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Daiyu shakes her head. “The soldiers are loyal to General Xilu. The one who holds the throne needs his support.”
I study the general, noticing the soldiers behind him wear the same copper discs engraved with the hawk. “Why do his soldiers wear that symbol?”
“General Xilu was greatly favored by the late king, even allowed to have his own soldiers bear his insignia,” Daiyu explains.
“You know a great deal,” I remark.
“My family has served at court for a long time,” she says. “I grew up here.”
“Do you wonder what it’s like outside?” I ask. As a child, I dreamed of exploring the kingdoms… but then again, I’d also dreamed of the Prince of the Iron Mountains.
“Who would want to leave the Palace of Nine Hills?” Daiyu says with a smile.
As General Xilu rises to approach the throne, a hush falls over the crowd. “Your Highness, I’ve just received more news from Duke Yuan of the Amber Forest. His soldiers have cornered the magic-wielder in a tower in the Death Swamp, his daughter still a captive. The land there is precarious—unable to withstand large numbers of people, risking collapse. The duke has requested each of the Three Kingdoms to send only their strongest champion with a small party to the Amber Forest within ten days, to enter on the day of the Market of a Hundred Leaves.”
“Why the delay?” Minister Luk asks.
“To allay any suspicions. Since the negotiations have fallen through, the magic-wielder has forbidden the duke to seek help elsewhere, threatening his daughter’s life. Time is needed to silence all rumors, to ensure no news reaches the magic-wielder, and to also travel to the Amber Forest. Entering on market day, the busiest time of the season, will be the best opportunity to slip through unnoticed.”
Another minister in a black hat clears his throat. “Duke Yuan’s soldiers have surrounded the magic-wielder. They should be able to rout him through force alone. Why do they need us?”
“Minister Qin, the duke’s soldiers aren’t equipped to deal with a magic-wielder; his soldiers aren’t trained for it,” General Xilu says impatiently. “Moreover, the swamp is perilous—any misstep could risk Lady Ruilin’s life. Only the selected champions, along with a small group, will be allowed to attempt the rescue. I’ve made the preparations—”
“General Xilu, have you forgotten that a tournament is promised? Or are you so confident in clinching victory?” Lord Chao’s words slur as he waves his cup, sloshing wine over himself. He swaggers to the front, weaving on his feet. Jin tries to catch his arm but is brushed aside. “There are others who desire the prize too, those as skilled as you.” He slaps his chest as he speaks.
General Xilu’s eyes arch with scorn. “I welcome your challenge, if Your Lordship can stay away from his cup long enough to wield a sword.”
“I can wield one well enough to bring you to your knees,” Lord Chao boasts.
As Prince Zixin raises his hand, the way he looks at Lord Chao sends a chill through my veins. At once, Jin moves forward, drawing the prince’s attention. “Your Highness, may we know the terms of the challenge?”
Prince Zixin regards him coolly before replying. “The tournament will be held in five days, followed by an immediate ceremony to crown the victor. First, the contestants from our kingdom will battle each other. Then their victor will face the contender from Thorn Valley upon the tower, bearing a weapon of the Iron Mountains—as is our tradition. The winner will set off without delay to the Amber Forest to rescue Duke Yuan’s daughter.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Jin says, pulling Lord Chao back to his seat.
As a group of courtiers surrounds the prince wearing sycophantic smiles, I make my excuses to Daiyu and Mengli, then approach the throne. It’s not easy to push my way through, but when Prince Zixin raises a hand, the rest fall back to clear a path for me.
“Your Highness, may I return to my room? My head is aching.” I droop as I speak, my voice listless.
He shakes his head. “I want you here.”
“If you wish, Your Highness. But I feel a pain in my throat.” I rub my neck, then cough purposefully. There are few things the rich and powerful dislike more than getting sick. Maybe because so much is in their control, they resent the little that isn’t.
As the courtiers nearest to me sidle away, Prince Zixin frowns. “Rest tonight,” he tells me, gesturing to an attendant. “Send an order to the kitchen to brew an herbal tonic for Miss Yining.”
“I don’t need one, Your Highness,” I say quickly, imagining Cook Feng’s ire if he’s roused for this farce. “I just need to sleep.”
Without another word, I back away to the entrance. Jin is sitting by Lord Chao as I pass, speaking in low tones, his expression taut. He doesn’t look up at me, yet I sense he’s acutely aware of my every movement—as I am of his.
CHAPTER TWENTY
M y spirits lift the moment I leave the hall, stepping into the garden. Glancing behind to ensure I’m not being watched, I stride toward the rows of trees, counting the lanterns on each one—eight shining gourds hanging from their branches. Farther from the hall, the sounds of revelry fade, traded for the mysterious whisperings of night. Toward the end of the courtyard, a pine tree towers, strung with nine lanterns. Trust Jin to notice this minor detail.
I wait awhile, but he doesn’t appear. Just when I think he’s not coming, someone tugs my sleeve. Relief fills me at the sight of Jin—strange, how safe I feel around him, someone from Thorn Valley where trespassers are rumored to be murdered without mercy. Dangerous, to be alone with him. But monsters live in all places, and sometimes they wear crowns.
He leans against the tree, holding my gaze. “Was there a reason you wanted to see me out here? Why not speak inside?”
“It’s safer for us not to be seen together,” I remind him. “His Highness saw me speaking to you once. He didn’t like it.”
