But I no longer needed to consent. Without lifting a finger, I felt the wounds on my back knit together, returning my skin to its smooth, unblemished state. The dragon sighed with contentment, and his pleasure became mine.
I felt, for the first time, invincible.
“Your Majesty,” I said, clutching Winter’s overlarge cloak around my shoulders. “If you please.”
He waved one hand in the air. To the rest of the room: “Leave us.”
Slowly, everyone cleared the room, grumbling to themselves but obeying the order all the same. I did not watch them go. All my willpower was fixed on Liu Zhuo, who lounged before me on his dais with a shadowed, dour expression.
Up close, his eyes appeared haunted, as if possessed by a hungry ghost. Was it my imagination, or could I feel Chancellor Sima’s presence in the room with us, returned to torment him until his vengeance was complete?
“You have five minutes,” he said, his voice skeptical. He had never been convinced by my performance, but after all my scheming he trusted me enough to warrant five minutes alone.
Five minutes was all I needed.
Though the reminder of Chancellor Sima should have been a deterrent, instead, the memory lent me strength. For our mental manipulations had been equally matched, despite his superior skill in other regards. Compulsion was my strength.
“Your Majesty, long may you live,” I began, taking a step closer to him. He tensed but did not move.
The war had aged him prematurely. He remained a proud,arrogant man, but he’d begun to realize his own limitations. More than present contentment, he sought to leave behind a legacy of greatness. Thus, most of his waking thoughts were devoted to the future—how to maintain the esteem of the people, the strength of the dynasty, the honor of Anlai. He’d pardoned me not because of his son’s love, which he saw as a passing infatuation, but rather, to curb the growing dissatisfaction of the common people. His time was almost over, he could feel it in his bones, but in the legacy he left behind, he thought he could live forever.
I could use that against him.
“The burden on your shoulders is a heavy one. The kingdom is at its most vulnerable—and your sons each have their own schemes in mind.” I took a breath, letting lixia fill my lungs. “But there is only one prince who will uphold the legacy of your greatness—who will lead Anlai into a new age of prosperity and peace, and who, above all else, will establish your dynasty as the greatest that ever was. You know which son I speak of.”
My voice echoed with spirit power. I had never let lixia subsume me so completely, and now, throwing caution to the winds, a dangerous thrill ran down my spine. The dragon’s power had never felt more potent within me, and with every word I spoke, I could see Liu Zhuo’s eyes falling into a mindless haze of wonder and belief.
“Name Prince Sky as your successor, and consent to our union,” I said. “Then you will gain the legacy you have always dreamed of. Your name will be spoken for centuries to come, and your ancestors will worship you with gladness in their hearts. But you must name Prince Sky as your heir, for if you do not, the other princes will only destroy your empire with strife and discord.”
I could hear Qinglong’s voice speaking through me, overpowering my own. I could feel his presence in the room, like animpending typhoon. Our wills were one and the same. Just as I was near victory, so too was he. He could return to his former glory, no longer bound to the prison of the spirit realm. He could roam free, master of both humans and spirits. Like in the days of old, the people would fall to their knees in worship and desire. All would be his again. Both here and beyond the veil.
Very soon, it would all be his.
I startled awake, my consciousness sliding back to me. The Imperial Commander was speaking, but I had not heard him.
“—it is true,” he was saying. “For I have long doubted Keyan’s filial piety, and Yuchen is an inept, weak-willed child. Sky is popular among the people, and the war has proven his leadership and strength in battle. And with you by his side…” He frowned, the haze temporarily lifting from his eyes.
I strengthened the force of my will. “You will consent to our union.”
His expression tempered. “Lady Hai,” he said, his voice ruminative. “You and I have not always seen eye to eye, but I am not so prideful a man as to ignore the shifting spirit of our times. Help my son root out the blight of black magic spreading across the kingdom, and I will permit your union with my heir.”
He stood, sounding a gong at the foot of the throne. He struck it three times, the vibrations resounding throughout the hall, and the doors were thrown open as his imperial advisors, guards, and family poured in.
“I have made my decision—I have chosen my successor,” said the Imperial Commander, rising to his feet. Consort Caihong, to my left, gasped in astonishment. Princess Ruihua swooned, several servants rushing to fan her on the floor. And in the very back, Sky stood motionless, surrounded by guards. He was the only one not watching the Imperial Commander. He was watching me.
Silently, I made my way to the back to stand beside him.
“Your wounds—” Sky began, in a low voice.
“The dragon healed me,” I whispered. “I’m perfectly fine now.”
“How—”
I shushed him, before his rudeness prompted his father to reconsider his decision.
“But, Your Majesty,” one of his advisors was protesting, “you cannot—”
“You dare contradict me?” Liu Zhuo demanded, and his advisor fell silent, though he trembled with frustration. This was probably about to become a bureaucratic nightmare of paperwork.
