I started sleeping with my hands locked around my irons, as if holding them there would keep my mind in place. Every evening, when most of the court went to supper, I feigned sickness and stayed in my rooms. When I was certain the coast was clear, I’d slip into the reading room and take the secret passageway into thelibrary Sky had built for me. There I read of ancient mythology surrounding spirit summoners of old, poetry concerning the whims of gods, and even medical texts detailing the biological pathways blocked by overuse of lixia. Instead of imbuing me with hope, my newfound knowledge stole my sanguine ignorance. I had done exactly everything I was not supposed to do: depleted my qi, overused my lixia, allowed my life force and spirit power to develop into a parasitic relationship.
Had Sky read these same texts? Was his unceasing optimism rooted in greater conviction for my abilities, or simply baseless faith? And yet I had defied the inevitable before. Perhaps I could do it again.
A creak from above jarred me from my thoughts. Was it Lily, coming to look for me? Hurriedly I shoved the scroll I was reading back onto the shelf, which sent another one careening to the floor. Bending to retrieve it, I noticed a familiar ruby bead, the brilliant crimson color reminiscent of fire. Although the floor beneath the bookcase was dusty, the ruby bead was gleaming.
It had not been there for long.
I left the scroll lying on the floor, racing back up the passageway. I made it up two flights of stairs before needing to stop and rest. As I clutched the stair banister, panting, a maid I didn’t recognize appeared by my side.
“Can I help, my lady?”
“N-no,” I said, trying to keep my vision from blurring. “Just need to catch my breath.”
“Very well,” she replied, before lowering her voice. “My life for the rebellion, Phoenix-Slayer.”
I raised my head sharply, which only caused my nausea to swell. By the time the dizzy spell had passed, she was gone.
How strange…but I didn’t have time to dwell on it now. Racing to my quarters, I found Lily in my bedroom. I’d hoped for both of them, but perhaps this was for the best. Lotus was more obliging, but Lily was far more discreet.
“Lily,” I said. “I need a favor.”
The next day, I wokewith the sun, my strange dreams fleeing in the morning light. My body no longer ached with soreness, and my head felt unusually clear. Under the blue light of dawn, I headed for the back kitchen courtyard, meeting Lily for our morning training sessions. I had a dozen regular pupils now, and the rate at which they learned enlivened me. Their consistent improvement was the only tangible progress I could point to in my life. While I could not use my lixia, could not track down the wayward spirit summoner, could not even leave the palace walls, at least I could teach a few others how to defend themselves.
But perhaps I had grown overly cocky in the Imperial Commander’s absence. After practice that day, I spied a glimmer of white among the gray linens drying on the clotheslines. My pulse thrumming in my ears, I moved closer to investigate.
Before I could part the linens, none other than Winter emerged. “Good morning,” he said, and several girls gasped as he drew back the hanging clothes.
“Should we wait for you?” asked Lily, her terror at being caught plainly visible.
“It’s all right,” I assured her, motioning for the girls to leave us. “I trust him.”
I drew Winter into the privacy of the kitchen alleyway, where the clatter of the cooks preparing the palace’s breakfast muffled our conversation.
“I expected Sky to warn you to keep a low profile,” said Winter. “But perhaps I’m giving him too much credit.”
“He did,” I said. “I’m just…not the best at following orders.”
A flicker of reluctant amusement crossed his face. “Just don’t make things harder for him,” said Winter. “He’s already put himself in a precarious position by siding with you.” With that, he turned to go.
“Winter,” I called after him. “What makes you think I can’t make thingsbetterfor him?”
“It’s not about whether you can,” he said, in his deliberate way. “It’s about whether you will.”
I stilled. He wasn’t certain where my loyalties lay with Sky. And it was true that even I had questioned my own motives at times. But after hearing the cheering crowds at the parade, after seeing the depth of Sky’s love and unwavering confidence in me—greater even than my own—I had made my decision.
“I can, and I will,” I told Winter firmly. “Your father wouldn’t have let me go if public opinion hadn’t forced his hand. But I can change how he sees me—and how the court does too.”
“Is that why you made Yuchen think you a timid fool?”
The comment stung, as Winter knew it would. He could be ruthless when necessary, but I understood—like Princess Yifeng before him, he was testing me.
“I won’t make the same mistake twice,” I said. “I can help Sky secure the throne, Winter. But I need allies.”
I waited, counting every heartbeat. Winter assessed me for a long moment, before saying, somewhat reluctantly, “I can make a good ally.”
I beamed.
A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. “Do you know,” he said, shading his face against the rising sun, “Sky asked me not to meddle?”
