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Ruilin’s warning echoes through me. She sits with Princess Chunlei, in deep conversation with her. General Xilu stands across from them, his heavy-lidded gaze following the princess as it usually does. His fingers crumble a piece of sweetmeat like he’s restless, like he needs to destroy something—a shiver running through me at the memory of his brutal attacks.
Jin is seated close to the front, his expression a mask of bored indifference. Though I’m careful not to look at him, I’m glad he’s here. Few notice as I approach the dais, all attention riveted upon a pair of bare-chested warriors on a raised platform, sparring by hand. As one of the warriors deals a vicious punch to the other’s face, the thick scent of blood cuts the air.
Prince Zixin is in the mood for violence.
His eyes slide over the crowd, pinching in the way I’ve come to dread. As he spots me, I smile and bow—but he lifts a cup to his lips, making me wait. When he finally gestures for me to approach, I walk toward him, my skin crawling at his assessing gaze. He hasn’t decided whether to trust me. When I left, I broke something between us—something that I need to fix.
Princess Chunlei calls out, “Miss Yining, Lady Ruilin told me how you rescued her from the magic-wielder. Was she as terrifying as the rumors claimed?”
“Every bit,” I reply. “She turned warriors into statues.”
The princess’s face clouds. “Lady Ruilin, did she treat you badly? You were her prisoner—”
“No!” Ruilin colors at her own vehemence. “She wasn’t cruel, only to those who attacked.” She stops, conscious of being too generous to her supposed kidnapper.
“Were you in danger?” Prince Zixin asks me in an aloof manner, as I stand before him.
The memory of the illusion, the kiss, sweeps through my mind. I swiftly banish it. “It was terrifying, Your Highness.” My voice shakes like I’m still haunted, trying to rouse his sympathy. “Fortunately, I was only a little hurt. I thank Your Highness for his concern.”
As an attendant places a chair beside him, I sink down on it gratefully. “I will ask the royal physician to inspect your injuries,” he tells me.
“There’s no need; just a few bruises remain.”
A brief silence falls, his fingers tightening across his cup. “I thought of you while you were away.”
“I thought of Your Highness too.” I seize the opening, though the words stick in my throat.
“Will you want to leave again?”
“Never,” I lie without pause.
I’m rewarded with a small smile, just as a cheer goes up from the crowd watching the wrestlers. One of the fighters has his head locked into the other’s elbow. If he can’t extricate himself soon, the match will be over.
“What does the winner of today’s fight receive?” I ask.
“Honor. Gold. A promotion.” Prince Zixin sets his cup down, then gestures toward Ruilin. “Lady Ruilin, I hope your father will remember the reward promised to Miss Yining for her rescue of you.”
“I’m sure Father will—or if he forgets, a reminder from Your Highness will suffice.” Ruilin smiles as she adds, “Will Your Highness also reward Miss Yining for her valor?”
“Of course.” His eyes slide to my face. “Yet there are some who question the completion of the task.”
A coldness snaps across my body. “Who?”
Minister Luk steps forward and bows, the prince’s mouthpiece. “Miss Yining rescued Lady Ruilin, but where is the magic-wielder’s body? Where is the proof that she is defeated, no longer a threat to our realm?”
“Her body?” Ruilin repeats in a thready whisper.
I close my mouth before I say something I’ll regret. It’s safer to let Ruilin handle this—or Jin. I don’t want to rouse the prince’s ire by disagreeing with him.
“I don’t understand.” Ruilin sounds confused, a fine actress. “I am here, safe and unharmed. Why is anything more needed?”
“The magic-wielder was killed when we saved Lady Ruilin,” Jin interjects smoothly. “Only through her death could the trapped warriors be freed from her spell. Did Your Highness not receive a report? It would be advisable to quash the rumors questioning the completion of Miss Yining’s task. Should Duke Yuan hear, he might reconsider his reward, the one due to us.”
Jin plays a delicate game as Prince Zixin’s eyes flash in annoyance. Yet the prince believes I would trade the starfire for my ring. He’s wrong; I’m going to take both. To hide my thoughts, I pick up a wedge of sugared mandarin, eating it though it’s too sweet, leaving a cloying aftertaste.
“I have a proposal for you to convey to Lord Chao,” Prince Zixin says in a commanding tone to Jin. “Thorn Valley is our close ally, and we are keen to strengthen our alliance. Perhaps a new arrangement might be sought to both our satisfaction, beyond any material gift.”
“We are secure in our friendship with the Iron Mountains. We need nothing else beyond the promised starfire,” Jin says flatly.
