can bring him joy.” She pauses, then asks, “Could you be happy here?”
Something flickers in my heart, yet recoils. Even if I wanted this… I wouldn’t want to be one of many. And while I don’t know if I wish to stay—I’m not yet ready to leave.
“Who wouldn’t be happy in the Palace of Nine Hills?” I reply evasively.
“Happiness means something different to each of us. Find your happiness, fight for it, hold on to it.” She adds, “If you want my brother, you should let him know. Don’t leave your future in another’s hands; they won’t guard it with as much care.”
“Your Highness is wise.” It’s not empty praise. I respect her affection for her brother, her attempts to smooth his path.
“Is it because we agree?”
“Maybe we’re both wise,” I tell her, and she laughs.
Away from the main square, we pass dark buildings and silent courtyards, then a garden of ancient trees with gnarled roots.
There are more guards in this part of the palace, though all seems quiet.
As we duck beneath a thick canopy of vines—a narrow corridor stretches ahead, just high enough to walk through unbowed.
We emerge by an iron gate closely guarded by soldiers.
As the mark on my finger pulses forcefully, I clench my hand to numb it.
The soldiers bow to Princess Chunlei, opening the gate at once.
Her attendants and guards remain outside as the princess and I are escorted through the gate, along a narrow path that cuts through a thicket of trees, into a low building.
It is bare within, just stark walls, and a stairway lit by a solitary lantern that leads below, spiraling deep into the earth.
I clasp my hands to stop their trembling as I follow the princess down.
The farther we descend, the thicker the darkness that sheathes us, the more the walls seem to constrict all around until it feels like being buried alive.
The stillness here isn’t of tranquility but the desolation of despair.
“What is this place?” I ask, eager to break the silence.
“Few are allowed in the Shadow Wing; only the guards who are always stationed here and those trusted by my brother.”
No wonder Jin couldn’t find this place, concealed beneath the palace itself. And even if he found it, there’s no way he could enter without discovery.