Page 45

I pressed on. “With the soldiers under his command, Wugang could strike at any moment. He is both ruthless and cunning; he won’t let this opportunity pass. How long can your guards protect Liwei? Can they stand against the Celestial Army?” I leaned across the table, close enough to see my reflection in her eyes. “Help me get him out.”

She did not reply. I could almost hear the scales in the empress’s mind weighing the tallies, calculating how to swing this to her advantage. She wanted to save her son, but she would not let me off unscathed.

“Why do I need you?” she demanded.

How she despised the very idea. Yet this question was more than spite—a tool to make me plead for her aid, to turn me into the supplicant. There was little need for that; I would promise her anything I could, for I needed her too.

“The great Celestial Empress should do nothing to risk her position.” I kept my expression blank, masking the contempt in my words. “You don’t want to oppose your husband openly. Help me and I will get Liwei away, while you remain blameless.”

As her pupils gleamed brighter, I continued, “We both want him to be safe. We want the same thing.”

“We do not,” she seethed.

A mistake, to speak of us together. She would hate the association; she would think it beneath her.

Her nails dug into the table, carving fresh marks on the pitted wood. “I want him to rule the Celestial Kingdom as the most powerful monarch across the realms—his name revered by immortals and mortals from the moment their tongues form words till they fall silent in death. I want him to become the greatest immortal who ever lived, while you just want him for yourself. You will diminish him, as you already have—before his father, the court, and the realm.”

I shook my head. “I never asked him to give up anything for me.”

“Yet you would have let him turn his back on his position, his heritage and family.” A cruel smile lit her face. “You would not be happy though. Liwei is not meant for the type of life you crave. My son is used to greatness, to being adulated and revered. His heart is soft; he would not outwardly blame you, but know this—you, alone, will never be enough for him. Dissatisfaction would sink in, morphing into resentment. And finally … hate.”

Her words bore the malice of a curse. She had seen into my deepest fears and most selfish desires, casting them in a shameful light. Nor could I object when she spoke the truth—I would have let him. I had almost convinced myself that this was what he wanted, rather than a sacrifice for my sake alone. A cowardly act, for it was easier this way, rather than undertaking a burden I would bear for the rest of our lives.

“I don’t trust you,” she hissed. “You say you want to help him, but you are just afraid to lose your hold over him.”

“I could say the same of you.” I leashed the more vicious responses that surged to my tongue. It did not matter what venom she spat; Liwei’s safety was at stake. “What will it take for you to believe me?” I braced myself, for I had bargained once with her husband and nearly lost everything. I would tread carefully this time, though I was certain her price would not be to my liking.

“One condition. Just one, and no other.” Her smile radiated genuine pleasure. “He proposed marriage to you. Swear to me that you will refuse, that you will break it off with him forever.”

“No.” The refusal sprang from my lips, born in the heat of anger yet tempered by a rush of dread.

“You must have your doubts. Why else have you not accepted?” Her tone was silken, her gaze pitiless—a predator secure in its prey. “You are ill suited for the demands of an empress, unworthy of the honor. The Celestial Court will not let you forget that every day of your existence. They will scorn you behind your back, sneer at you beneath their smiles, eagerly awaiting the day that you will be displaced by another—the inevitable fate of an empress.”

Spite coated each word, yet beneath lurked pain. The Celestial Emperor’s infidelities were known far and wide. I ignored the pity stirring in me; she did not deserve it.

“I will not agree.” Strong words, if only my voice had not quavered.

“Then I will keep my son close to me in the Jade Palace.”

The empress was wrong, she could not protect him. However, she was arrogant and vindictive enough to convince herself that she could. “You would sentence him to death,” I made myself say. “How long until Wugang moves against you? What will happen to Liwei then? If you defy your husband openly, it will only strengthen Wugang further.”

Her lips pursed. Although I had foiled her plan to capture me, I was still the perfect piece for her to play. All she had to do was feign innocence and malign me, both of which she was adept in doing.

“What choice do you have?” I pressed. “You can’t send Liwei to your kin in the Phoenix Kingdom, not while they’re allied with the Celestial Kingdom.”

“He would have been safe there had he wed Princess Fengmei. Do not presume to tell me what I can or cannot do. I don’t need you to protect my son.”

She jerked to her feet again, flicking down the skirt of her robe contemptuously. I had thought the urgency of the situation and her love for Liwei would suffice to persuade her. I had miscalculated, misjudged, tripped myself in my haste by bruising her pride. She would never let me—a nobody—appear to get the better of her. She would leave, for spite was a well that ran deep in her, and she would tell herself this was for Liwei’s sake.

Despair sank over me. Part of me wanted her to go, to reject her loathsome terms. Yet she had read me better than I had read her. She wanted Liwei to be free of me, and nothing else I offered would suffice. And despite my protests, she knew I would yield—for I could not toy with his life.

“Wait.” My voice was low. Unwilling. “For this to work, you must break the palace wards which bar me from entering.”

She turned around, her face alight with triumph. “Swear that you will end your relationship with Liwei forever. Swear to never tell anyone of this. Swear this on your mother’s life,” she demanded with ruthless cunning, “and it will be done.”

Fury seared me, edged with pain. Yet her gloating expression roused me from the depths of defeat. I would not be a fool; I would salvage whatever I could from this wreckage. I would make her surrender something of value in return.

“I have not agreed to your terms,” I told her.