“There seems to be some ancient magic in the Kingdom of Rivers that rejects me. A connection to the land I’m missing.”
My heart pounds so hard against my chest, I wonder if Yù’chén can hear it. “You tried?” I whisper. “After he—”
I can’t bring myself to say it, but he seems to read it from my eyes:After he died.
“Yes.” Yù’chén’s face is as smooth as the surface of the crystal spring in the garden. “I tried to take the throne today, upon my mother’s return. And nothing changed.”
The mortal emperor is crowned when his blood joins with the waters of the Long River.Hào’yáng’s voice rings out in my mind.
“And how,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, “did you try to take the throne?”
“I ascended it,” Yù’chén replies. “I took a seat on it.” His gaze is sharper than a sword. “Why, is there a different way? Some ritual I must complete?”
I’m careful to rein in any expression. “I don’t know. You said nothing changed—what were you expecting?”
“It is believed that if I am crowned, the mortal realm will fall into an eternal night not unlike ours. That the wards between our realms will vanish and our peoples will be able to roam freely between. None of that has happened.”
I think of the ways we clung to our shrinking hours of sunlight, of the mó we’ve had to fend off all these years. How I would be giving all of that up were I to accept his offer.
And yet.Help me protect it, he said last night.
You alone know the way to crown the mortal emperor, a small voice whispers in my head.You alone could change the fate of the realms.
“Say Icouldhelp you find the way to attain the mortal throne.” I watch his expression. “What would you give me?”
“What do you want?”
“I have conditions of my own, if you’d like me to consider your offer.”
He leans forward. “I’m listening.”
It feels like we’re playing a game of chess, like my father taught me when I was young. So I make my move. “First, I want the guaranteed position of High Advisor in your court, decreed by the laws of your realm. Then I want the war to stop as soon as you’re crowned, and I want iron laws set up by you and your mother to protect mortals. Your kind must be banned from hunting them, preying on them, or any acts that harm them.” I pause. My final condition is selfish, derived fromthat long-ago memory of plum blossoms in the sun, my family’s laughter, the light lancing off my sister’s braid. “And I don’t want eternal night in my realm. I want there to be sunlight,” I finish. “For now, those are my four conditions.”
Yù’chén shrugs. “I can declare those conditions before the Court of the Aurora,” he begins, but I shake my head.
“I don’t want just a declaration before your court.” I place my final chess piece. “I want a covenant. With you.”
I’ve thought this through ever since he told me of the magical bargain he made with his mother, which is unbreakable for eternity.
The perfect guarantee.
Yù’chén blinks, surprise edging into his face.
Then he laughs.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“A covenant is for eternity. You want an eternal bond between us, little scorpion?”
I fold my arms. “How else am I to ensure you keep your word, considering your propensity for lying and betrayal?” That wipes the smirk off his face. “Can it be done, if I’m mortal?”
“I believe so. I would need to call upon the magic of my realm, but there have been cases of mortals bound to mó.” Yù’chén pauses. “Even so, Àn’ying, I cannot guarantee any influence over my mother and her decisions on ruling our realm.”
“But you would be emperor of both realms. You would be the reason the two are forged together. So long as your actions do not violate the terms of your covenant with her, she cannot stop you.”
And if I have a covenant with him, I hold the keys to both kingdoms, too.
“You know how she is.” Yù’chén looks away, and I think of how mercilessly she hurt him back in the Temple of Dawn even as he begged her to stop.
