“You seemed adamant in refusing my offer last night, little scorpion. Has that changed?”
I stare at him and he stares back, neither of us relenting, neither of us able to read the other.
“I’m hungry,” I say instead, and without waiting for him to reply, I turn and walk out onto the pavilion.
He trails me as I step out onto the rosewood floors, which turn to soft grass beneath my bare feet as I pass beyond the pavilion. The barren trees come to life, scorpion lilies blooming in their eerie beauty.
At the edge of a cliff, where the waterfall flows into the abyss, a stone table appears. Steam billows from platters of food laid out on it. I glance over at Yù’chén, who waits several paces behind me. In the shadows, his eyes glow crimson from the magic he used to summon our meal.
He averts them as our gazes meet.
A mat woven of tiny starflowers appears beneath my feet, tickling my toes. I sit, pick up the chopsticks, and begin helping myself to the meal. Overhead, scorpion lilies grow in clumps from tree branches, their lambent light pouring over me. They’re meant to mimic lanterns so I won’t have to eat in semidarkness. Though there is something uncanny about a moonlit meal beneath glimmering flowers, I understand the gesture.
After a few moments, Yù’chén approaches. He sits.
This close, I realize how astonishingly wan his skin is, how pale his lips are. My gaze slides lower, and I catch a flash of red and black scales peeking above his collar, dissolving into black veins. All indications that he is overexerting himself on magic usage.
I take a small sip of plum wine. I need the courage, but I also need my head sharp. “What happened to you?” I ask.
He leans an elbow on the table and props his chin on his palm, glancing up at me through dark lashes. “Didn’t sleep well.”
He’s lying.
I’d normally call him out, but I need to aim for diplomacy tonight. Instead, I place a piece of braised quail on his plate. “Eat,” I say, and he stares at me as though he’s never seen me.
To my surprise, he picks up his chopsticks and begins to eat.
“Were you with Sansiran?” I ask. It’s what I assumed, after we ran into Xisenyin last night.She has asked us to remind you that she will be expecting the answers you promised her.
Yù’chén reaches for his carafe of plum wine. “Yes” is all he says as he takes a swig.
His flat tone chills me. I take in his pallor, the dullness of his eyes, and something tightens in my chest.
Did she hurt you?I want to ask, but I think I know the answer already. It’s a question that will get me nowhere in terms of my plans.
“What answers did she want from you?” I reach for a glutinous rice ball. Lì’líng and Fán’xuan used to bicker over these during the Immortality Trials.
Yù’chén glances at me over the rim of his porcelain carafe.
“Xisenyin said it last night,” I add. I put down my chopsticks and place my hands on the stone surface of the table. “If you want me to consider your offer, you’re going to have to tell me more.”
He blinks slowly as he takes another sip of plum wine. “You’re considering my offer,” he repeats.
“I am.”
“A rather drastic change in stance from yesterday’s ‘You will never be heir in the way he was.’ ” His laugh scrapes as he sets down his carafe with a thud. “Did Xisenyin frighten you so much that a monster like me is beginning to look kind in contrast? Have the atrocities of my realm whetted your appetite for a half demon on your kingdom’s throne?”
He’s looking at me, smiling, yet his eyes are dark with anger. An anger I’ve seen him use as a shield for grief.
I hurt him. I need to begin by making amends.
“I was harsh,” I say steadily. I take my time with my words, for the best lies are conceived from a kernel of truth. “Because I was afraid that if I chose you, I would be abandoning Hào’yáng. That I’d be a traitor to my realm and all the promises I’ve made to those I love.
“But I realize that the only way for me to save them and save my kingdom is not to dwell on the past, but to look to the future.” I’m convincing myself as I speak. “And the best path forward for me to keep my promises and protect my loved ones…is with you.”
The seconds trickle past. He’s staring at me, no longer smiling. “If you want me on the mortal throne,” he says at last, “you’ll have to help me figure out how to get it.”
Everything in me stretches taut. I try to keep my voice light as I ask, “What do you mean?”
