Page 87

“I have heard much of you.” A laugh thrummed in her voice, one of humor not scorn. She pulled off a jade bangle from her wrist and held it out to me, the stone a vivid translucent red. “A gift for you.”

“Thank you, Noble Consort. I must decline.” My refusal came out stiffly, discordant to the generosity of the gesture.

A frown puckered her brow as she slipped the bracelet back over her hand. Perhaps she thought me shy, or more likely, believed me ill-mannered. Except I really did not want it. I was never at ease accepting gifts from strangers, particularly when I did not know their true price.

“Did my son tell you of my terms?” The king’s words hurtled like darts, his keen gaze upon me.

“Yes, Your Majesty, but I do not understand the need for this union,” I said carefully. “Wugang is a grave threat to us all. We should unite to defeat him.”

King Wenming’s fingers tapped the armrest of his throne in a ceaseless, unhurried rhythm. “My son has shared this and more. According to him, Wugang’s army is almost invincible, capable of destroying an immortal with a single strike of their blades. They might even be impervious to our magic, though that has yet to be fully tested.”

I took heart from his words. Perhaps we might be able to convince him of our urgency. “Wugang does not seek to rule just the Celestial Kingdom but the entire Immortal Realm. He will cast his eyes toward the Cloud Wall too, it is only a matter of time.”

“Indeed,” the king agreed smoothly. “Yet the fact remains, you have a favor to ask of me.”

I swallowed, pushing through the thickness in my throat. “We need the Divine Mirror Scroll to stop him.”

“You make it sound like a simple request. Many have sought this to further their own ends. What do you intend to do with the scroll?” His tone hardened, his fingers stilling against his armrest.

Did he think me a liar? Plotting with his son to usurp his power? “If Your Majesty performs the enchantment on me, I can get close enough to Wugang to end this.” I did not reveal the rest of my plan; I did not trust him with it.

“Father, I would have no part in this,” Wenzhi emphasized. “You would perform the enchantment on her alone. Moreover, Xingyin has no talent in our magic; she is no threat to you.”

“I will be the judge of that,” the king said, raising his hand.

Before I could decipher his meaning, violet light streaked from the king’s palm toward me. I reached for a shield, too late, as it struck—jarring, like dust blown into my eyes. I writhed as the discomfort sharpened, stinging like splinters pressed into my scalp. My pulse stuttered, my fingers clawing at my head, trying to wrench myself free of this enemy that had crept in unbidden, unheard, unseen. I grasped my powers, scrambling to erect a barrier—a task as hopeless as plastering sand onto porcelain. The force slammed harder against my consciousness, the pain stabbing deeper, a scream forming in my throat—

“Father, enough!”

The fury and terror in Wenzhi’s voice pierced my daze. His magic surged forth in a dense mist that swept over me, prying loose the malevolent hold on my mind. As he grasped my hand, holding me steady, his power rushed through my veins with a reviving force. My breathing eased yet I could barely move, my senses still scattered from this vicious intrusion.

“Treachery!” the Virtuous Consort snarled, pointing at Wenzhi. “How dare you attack your father, our king?”

“I did not attack.” Wenzhi spoke with stony calm, his eyes glittering dangerously. “No one is allowed to hurt her, not even you, Father.”

His words stirred a warmth in me, underscored by the urge to disdain his protection. But I kept silent from caution, for this place was no less perilous than the Celestial Court.

“The Virtuous Consort makes a wild accusation. She must be drunk on wine,” Wenzhi’s mother said with a bright smile, as she bowed to the king. “Your Majesty, my son did not attack you. He was merely protecting the girl, his intended.”

The king’s face was taut with displeasure as he faced Wenzhi. “I will forgive you this once, but never raise your hand to me again. Guard your feelings better if you intend to rule.”

As the last of the agony subsided, I was shaking, hunched over from the ordeal. Nauseated, feeling violated from within. But I raised my head to meet the king’s gaze. “Never do that to me again,” I warned him, despite the remnants of fear that scraped me.

The king smiled as though savoring my discomfort. “She is strong,” he mused aloud. “However, no talent in our magic, as you said.”

“Next time, Father, accept my word instead of resorting to this.” Wenzhi’s hands were still clenched by his sides.

“I trust only my own eyes and ears. You should learn to do the same, once you ascend the throne.”

Anger flared, that the king had dared to do this contemptible thing to me, as carelessly as flicking a speck of dirt from his robe. I bit down on my tongue, tempering my rage, relieved to not have yielded my thoughts to him during our brief struggle.

He would not have liked what he saw.

A shudder ran through me to think of Wenzhi’s early years—a brother who would have gladly murdered him, a father who scented treachery everywhere. It was little wonder he had grown into such a ruthless strategist; he had been practicing since he was a child, against his own family, no less.

“Father, have I not proven my loyalty?” Wenzhi demanded. “I wish to rid our kingdom of this threat—a far greater danger than the Celestial Kingdom ever was.”

Silence hung in the air. The king leaned back against the throne, a cunning gleam in his eyes. “This is a great favor you ask. How can I be sure you are no Celestial spy? Did you not serve them before?” The accusation slid out, sudden and swift.