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“One would be free.”
“One would be poor.” I look around the vast hall with its opulent furnishings, the trays of food carried by the attendants, the skilled musicians plucking stirring melodies from their zithers. It is every bit as wondrous here as I dreamed. “There is an old tree near my home, with a good view of your palace. When things got bad, I’d climb up and stare at your home, trying to escape my life by imagining yours.”
He takes a sip from his cup, his long fingers clasped around it. “Everything seems perfect from the outside—only closer do the flaws emerge.”
This discussion edges perilously close to something real. He speaks with a weight that tugs at my chest like he bears burdens I know nothing about.
“What do you wish for that you don’t have, Your Highness?”
His smile is enigmatic. “Since you’re staying for now, why don’t you take a closer look here? Tell me what flaws you find, and we’ll see if we agree.”
As his mood lightens, everything seems a little brighter. “If I do this, will I still owe you my shoes?”
“Just one. It would make it harder for you to run away.”
I laugh, as he does. “Oh, I’m not planning on running away.”
He leans toward me. “What if you encounter a fearsome beast or monster?”
“Then, yes, I’ll run. Life is too precious for considerations of honor or valor,” I admit.
A beat of silence, his eyes fixed on mine. “I think you’ve seen a monster or two before, and that you didn’t always run.”
I don’t correct him, taking another large mouthful of food while the prince barely touches his. I should enjoy every bite, each song the musicians play—but my senses are attuned to the one beside me. I don’t know why I’m here, what he expects of me. This isn’t as simple as telling someone a quick fortune and never seeing them again. There is far more at stake; this customer holds my life in his hands.
“I saw you, earlier,” he says abruptly, still looking at me. “Outside the walls.”
A chill sweeps through me as I set down my chopsticks. “I saw Your Highness too, but I didn’t know who you were then.”
“I know.” His piercing gaze seems to soften. “Else you wouldn’t have stolen Lord Chen’s invitation.”
“I don’t know what Your Highness means.” Careless and clumsy, but I’m grasping for the right lies.
“It was well done; he didn’t have the slightest idea.” Prince Zixin raises his cup to me in a toast. “Almost like you’ve done such a thing before.”
He speaks with such certainty there’s no point denying it. I look up at him, my body braced as it does for flight. Yet there’s nowhere to run to, nowhere I’d be safe should he choose to hunt me. “Will you send me to prison? The mines?” I ask in a low voice.
He laughs, the sound easing my tension. “No harm was done. Lord Chen has many friends here who would gladly bring him into the palace.” When I don’t reply, he adds, “I was intrigued that you went to such lengths to attend my ball. I hoped to see you again.”
I nod, still dazed. I did want to see him too, though I’d wanted my ring more. “My step-aunt took our invitation and wouldn’t let me come.”
“Did you know her plan to steal from my guests?” His tone shifts, losing its lightness.
“No,” I protest, though it had been my suggestion. “Why did you believe me, after you’d seen what I’d done?”
“I trust my instincts,” he says somberly. “I sensed you were telling the truth. Nor did you take anything else from Lord Chen—just the invitation.”
I breathe out slowly. The prince isn’t looking at me with condemnation, but with an unreadable light in his eyes. “I didn’t steal Lady Wang’s bangle. I didn’t steal from your guests; I wouldn’t do such a thing.” Only because I’m not as greedy as Mistress Henglan and value my own safety more.
“I believe you.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” His words matter, not just because they’ll keep me out of prison—but because I’m starting to want his trust, for him to think well of me.
“Here, you will be under my protection. You will have everything you desire,” he tells me quietly. “And nothing to fear.”
It’s like I’ve gone from winter to spring, the warmth in his words thawing the ice within. I pick at my food, searching for something to say, suddenly afraid of boring him. Guards surround a small pedestal on the side of the dais, upon which a crown lies. It’s crafted of silver-bright iron, sculpted dragons flanking a luminous jewel.
“I’ve seen this in a painting of King Baoyu. What is the stone?” I ask.
