She yanked the door open, her face heating up, and stomped into the hall. He shadowed her, his shoulders shaking with silent laughs. Despite the fire in her behavior and her snappish response, she was practically quaking in her silk shoes. If he truly did become her guard, she wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish anything. What if he found the two scrolls in her bedchambers? Was that enough to persecute her? He would, at the very least, find out she’d lied if he saw that, and she was sure he would then tell the emperor everything. She and Yat-sen would be discovered.
Nikator led the way back to her chambers and although she should have tried to memorize the path—it could potentially help her in the future—she couldn’t stop thinking of her own execution. Her mind traveled to those three naked torso corpses and she imagined herself in that position. Fear trickled down her spine, chilling her down to her bones.
When they reached her door, she finally heaved a sigh of relief; finally, she could put this behind her. She needed a few moments of just peace, quiet, and her own thoughts to mull over.She also needed a better hiding spot for the two scrolls she had pilfered—and she still had to read them to see if they were useful in any way. For all she knew, they could be spells on how to tie her hair together.
Right when she was about to slam her door in his face, his hand shot out and he grabbed the edge of it.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying again to close the door, but he held it tightly, refusing to let go.
“What part ofguarddo you not understand?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You don’t … you don’t mean to …?”
He smiled—almost innocently, and it was like a slap to the face. “Do you truly think I’d leave you alone to your own devices? I will be guarding youday and night.”
Day … and night.
That wasn’t right; thatcouldn’tbe right.
“You—you lecherous beast! It’s improper for you to even suggest that you will be watching me during the night! How—how can you even … How can you even say such a thing?” Biyu’s body trembled and she inadvertently stepped back; she wasn’t even sure if she should be disgusted or horrified, or both. But she was mostly terrified, because if he really was watching her like a hawk, then she would be surely be executed once he realized what she was up to.
She needed to hide those scrolls.
“Call me all the names you want, but it doesn’t change that I’ll be guarding you more competently than your previous guards.” He pushed the door further open and brushed past her until he was standing in the center of her chambers. His narrowed, critical gaze slowly swept over the furniture, her bed, the vanity, and everything else. He paused at the couch she rarely sat upon and flicked aside the two identical crane-embroidered pillows, and plopped down in the center of it. Itwas supposed to be for two people, and yet he took up most of the space, and his long legs almost looked comical, bent as they were. He waved a lazy hand toward her. “Do as you normally do. Pretend like I’m not even here.”
That was easier said than done.
Biyu crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I need to bathe? Or change? Or relieve myself? Will you stand there and watch? I would rather have a female guard, if I’m to be watchedday and night.”
“Do you need to bathe yourself?”
“Not right now!”
“Then worry about it later.” He waved dismissively.
He was infuriating.
Her fists shook. “But what about when I need to do that? I don’t want to worry about it later! I usually bathe in the evenings?—”
“I’ll step out when you need me to, but the instant you take a suspiciously long time—” The threat hung in the air for a moment before he shrugged. “You understand what I’m saying, yes?”
Biyu could only continue to stare at him dumbstruck. He really was planning on shadowing her every step, her every move. She didn’t dare glance at the two scrolls stuffed beneath her mattress. Not only was this a breach of privacy, this just … wasn’t right.
But she was a prisoner. The realization, thereminder, dawned on her in that moment, deflating whatever rage she wanted to wreck on him. She couldn’t forget that the small luxuries she had been given—the privacy of her own room—were simply that, luxuries. Most prisoners weren’t afforded that much, and just as the emperor had given it to her, so could he just as easily take it away. Like now.
Arguing would get her nowhere; in fact, it might make her more suspicious in Nikator’s eyes, and that would only make him stay longer. She needed to prove to him that she wasn’t a threat and then she could move on with the plan. Yat-sen and Biyu had been prisoners for five years now—what was a few more weeks on top of that?
Without another word, she stomped over to the window and sat down on the bench there. She was all too aware of Nikator’s gaze honed in on her, but she pretended like he wasn’t there, and propped her arms on the window sill, leaned against them, and gazed down at the gardens. She would show him just how boring her everyday life was, and then, maybe, he would learn that there was nothing for him to do here.
11
Biyu’s daywent as insipidly as usual, this time with an annoying, terrifying warrior shadowing her every step. For about an hour, she gazed out at the gardens and daydreamed as she usually did. Then, she took another hour or so to languidly paint Jade, who ignored Nikator and lounged on the bed until she grew bored and left the chambers in a very typical, very grumpy-cat-like manner. Then, she ate a midday meal, which Nikator joined her in; the maidservant who brought the meals didn’t even bat an eyelash as she set the two meals down on the tea table for them. The entire time, Nikator didn’t say a word. He only watched her.
After that, she sat on her bench and stared at the gardens once more; normally, she would have taken a short nap at that point, but she couldn’t with him in the same room. She could tell he was growing bored and restless by the way he stared up at the ceiling, tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest of the couch, and glared at her from time to time—as if she was purposefully wasting his time.
After silently eating dinner with him, Biyu stretched her legs and practiced calligraphy for another hour. Until, finally, it was time for her bath. The maidservants, right on time, knockedon her door and brought in a large, round wooden tub. More servants entered carrying buckets of steaming water, which they poured in the bathtub. Most of them cast furtive, curious looks at Nikator, but none of them questioned anything.
When they left, Biyu wrung her hands together and glanced at the door, then back at him. He had risen from his position and was now stretching his long legs and arms; she couldn’t rip her gaze away from the corded muscles along his impressive frame until he caught her staring. A slow, knowing grin stretched on his face.
