She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He only continued to glare at her. Biyu’s lips trembled and she foughtthe urge to vomit, or faint, or … or do something to embarrass herself further. He already knew she was terrified of Drakkon Muyang; she didn’t need to make him think that she was more scared than usual because of her treason. She had seen the way the emperor handled traitors; once, in the beginning of his reign, he had purged all of the people in the palace who still aligned with her father. Then he had called everyone to the throne room. She could still remember the scent of iron, the pungent rot and death that pervaded the air. He had a pile of corpses in the center of the room and he sat upon them, blood oozing and dripping from the stacked, severed bodies.
She remembered the cruel smile that had twisted his lips. The wickedness that had graced his beautiful face. “Are there any more traitors in our midst? Come, join your brethren.”
He must have realized she was a traitor. She shouldn’t have involved herself. She shouldn’t have thought she was smart enough to pull this off. Or stealthy enough. Or strong enough. She was just weak-willed Biyu. She was useless. She was?—
“He doesn’t know.” Nikator’s words snapped her out of her self-deprecating, spiraling thoughts.
Biyu flinched. “But how do you know?”
“Because if he found out you bound us in a cursed marriage, he wouldn’t wait to summon you. He would come here himself and force you to explain yourself.”
“Then why—” Her voice cracked and she laced her hands together to keep from trembling so hard. “Why would he call for me?”
He watched her carefully, silence stretching thin between them both. Then, finally, he said, “I’m not sure, but we should hurry.”
Biyu released a shuddered breath. She wanted to run. To scream. To cry and go somewhere else away from all these people. She hated being on precipice of life and death at alltimes, because being an imprisoned princess meant that she could be executed any day now for whatever reason—she wasn’t supposed to even be alive, actually, since most usurpations resulted in the immediate deaths of all royals. Even if Drakkon Muyang didn’t know she was a traitor, he could do whatever he wished with her life.
She was only alive because of his whim.
17
Biyu had walkedto the gardens several times, but it had never felt more like she was walking to her death than it did in that moment. She didn’t even know how her weak, wobbly legs even carried her out there. The sticky summer air skimmed across her cheeks and her neck; she shivered despite the warmth radiating from the cloudless sky. Nikator shadowed her as they walked the twisted paths to the southern gardens; she hadn’t been allowed there in years, but she barely noticed the swaying cherry blossom trees nor the fragrant, blossoming jasmines or roses or chrysanthemums.
Biyu knew the emperor was nearby because of the ominous, heavy presence of his magic. It stifled her, draining her willpower with every heavy step forward. All of her instincts told her to run, and yet Nikator’s presence beside her halted her from those drastic measures. If she ran, he would catch her. And then she’d be in even more trouble. Making the emperor wait could, in some cases, result in an execution.
They passed by a small pond she used to jump in when she was a young girl running from her servants. And then they reached their destination: a giant octagonal pergola beside the body of water. Guards stood outside of it while half a dozenguests were inside, lounging on couches and dripping in silks, gold, and gems. She recognized a few of the nobles speaking to one another, but she couldn’t remember their names.
Drakkon Muyang sat on one of the couches. He was dressed in his royal regalia; a glimmering hair crown that reflected the sunlight despite the roofed building, and deep red and black robes that made him appear more striking, more terrifying. The sunlight played across the scars on his jaw and eyebrows. His wife, Daiyu, sat beside him, chattering happily to another woman adjacent to her. Her skin was flushed and glowing, her grin wide and cheery—pregnancy was becoming on her. The emperor stared at her the entire time, his expression … thoughtful. Soft, even.
Her steps slowed. She had never thought he could wear such a look. Was he perhaps … actually in love with her? The notion was absolutely absurd. Drakkon Muyang was a man incapable of loving anyone but himself.
“Your Majesties,” Biyu said when she reached a few feet away from him. She dropped down to her knees, her hands pressing on the clean wooden floor. She kept her head lowered; she felt Nikator drop down to a bow as well, though his was not as low as hers.
“You may rise.” The emperor’s voice was velvety, calm, and it invoked a deep terror within her.
Biyu rose to her feet tentatively. She didn’t meet his gaze as she stared at her feet.
“Princess Biyu, so nice to meet you again.” Daiyu smiled warmly at her, her brown eyes soft. She motioned to the tables with tea and then to the empty seats. “Please, have some tea and snacks. This weather is so scorching, isn’t it? Some tea can offer some respite, I hope.”
Daiyu waved another hand at the three low tables in front of the couches. They brimmed with light food. Baskets of steameddumplings, rolls, and buns. A tray full of an assortment of nuts, dried plums, and sliced fruit. Mooncakes, sweet glutinous rice flour balls coated in sesame seeds and bursting with sweet red bean paste, and rice cakes. Although the spread looked delicious, Biyu had no appetite for tea or snacks.
“Please, have something to eat,” Daiyu offered.
“Ah, thank you.” Biyu tried to return her smile, but she was sure it came out strained.
She licked her lips and spared a glance at Muyang, only to find him staring at her with a peculiar expression. Intrigue, maybe? A jolt of fear zapped through her being and she quickly averted her attention to the silk shoes poking out beneath her lavender skirts.
“I was surprised to learn from Bohai that you decided to becoming Princess Biyu’s guard,” Muyang said, and it took her a moment to realize he was speaking to Nikator, whose scowl broke away to a grin.
“You know me, always up for a challenge.” Sarcasm touched his words.
The emperorchuckled.
It took everything in Biyu not to gape at both of them. She had never seen Drakkon Muyang laugh normally—she was more accustomed to cruel laughter, or a deranged half-laugh before he said something wicked.
She shuffled on her feet; although Daiyu had told her she could take a seat, since the emperor had summoned her here, she couldn’t leave without him first dismissing her or telling her to sit somewhere. She noticed the curious stares sent her way and she tried her best to ignore them.
There were six people beside the emperor and empress who were present. Two women whom she vaguely recognized but couldn’t put a name to. General Han, who stuffed three sesame balls in his mouth while his wife, the vicious and beautiful LadyMingxia, known for being cunning and sharp, hid her laughter behind a ruby-encrusted hand fan. Then there was Minos, who winked at her, and then another man she didn’t recognize.
