But there was no sign of Qian from what I could tell, and when I was about to ask Heng where he was, the door to the en suite bathroom opened, and Qian stepped out, shirtless. He patted his face dry, then noticed me over the plush white towel. He froze for a moment, and then he smiled.
My eyes landed on his toned abs, his narrow waist, and the three jagged lines of scars running across his side. They looked like…claw marks. Heat immediately rose on my cheeks. I spun around, allowing him some dignity, and clasped my hands in front of me, trying not to wring them. I wasn’t used to seeing half-naked princes in my immediate presence.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Qian said, a note of amusement trailing on his words.
“Good morning,” I replied stiffly.
“What brings you to me so early? If I’d known you were coming, I would have made myself decent.”
“Heng let me in.”
Qian let out a huff of a laugh. “His idea of a joke, I would imagine.”
“I don’t find it particularly funny.”
“It was not at your expense, I’m sure, but mine.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was stuck there. My heart beat so loud in my ears, I was absolutely sure Qian could hear it.
“Did it frighten you?” he asked.
“What?”
“Seeing my scars.”
“No,” I said. “I…It wasn’t that.”
“Most people are frightened.”
I risked a glance over my shoulder, but Qian was still shirtless. He picked a grape off his breakfast plate, and I averted my gaze once more. “I’m not most people.”
“No, you’re not. And you don’t have to look away for my sake.”
I bit my lip and willed myself to get it together before I slowly turned around. The initial peek I’d had didn’t show the whole picture. I’d been so distracted by his abs, I’d almost missed all the other scars. Some smaller ones across his arms, faded with time, and some larger ones, but the claw marks on his side and shoulder were the worst. The scars were pink and defined. If I had to guess, he was lucky to have survived them.
“I have nothing to be ashamed about,” he said. “They’re part of me.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Monsters,” he said, and my eyes widened. “I have seen up close and personal just how dangerous they can really be. I like to think of my scars as badges of honor. This one”—he pointed to the pink flesh on his side—“was from an Aoyin, this great beast with sharp claws and a long tongue. It feeds on human brains.”
My jaw dropped. I’d never heard of such a thing.
“And this one”—he pointed to the slash on his shoulder, which I realized now looked like a burn—“was from a jiangshi, a reanimated corpse that sucks the yang energy out of the living.” He pointed to various other scars on his body, recalling injuries he’d sustained from other creatures I’d heard of, like a dragon and a Minotaur. He remembered every mark on his body.
“You’ve been all over the world?”
“You thought I’d help only Jade Mountain? Wherever there are monsters, I am there, too.”
“You killed them?”
“To their credit, they tried to kill me first,” he said, with a roguish smile. “Silver usually does the trick, though.”
“Silver?”
Qian went to the door, where a quiver of arrows was propped up against the wall. He plucked one out, showing the silver tip of the arrowhead. I remembered the rest of his men having a similar arsenal. Were they all one monster-fighting team? “I never go anywhere without them,” said Qian.
“Why?”
