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“You haven’t won yet,” he reminded me, before heading toward the soldiers practicing with swords.

“Neither have you,” I muttered to myself.

I decided to remain by the archery boards. My fingers itched to hold the bow again—to feel the raw exhilaration as the arrow sprang free, the satisfaction when it struck true. Plucking another, I drew it through the bow, trying to recall Liwei’s instructions.

“You shouldn’t have taken that wager. His Highness is an excellent shot,” someone remarked from behind me.

My concentration broke, my body jerked. The arrow flew wide of the target.

I spun around to find a Celestial soldier watching me. She was striking, with light brown skin and a smattering of freckles across her nose, her eyes slightly upturned at the corners. Her full lips were twisted into a grimace as she inspected my arrow, buried unceremoniously in the dirt. “Yes, you definitely should not have accepted that wager,” she repeated.

Was this another Jiayi, concealing malice beneath a veneer of civility? My nod was cool, dismissive, even. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll be fine.”

I thought she would leave, but she folded her arms across her body. Did she intend to watch? Maybe hoping I would humiliate myself?

I turned my back to her, wishing she would go. Drawing another arrow, I released it. It struck the board, quivering from the ring closest to the center. More likely through fortunate coincidence than my untrained abilities, but I couldn’t resist saying, “Maybe His Highness is the one who shouldn’t have accepted.”

“Not bad for your third try.” Her compliment took me by surprise. More so, when she wrapped her hand over her fist, inclining her head to me. “I’m Shuxiao.”

My mind went blank; I was unused to such civility. In the Golden Lotus Mansion, I had never been accorded such courtesy. While here, it was Liwei upon whom all attention was fixed.

She tilted her head to one side, perhaps wondering at the awkward silence. Hastily, I returned her greeting. As I straightened, I thought furiously for something to say. The weather would be too dull. We had no friends in common, or rather I had none to speak of. And I couldn’t ask after her family when I was unable to speak of mine.

“Do you enjoy being a Celestial soldier?” I finally managed.

“Who wouldn’t?” she said with a straight face. “It’s marvelous being ordered around most of the time, expected to obey without question, getting thrashed during training, and feeling lucky when you don’t wind up dead from an assignment.”

I recoiled. “It sounds . . . dreadful.”

“I haven’t told you the best part. Do you see what we have to wear?” She poked at her armor. “It’s heavier than it looks, if that’s possible. And when we walk, we clank like pots and pans. It’s a good thing we’re taught to conceal the sound from our enemies.”

“Why do you do it?” I couldn’t help asking.

She shrugged. “Who wouldn’t want to serve the Celestial Emperor and our kingdom?”

Was that catch in her voice earnestness or sarcasm? I couldn’t tell and decided it would be wisest to remain silent as she selected a bow from the rack.

“I heard you study with His Highness. Do your parents serve at court?”

I shook my head, moving aside to make space for her, hoping she would ask me something else. Anything else.

She raised her bow, adjusting her aim as she inspected the target. Her arrow whistled through the air, striking the board near the center.

“A good shot,” I remarked.

She grimaced. “Archery is my bane; I’ve practiced so much and still can’t hit the center. Swords, I prefer. Or spears.” She peered at me, not to be diverted. “Are you a Celestial? Is your family from here?”

I stared ahead with feigned concentration. “My family is no more.” The lie came easier to me now, though the shame burned just as hot. I had little choice but to maintain the pretense, as Liwei believed my parents deceased.

She was quiet for a moment, before reaching out to pat my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sure they would be proud of you.”

My chest tightened. How wretched I was to claim her sympathy under false pretenses. And yet, how desperately I wished her words were true. I could not help wondering how my mother would feel, now that I served the household of the emperor who had imprisoned her.

“The courtiers were grumbling about a ‘nobody’ winning the position with Prince Liwei,” she added. “Highest compliment in my opinion. How did you do it?”

“Luck,” I said with a flippancy I did not feel, irked at the same time. I would not be a “nobody” forever. They would know my name one day, and those of my parents.

“Where is your family?” I tried to shift the conversation away from me.