Prologue
Nanjing, Ming Dynasty China, 1469
Chelsie, youngest daughter of Bethesda the Heartstriker, knelt prostrate on the black marble floor. Beside her, her mother, adorned in Aztec gold from head to toe, knelt even lower, pressing her crowned forehead against the cold stone as she wept tragic, beautiful tears that somehow left the dark paint around her eyes perfectly intact. It was a stellar performance, and it should have held all of Chelsie’s attention. Bethesda never put that much effort into tears unless shereallywanted something. Now, though, Chelsie barely spared her a glance, because for once her mother was not the most dangerous thing in the room.
“Whore of the Heartstrikers.”
The angry voice was dry as old paper, and Chelsie lifted her red-rimmed eyes to the massive golden throne shaped like a coiled dragon that dominated the marble hall’s northern end. In the middle of the coils, where the dragon’s head should have been, was a second throne of pure white jade with a god-like man sitting on top of it. His entire body from head to feet, including his face, was veiled in golden silk, not that it changed anything. Even with the heavy cloth, Chelsie couldfeelhis angry eyes on her like teeth. But despite his obvious fury, the god-like man’s was not the voice that had spoken.Thatbelonged to the ancient dragoness sitting beside him on the slightly smaller, but still incredibly ornate, black jade throne that had been built into the coils of the golden dragon’s tail, glaring down at the bowing Heartstrikers in absolute disgust.
“You must have a death wish, harlot,” the old dragoness spat, her face—which already looked like wrinkled rice paper—crumpling even tighter in her rage. “Coming here yourself after what your wretched, shameless daughter has done. But then, you always were as deranged as your father, the Quetzalcoatl. Perhaps you are proud to have produced a dragoness whose morals are even more degraded than your own?”
“That is why I have come to you, Empress Mother,” Bethesda said tearfully, raising her head so that the gold-shrouded man on the white-jade throne could see the full effect of her beautiful weeping. “My youngest daughter is as stupid as she is ambitious. I sent her to your empire to form a simple alliance, but she had plans of her own, and now her bungled power grab has caused great pain for both of our clans. I have no excuse for her failures. I can only throw myself on your legendary mercy and beg the boon of your forgiveness.”
“Mercyisthe privilege of the powerful,” the Empress Mother agreed, resting her long, lacquered nails on the gold-swathed arm of the man beside her. “But my son is no mere dragon. He is the Qilin, the Golden Emperor, Dragon of the Middle Kingdom, Living Embodiment of All Good Fortune, and Head of All Clans. He can easily afford to be merciful, even to ones such as you, but what have you done to deserve it?” Her cold, reptilian-red eyes flicked to Chelsie. “This is no mere insult. Your daughter has dirtied our family name, leaving us open to rank gossip and ridicule. These injuries are not so easily mended, even for ones as great as ourselves.”
“And I am prepared to make amends,” Bethesda said immediately. “I have wealth, gold—”
“We have plenty ofthat,” the Empress Mother scoffed, rapping her knuckles on the golden dragon that surrounded her and her son. “We are the dragons of China! All the fabled cities of gold in your pathetic jungle put together wouldn’t merit a blink of my son’s eye. But this is not an injury that can be mended with gold.”
She pointed at Chelsie, who shuddered. “We welcomed your daughter as our guest, showed her great hospitality, and she repaid us with deceit and treachery. She sought to make us look as foolish as you in the eyes of our subjects. It is our good standing, ourprideshe struck, not our coffers, and if you wish to make amends for that, Heartstriker, then you must pay in kind.”
Bethesda’s green eyes grew wary. “What do you mean?”
A cruel smile crept across the Empress Mother’s wrinkled face. “Even among dragons, you are infamous for your arrogance. The stories of you that reach our court are so wild I dismissed them at first, but one look at your gaudy display today shows that was a mistake. You are clearly every bit as prideful, feckless, and self-absorbed as the rumors say, and so that shall be your price.” She pointed at her feet. “Beg,” she commanded. “Get down on the floor and plead for your daughter’s life. Show us that even the Heartstriker can be humble before her betters, and perhaps we shall show mercy.”
By the time she finished, Bethesda had gone still as the stone beneath them, and Chelsie’s tiny flicker of hope began to die. She’d never do it. There was nowayBethesda the Heartstriker would beg for—
Chelsie’s racing thoughts slammed to a halt as her mother dropped her head to the floor, pressing her golden crown flat against the stone with her jeweled hands outstretched on either side in a show of full submission. “Please,” she said, the word shaking with the effort it had clearly taken her to force it out. “Please, Golden Emperor, spare my stupid daughter.”
The Empress Mother laughed in delight. “Excellent!” She cackled, settling back on her throne to enjoy the show. “Now, say you’re a whore.”
Bethesda’s fingers dug gouges into the marble floor, and Chelsie held her breath, bracing for the explosion…that never came. Somehow, impossibly, Bethesda held herself together, glaring hatefully up at the old dragoness as she growled through clenched teeth.
“I am a whore.”
“Louder,” the Empress Mother commanded, waving her hand toward the unseen dragons Chelsie could smell waiting outside in the courtyard. “I want the whole court to hear you confirm what everyone already knows.”
Smoke began to curl from Bethesda’s lips, but again, somehow, she forced the words out.
“I. Am. A. Whore.”
“And a desperate one at that,” the Empress Mother agreed, turning to her son, who had yet to say a word. “You see now, my Emperor? It’s just as I told you. Bethesda the Broodmare is the worst kind of trash. Even before she killed her father, she was famous for shamelessly seducing bigger, better dragons to add more soldiers to her infant army. She’s barely five hundred years old, and already she’s laid five clutches. Five! The last of which hatched just last year.”
Her beady red eyes snapped back to Chelsie. “With such a mother, how can we expect the child to be different? Bethesda claims it was her daughter’s idea, but it is obvious to me that this whole mess was yet another of the Broodmare’s plots. I wouldn’t let her breed her filth into one of our clans, so she sent her daughter to worm her way in by deceit instead. And why not? The Broodmare and her children are cut from the same cloth. The lot of them are nothing but hungry, grasping scavengers who’ll take power any way they can snatch it. They are incapable of speaking the truth and unworthy of your presence. I advise you to kill them both now before they poison our ears with more treachery.”
Bethesda shot to her feet. “Youlying—”
The Empress Mother waved her hand, and dragon magic stronger and older than anything Chelsie had ever felt crashed down on top of them, forcing the Heartstriker back to her knees. “Worms do not stand in the presence of dragons,” she snarled, baring her yellowed teeth. “A creature such as you does not deserve the gift of the Golden Emperor’s condescension, much less his mercy! The best you can hope for is a swift—”
The dragon beside her lifted his hand, and the Empress Mother’s rant cut off mid-breath.
“Is it true?”
His voice was as lovely as the golden throne he sat on. So rich and inviting, it drained the anger from the air. Even Bethesda relaxed when he spoke, but Chelsie could only lower her head. It was impossible to see through the golden shroud he wore to hide the glory of his face from the undeserving, but now as before, Chelsie could feel his eyes through the heavy fabric, boring into her like knives as he repeated the question.
“Is it true, Chelsie?”
The sound of that voice saying her name was almost too much to take. Everyone in the room was looking at her now, including Bethesda, who seemed to be holding her breath. She was wondering if there was any way she could sink straight into the stone when the Golden Emperor snapped, “Look at me.”
