CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
The steps end in an empty room that opens to a wide corridor.
It branches out into several pathways and is flanked by over a dozen doors, soldiers patrolling around.
The sour stench of sweat pervades the air alongside the dampness of mold.
A few lanterns are strung up, casting their watery light on the dirt-encrusted floor.
Every now and again, muffled cries puncture the silence, keen with anguish.
The princess walks ahead, halting by a door of weathered wood.
The guard unlatches it, pushing it open.
Anli is chained to a wooden post, facing away from the soldier beside her—a stocky man wielding a whip.
Her shoulders are hunched, the back of her dress shredded and stained with blood, sweat-drenched hair falling over her face.
She is shivering, weeping softly with each breath like she no longer has the strength to scream.
My stomach roils violently. As the soldier raises the whip again, Princess Chunlei moves into the cell. “Stop,” she orders.
The soldier drops his arm at once, lowering himself in a hasty bow. “Your Highness, her punishment is a royal command,” he stammers. “The chief attendant—”
“If the chief attendant protests, send him to me.” Her face is a stony mask of authority, her tone as imperious as her brother’s.
The blood splattered on the floor, the girl’s torn flesh, the stench of suffering in this cell… my nails dig into my palms. It’s like a mirror has cracked, fragmenting the perfect reflection. The dream of the palace is morphing into a nightmare, and the prince within it into a beast.
As the soldier unfastens Anli’s chains, she scrambles to a corner, throwing her arms across her knees. Her sleeves slide down to reveal more welts, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.
Princess Chunlei touches her shoulder. “You have nothing to fear now; you are under my protection.” Her gaze flicks toward the soldiers. “No one is to lay another hand on her. I will send a carriage for her soon.”
The soldiers clasp their hands, muttering their swift assent.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Anli whispers, her voice raw.
I take her other hand, cold and damp. She doesn’t know me, but her fingers clutch mine with a desperation that pierces my heart. If only I could help her—and it’s fortunate the princess can. Her grip only loosens when Princess Chunlei rises and gestures to me.
As we leave the cell, the princess’s body droops. “I wish I could do more.”
“You helped her. You got them to stop,” I remind her.
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
The people in the villages mostly complain about the royals, their ambition and greed. But tonight, I’ve seen another side of power—that it can be used for good too, not just to inflict suffering.
“We must return. I have to arrange a safe place for Anli,” Princess Chunlei tells me as we reach the small room with the stairs.
I’m impatient to head above, where the wind blows in my face and the air is fresh. Yet to accept Jin’s offer, I have to learn what he seeks. This creature must be in the Shadow Wing, and I may not get the chance to return.
I press a fist to my forehead, keeping my breaths shallow. “Your Highness, I feel faint; I can’t climb the stairs now. Could I rest here, then make my way back?” When she hesitates, I add, “I don’t want to delay your preparations for Anli.”
“Would you like an escort?” she offers, glancing at the soldiers behind us.
At once I shake my head. “There’s no need to trouble anyone, Your Highness. Will the guards allow me back through the gate?”
She unfastens an ornament from her sash and hands it to me: a sandalwood tablet, engraved with her name. “Show this to the guards and they won’t stop you. You should keep tonight’s encounter to yourself. Too many eyes here search for ill intent where there’s none.”
“I will.”
As the princess climbs the stairs, I tie the ornament to my waist, waiting till she’s out of sight.
Only then do I slip from the room into the wide corridor, taking the first unguarded path.
Despite the princess’s gift, a restless fear needles me.
How many like Anli are trapped here? I used to think the mines were the greatest nightmare, and I’m rapidly learning there are worse.
It’s quiet, seemingly abandoned, not even a lantern to lift the dark.
In some places, weeds grow wild, a welcome reminder of life beyond.
But what I seek can’t be here; it would be someplace more carefully guarded.
I turn back to the main corridor, waiting till the soldiers move away before darting into a narrow path, one more brightly lit.
A few steps in, my senses heighten like I’ve been swimming in cold water.
As I inhale, my throat closes. The metallic tinge that pervades the palace is far stronger here.
My stomach clenches as the smell thickens, my head beginning to pound.
Footsteps sound, a large troop of guards approaching.
I dart into a corner, pressing myself against the wall, not daring to breathe until they pass.
Something precious must be here, something they want to hide.
Once the soldiers are gone, I hurry onward, keeping my steps light.
Just ahead, a door is thrown open. Dazzling light sparks from within, scattering like fireflies.
Metal clinks, followed by seething and hissing sounds.
I angle myself to peer closer: Swords are lined in rows, some curved, others straight.
Some possess the sharp glitter of my dagger, the rest the duller sheen of the iron typically found in the villages.
Is this a forge? Soldiers are collecting the shimmering blades, laying those of plainer iron in their place.
A tall man in a white robe stands before the weapons, his back to me.
When he turns, the light from the lanterns illuminates his face.
Prince Zixin.