“How is house arrest?” Mistress Ming asked as we walked through the streets of Baimu, examining the wares and produce in the marketplace. Shortly after Ren’s return to the palace, the wisewoman’s murder conviction had been reversed, and she was free to step foot in Sian again. While she’d decided she was content to stay in Wen, she’d promised to visit when the last vestiges of winter left the land.
Glossy emerald leaves adorned the branches above us now as I showed her around town for some light shopping.
I waited politely when Mistress Ming stopped at a stall selling various dried fruits and herbs. “It isn’t really house arrest,” I said. “And it’s not as terrible as you’d think.”
As punishment for frightening the citizens of Hulin and trespassing into the palace, the officials had wanted me imprisoned. But Ren advocated for me, arguing that I’d saved his life and helped prevent a tyrant from stealing the crown. As such, my sentence was lessened to a year of not being allowed to take on any corpse-driving jobs.
But just because I couldn’t work, that didn’t mean I couldn’t teach.
“The pupils keep you busy, I’m sure,” said Mistress Ming.
“Yes, they do. It was a learning curve at first, but now they’re no longer as homesick, and they rather enjoy the lessons. Especially ones involving chicken blood.”
“Delightful,” she said, smiling dryly. We left the stall and resumed walking through the traffic of shoppers and sellers. “Have you spoken to Prince Renshu recently?”
“Not as much these days,” I said. “He’s been occupied.”
“That he has.”
In the last few months, Ren had accomplished more than anyone could ever expect. Not only had he convinced his father to make him crown prince—not too difficult a feat considering the king’s declining health, lack of options, and guilt regarding his former consort’s death—but Ren had also kept his promise to meet with the governor of Wen, where they worked together to arrange the state’s official secession.
I’d rather let them rule themselves, he’d explained to me in a letter,so I can better focus on the kingdom in front of me.
“He has a lot to deal with before he becomes king,” I said to Mistress Ming.
“He hasn’t visited?” she asked while admiring the blush-pink peaches at a produce stand. “He stopped by my hut when he traveled to Wen two months ago.”
“No.” I shook my head. “But we exchange letters every once in a while.”
With his father growing weaker every day, Ren had begun to assume his duties as if he’d already been coronated. He wrote to me about long meetings with the ministers, evenings spent by his father’s bedside, and appointments withmagistrates across Sian eager to inform their future king of the kingdom’s many needs. With so much taking up his time, it was difficult to keep in regular contact, and I’d learned to accept his letters as pleasant surprises.
“Interesting,” said Mistress Ming. “He seemed practically lovesick when I saw him.”
I laughed, the sound coming out strained and awkward. “You’re mistaken, dajie. The prince and I are close, but not—not in that way.”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips, unconvinced. “Are you sure nothing happened during your travels together?”
In his letters, Ren never mentioned our conversation from that ill-fated night at the monastery. He claimed to miss me, and he occasionally brought up memories from our journey together, but he said no more than that. For my part, I felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. Our lives were complicated enough without our feelings tangling things even more.
My smile waned, and I picked up a snow pea, considering whether to buy a bag just to escape the conversation. But Mistress Ming wasn’t one to accept cowardice, and neither was I. So I casually said, “It doesn’t matter. As I mentioned, we’ve both been busy, and I have the monastery and corpse-driving to worry about.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She motioned to the crate of peaches, prompting the vendor to go find a sack. “Speaking of, I suppose I’ve distracted you long enough from your duties. I’ll browse a bit more; you return to the monastery first.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, brows knitting together. “The pupils are busy helping Lilan in the garden. I’m not needed yet.”
“Well, I need you to bring these peaches back to the monastery for me.” She passed me the bagged fruits, then turned to pay the vendor. “I’d rather not lug it around as I shop.”
I rolled my eyes. “All right.”
Secretly, I was relieved. I’d stayed up late planning the pupils’ schedule for the coming week. While Lilan and the students were distracted, I could finally take a moment’s rest.
Mistress Ming swatted my arm. “Run along, then, girl. I’ll see you shortly.”
The peaches grew heavier as I carried them up the slope to the monastery gate. I daydreamed of when I could sit down and enjoy a cup of ginger tea before the afternoon’s lessons.
But the moment I walked into the courtyard, my plans scattered.
A visitor stood in the middle of the pathway, holding on to the reins of the horse beside him. With his back to me, I could see only a black cloak and dark hair falling past his shoulders. He must’ve just arrived, looking up the steps at the temple’s open doors.
