His gaze slides to where I touch my waist. “No. You did. It was gifted to you.”
“For you to enjoy?” I don’t know if I manage to keep the fear from my voice.
Yù’chén is no longer smiling. “I may be your villain, Àn’ying,” he says, “but I’m not a monster.”
The seconds tick away between us.
“And what do you want with me now?” I ask again. “Why keep me here, alive, when they could have just killed me as they did—” I draw a sharp breath. I can’t say his name out loud, can’t think about it yet without breaking.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing my breathing to steady. For the feeling of drowning to subside as I pull in lungfuls of air.
When I look up again, Yù’chén is still watching me, his expression inscrutable, his eyes dark. “I don’t want anything from you,” he says.
“Then why am I here?”
It takes a long time for him to reply. “Because I asked my mother to spare your life.” The words rush from him. He studies a spot on the floor between us.
I open and close my mouth several times. “Why?”
A muscle clenches in his jaw.
“Do you plan to imprison me in your palace for the rest of my life?” I’m suddenly furious, if only to hide my fear at the prospect of an eternity here, trapped in darkness as my realm falls into night and everyone I love dies. “Am I to…to service you and please you and—”
“Is it so terrible,” he says, his tone suddenly harsh, “to be here and alive with me rather than dead, Àn’ying?” When Yù’chén finally looks up at me, anger brims in his eyes, his voice.
I can’t do it. I can’t be civil, can’t be logical or clinical, not when everything that happened is still so fresh in my mind, my heart left blazing and broken into a million pieces.
I hold his gaze and reply in a low tone, “I would rather die than be trapped here for a lifetime with you, a monster who is actively destroying my kingdom, my home, and all that I love.” I pack as much vehemence into my next words as I can. “Ihateyou.”
His hands have fisted over the little teacup. “I know,” he says quietly. Something dark passes over his face, then it’s gone—a fleeting cloud in the skies.
Yù’chén stands, spinning the teacup between his fingers. “Eat, Àn’ying,” he says with a casual wave at the food. “If you’re going to spend eternity with a monster like me, might as well do it on a full stomach.”
He melts into the shadows, vanishing before I can reply.
14
Àn’ying
Palace of the Aurora, Kingdom of Night
I don’t know how much time passes until I next see him. As the sun never rises here, I’m only guided by the turn of stars, which seem to shift with a fluidity vastly different from the fixed constellations of the mortal realm.
Every few hours, red scorpion lilies bloom and a tray of food and drink appears in the chamber. The platters are delicately arranged, the dishes cooked to perfection in a way that reminds me of the food I consumed in the Kingdom of Sky.
I pace around the chamber, yet no matter how much I press against the walls or test the invisible wards on the terrace, I can’t find a single point of weakness I can leverage. No access to the outside…except throughhim.
When Yù’chén reappears from the shadows through whatever entryway he’s been using, I stand immediately. “Where have you been?” I demand.
He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that concerns you,” he says, and a corner of his mouth lifts in that smirk. “Unless…Did you miss me after all? Is eternity with a monster starting to sound more palatable?”
He has always known how to draw a response from me. But this time, I only frown. “I want to know how you’re able to do that. Just…appear and vanish at will.”
In the near-unbearable stretch of time that has passed since our last interaction, I’ve been able to think things through. I’ve held on to the memory of Ma and Méi’zi and Lì’líng and Tán’mù in that sunlit forest—and I’ve known that I will do whatever it takes to find a way out and back to them again.
I need to focus. Gain his trust.
“I told you before,” Yù’chén replies, still looking bemused, “we mó have the ability to fold distances and travel through passages of our own making. Only this time, I’m merely making a passage to a different part of my own wing in this palace. It’s how the Palace of the Aurora works.”
