It had been a hot topic even when they were young girls; all the noble daughters would giggle about it and gossip about who did what with whom. All the scandals in court. Servants talked. So did guards, nobles, and just about everybody.
Plus they were both in their early twenties! They certainly knew about it, though Biyu had no experience in the matter.
“So when a man … is …excited—I suppose that is the word we’ll go with.” Li-ling bobbed her head like she truly didn’t want to be here. “Well, then his, um, appendage?—”
“Lady Li-ling,” Biyu interrupted, raising her hands. “We both know, um, the activities that transpire in the bedroom.”
There was a pause. Then, Li-ling sagged against the cushioned couch. Her relief was nearly palpable. “Oh, thank the heavens. You should have said so sooner! I told Muyang that you both were grown adults and likely knew about the matter, but he didn’t want to shock you both, so he insisted on the matter.” She reached forward and grabbed a handful of sugared nuts and dried fruit. She popped a few in her mouth and chewed on them. “I’m relieved you’re not too sheltered. Some princesses never learn about bedroom activities and are left in shock, tears, and dismay when they learn firsthand during their wedding night. I’ve heardplentyof horror stories.”
Liqin’s face paled.
Li-ling seemed to notice, because she reached over the table and patted Liqin’s hand. “Oh, sweet-heart, don’t look so jaded. Zihao is a very kind and gentle soul; he would never hurt you or force himself on you.I promise. I’ve known him for years and he truly is a wonderful choice of a husband.”
Biyu didn’t know how to react to Liqin’s predicament and her helplessness on marrying someone she didn’t want to. Perhaps Biyu didn’t feel the same way Liqin did because she had a strange feeling that she wasn’t going to marry Jian. That and the fact that she was already married to Nikator—a fate that didn’t comparatively seem that bad, even if it was mostly a secret and they were both trying to break it.
She brushed off the crumbs and stray sesame seeds from her hands.
“If either of you ever faceanyissues with your husbands, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me,” Li-ling said, her gaze lingering on Biyu. There was a sternness about her that clashed with her bubbly personality—a warning, of some sorts. Her voice dropped. “You are both princesses of the MuRong dynasty; you are both precious gems, even if the Drakkon dynasty reigns now. Do you understand me? His Majesty will not tolerate any injustices toward you both, including from your husbands. Ifanythinghappens, please contact me. You can write to me or have a mage summon a letter to me.”
Li-ling seemed to realize that Wu Jian wasn’t as good a person as he wanted everyone to believe, because she was staring straight at Biyu as she spoke about anyone mistreating them. It was probably meant to reassure them, but Liqin appeared even paler than before.
“I—I must retire to my room. Apologies—” Her sister rose to her feet and swayed, almost falling over.
Biyu lurched to her feet and grabbed Liqin’s elbow. “Are you all right?”
“I must have risen too fast.” She grabbed the side of her face and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m well?—”
“Let me escort you to your room.” Li-ling rounded the table and took Liqin’s other hand. Her forehead creased together in concern. “What’s troubling you?”
“Nothing—”
“Surely, it’s something. Are you nervous about your wedding day?”
“N-no?—”
Li-ling didn’t seem to buy it, because she only bobbed her head and ushered her toward the door. “We can talk in your chambers. Come on now.” She paused, as if forgetting about Biyu, and glanced over her shoulder. “Princess Biyu, can you find your way back to your room? I’m really sorry about this?—”
“No worries. I can figure out my way back.”
It was too perfect an opportunity—so perfect that Biyu actually suspected something was amiss. How could Li-ling simply leave Biyu in her chambers where she had dozens of scrolls in her bookshelf? What if it was a trap? But it was too tempting an occasion to leave empty handed, especially when her attempts at the library had proved to be fruitless.
Biyu rushed over to shelves and yanked out the first scroll she could get her hands on. She skimmed the contents—a spell about teleportation and the properties behind it. She shoved it back and took out another. Her heart hammered in her chest the entire time. Nikator could burst in at any moment, or any other guard. Or maybe Li-ling would return to her chambers after escorting Liqin? She couldn’t explain herself out of this if she was caught.
Her thoughts traveled to Yat-sen’s letter, particularly his mention of a “white lotus.”
He must have been referring to Li-ling. Did he know that they could use something from her like this? Did he know an opportunity like this would present itself?
Biyu glanced over her shoulder at the door, half-expecting someone to enter.
Her stomach twisted in knots and she pulled out another scroll. How much time did she have? Minutes, at best. She unfurled it and nearly gasped at the title.
Death by shadows.
Her hands began to perspire the more she read about the spell—it was exactly as it sounded. A powerful, fatal spell that would overtake someone with thousands of wisps of leeching shadows. With trembling fingers, she rolled up the scroll and tucked it within one of the pockets of her dress.
She needed to get to Yat-sen and give this to him as soon as possible.
But did she have time to leave here and find him?
