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A shiver courses through me. We’d have a chance against bandits; there’s no ransom the Royal Treasury can’t pay. But assassins demand an impossible price.

“I have done nothing to you,” Prince Zixin rasps, distracting them from me.

“The villages sent their petitions requesting a reduction in taxes after the poor harvests. Your Highness ignored us to impose an additional tax. Many don’t have enough food to feed their families, much less to fatten your treasury. You’ll inflict as much suffering as your father with your selfish ambitions.”

“My three sons were forced to work in your father’s mines,” another interjects, his yellowed eyes pouched. “I buried two. My third was sent home because he lost his leg.”

“I am not my father,” Prince Zixin says. “Change will take time. I ask for your trust.”

The assassins’ accusations pierce me; I think of how my uncle died. But while the tax was Prince Zixin’s command, it was his father’s obsession with the mines that sparked such strife. I want to believe the prince won’t be as merciless, that he won’t ruin the people he should protect. Right now, there is little choice—my fate bound to his.

“We won’t serve you,” the leader says flatly. “Your family has caused enough suffering.”

My knife is almost freed from my sleeve. Holding my breath, I yank it out, its tip slicing my fingertips. I don’t flinch, twisting it around, the sharp edge held up—my body angled to shield the prince from sight. He shifts forward, lowering his bound hands to the blade. Gingerly, I begin sawing the rope around his wrists, cursing at the cheap metal. At last, his binds fray—

“Kill them now, before the palace guards come searching.” The tall assassin hurls down the rope, raising his sword.

Panic grips me. “Let me go, I’m innocent.” I’m trying to delay them, sawing harder, though it’s difficult with my hands behind my back.

“You’re his companion, one of them,” the assassin says harshly.

“No, I’m not a noble; I’m one of you.” I’m trembling, praying I don’t accidentally slit the prince’s vein. “My uncle died in the mines too.”

“Then why were you smiling and walking with the prince?” he retorts. “The silk on your back could feed my family for a month.”

I look down like I’m ashamed. “When the nobles demand, we must obey.”

It hurts to talk, the powder still clinging to my throat, but I’ll try anything to keep them from killing us. With a final wrench of my knife, the last of the rope falls away—Prince Zixin plucking the weapon from my grasp. My heart beats so fast I can hardly breathe.

The tall assassin’s lips roll into an uncompromising line. “No witnesses; I’m sorry. Choose your company with more care in your next life.”

He lunges at me, his sword glinting. As I duck—Prince Zixin slashes through the ropes around me, then dives to stab the assassin’s chest with my knife. Blood spills from the gash, his sword falling from his grasp. Prince Zixin snatches it up, then tosses me my knife. As another assassin lunges at us, the prince pulls me close—our bodies pinned as the blade carves the space where I stood a moment ago. The prince releases me, then swings his sword at the assassins, swiftly taking one down, then the next. His blows are ruthless, dispatching another with a stab to his gut. As the remaining attackers fall back, he lunges to slash one across the throat—

“Behind you,” I cry out, too late, as the tip of a sword sinks into his shoulder.

Prince Zixin spins to kick his attacker away, then staggers back, blood streaming from his wound. I dart between him and the last two assassins, my mind screaming not to risk myself this way. But the prince is protecting me; we’re in this together. If he dies, they’ll kill me too.

They attack him at once, believing I’m no threat. As Prince Zixin slashes at the larger assassin, the slender one leaps toward him from the side, her sword raised. My body is cold as I rush forward—driving my knife into her chest. Soft like an overripe apricot, oozing dark red blood. A pang of remorse strikes hard, the urge to be sick swelling. I’d been aiming for her shoulder, her arm… but missed, my limbs too stiff.

The assassin sucks in a breath, blinking rapidly as I yank my knife out, the blade wet with blood. My fingers tremble as I drop it to the ground. Her eyes widen, ringed with white, and then she collapses. Tears blur my eyes. Stupid to regret my would-be killer. But while my uncle taught me to hunt wild animals for food, to fight, I never learned how to kill someone… someone just like me.

Prince Zixin pulls me close, one arm around my shoulders, his other hand stroking my head gently. We stay like this for a while, not speaking, his heart beating against mine. It’s like he senses I need to steady myself, to keep from falling apart.

“Are you hurt?” he asks hoarsely, as the assassin’s powder finally wears off.

I pull away then, inspecting the wound on his shoulder. “You’re the one who’s hurt.”

He raises his head, calling out for his soldiers—again, louder this time. Then he sinks down, closing his eyes. I kneel beside him, fear gripping me at the sight of the blood pooling on the ground from his injury. “Your Highness, let me get help.”

As I rise, his hand catches mine, his gaze pinning me. “Stay. My guards will come soon.”

I press a handkerchief to his wound. “We must stop the bleeding.”

“Does it not frighten you?” he asks intently. “The way you held the dagger—who taught you how to fight?”

“My uncle. Where I’m from, we need to defend ourselves from bandits and wild beasts.”

A thin smile stretches across his lips. “You are full of surprises.”