He nodded, following me to his threshold. “I think we all wish to avoid another war.”
My hand on the door, I hesitated. “Are you prepared to lose a brother?” I asked.
His eyes flashed against the lamplight. “It wouldn’t be my first time.”
The next morning, I wokein my bed, something wet and sticky sliding between my ribs. I pressed my hand to the wetness, then gasped.
I’d been stabbed.
I rolled out of bed, wrenching open the curtains and staring open-mouthed at the mottled bruises that peppered my legs, the trail of black soot my bare feet had left on the rug, and most damning of all, the wound between my ribs—which, after my initial panic had subsided, I discovered was barely a graze.
A knock sounded at the door; I realized the knocking had woken me.
“My lady?”
It was Lily. “What is it?” I rasped.
“Prince Sky is here,” she said, poking her head through the door. I noticed her eyes were rimmed red, but I was too preoccupied to give it much thought. “Should I tell him to…” Her voice trailed off as she took in my state of dishevelment.
“My lady, were you…?”
“Tell him I’m indisposed,” I said, my voice coming out hoarse. As if I’d been screaming.
Lily left. Moments later, she was back. “He’s asking what’s wrong and if he can help—”
“No,” I said, and I was shaking now. “I’ll clean this up on my own.”
“Meilin…”
I shook my head, and she fell silent, though her expression was mutinous. She wanted to help, I knew, but fear gripped me, driving me back to my default state—relying only on myself.
Alone, I cleaned and bandaged my wounds. Lately, I’d begunwaking up most mornings with fresh cuts and bruises, with no memory of how they got there. I longed to tell someone,anyone, to ask if I was going insane. But who could I tell? Sky would insist on confining me to bed rest. Already he was concerned I was overextending myself. Lily would urge me to put my irons back on, but I couldn’t afford to lose any more time. And Lei…how would Lei respond? He would laugh at me, most likely, and make some petty joke about sleepwalking. And then he would tell me whatever I most wished not to hear.
So I handled it myself. I meditated and pushed the memory to the back of my mind. Years of enduring my father’s abuse had taught me the art of compartmentalizing. By the time I was finished, no one could tell I was any worse for wear.
“The prince is gone,” said Lily, when I emerged from my bedroom. I nodded, glancing at Lotus. “And Caihong?”
“The consort is in the Imperial Art Pavilion, my lady,” said Lotus, delivering the information I’d requested earlier.
“Very good,” I said, touching my ribs to ensure my bandages were in place. “Take me there, please.” It was time to initiate the second phase of my plan. This time, Prince Keyan was my target.
Lotus nodded and rose, but not before Lily tapped me on the shoulder. I turned as she adjusted the sash around my waist, making sure it was no longer creased in the back. I smiled at her, and she smiled back, though it was a pained expression. “Let me know if we should suspend tomorrow’s training session,” she said quietly.
“Why would we need to do that?” I asked, shaking my head. But I saw the worry in her eyes.
The Imperial Art Pavilion was an open-air space, with green bamboo stalks interspersed with mahogany wooden beams. As the breeze drifted in, their shadows danced across the polished stone floor, which was tiled with intricate spherical designs. The air wasstill and silent but for the sound of running water from a nearby stream. I found Consort Caihong in the sculpture room, bathed in dappled sunlight, her attention fixed on porcelain vases from the Sun Dynasty.
As I approached, I saw that she carried a small sketchbook and was in the process of rendering a vase by hand. Although the design was simple, her skill was evident in her confident, swift strokes.
“Consort Caihong,” I said, bowing.
She turned, shutting her sketchbook. “Lady Hai!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t see you there.”
“How well you draw,” I said. “May I see your work?”
She blushed prettily. “Oh,” she said, delaying, “they’re nothing—”
“Please,” I insisted. “I’m trying to learn, but I’m a rather slow study.”
