CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
D espite my injuries, I’d wanted to leave for the Amber Forest right away.
Jin insisted we remain a couple of days for my wounds to be treated, my recovery far swifter with the medicine he provided.
He didn’t visit my courtyard himself, maybe to avoid gossip—though a different kind of doubt creeps over me now, of whether Prince Zixin was right.
Only I can give you what you truly wish.
I hope he’s wrong.
I didn’t see Prince Zixin after the tournament—maybe he’s unwell again or angry with me, a relief either way. The night before we left, Minister Luk paid me a visit, handing me a purse of money for my expenses and an oblong jade tablet with a fat red tassel, carved with the royal crest.
It’s still dark when we ride from the Palace of Nine Hills, heading east. Night lingers across the skies, merging into the shadowy mountains.
I glance behind to see the iron wall coiled around the palace like a silvery serpent.
Away from it, the air smells fresher, devoid of that metallic tinge, a weight falling from me.
If only I could be certain I never had to return.
Just in case, I’d given Shan my own silver for his sister’s medicine.
He wanted to refuse, but his fingers closed tight over it.
I know the feeling; it wasn’t easy to relinquish it, but with Jin’s promise I won’t need the silver—and I’m lucky to be alive, to get away from the Palace of Nine Hills only losing the pearl shoes I left in my courtyard.
I settle my debts, those that matter.
Just five soldiers from Thorn Valley accompany Jin and me, while the rest return with Lord Chao.
Our party is small, in keeping with the duke’s wishes.
Captain Hong leads our soldiers, a broad-faced man with two swords strapped to his back.
They are mostly a quiet group, keeping to themselves, except for Deng, a thin soldier with a chipped tooth and a loud voice.
Our pace is slow at first, even gentle. I’m glad as it’s been a long time since I was in a saddle—when my uncle was still alive.
I can’t help but think of him while riding with the wind in my hair, the world sweeping by.
These moments of exhilaration awaken dreams long forgotten, stirring my old desire to see the world beyond our mountains.
After a few hours of travel, the landscape shifts from jagged peaks to blunted hills, more green than white cloaking their slopes. Grass grows in patches across the ground, though still sparsely, their tips tinged in brown.
As Jin calls for a break, his soldiers exchange surprised looks. “Already tired, Honored Advisor?” Soldier Deng calls out with a grin. “You need to come and practice with us on the field. Find that sword you seem to have lost.”
“If I do, you’ll end up flat on your back,” Jin retorts, his eyes crinkling. “I won’t need a weapon to do that.”
As the others laugh, Jin rides back to join me, the first time we’ve been alone since the tournament. I’m beginning to think he’s avoiding me, and I’m afraid of why.
“Are you well enough to ride at this pace? Shall we go slower?” he asks.
I shake my head, ignoring the soreness of my limbs, the pain in my shoulder. “Have you retrieved my ring from the treasury?” I ask abruptly.
A beat of silence. “No. I’m sorry. It wasn’t there,” he says, holding my gaze. “It was moved just the night before.”
My spirits sink. Though I guessed it, knowing is worse. “Where is my ring?”
“In Prince Zixin’s rooms.” He thrusts a hand through his hair. “Getting it from there will take more time. It’s harder to infiltrate his inner circle; he’s careful who he allows close to him, but I’ll find a way.”
He’s tried; I shouldn’t be angry, yet it seethes, eating away at me. I’d trusted Jin; I challenged and fought the general on his promises alone—and now, it was all for nothing. Fear turns me harsh. “I’ve kept my end of the deal, Jin—you need to keep yours.”
“I will. Trust me.” He reaches out to me, but then his hand falls back down.
“You don’t ever have to return to the palace if you don’t want to.
I’ll tell Prince Zixin you’re lost or dead, if you wish.
I’ll find a safe place for you. I promise to find your ring and bring it to you—wherever you are, however long it takes. ”
Not good enough. The mark around my finger pulses sharply, an ache crawling along the back of my head—it’s been happening more frequently. My mind scatters with fear. But I leash it, I won’t let myself die. I’ll get my ring back, regardless of the cost.
And this time, I won’t rely on anyone to help me.