Page 158 of Savage Throne
She hesitated. “Before we went to the feast.”
The words sent another jolt of fury through me.
My teeth clenched, and my jaw ached as I fought to keep my voice steady. “And what did he say?”
Her brow furrowed as if trying to remember. “He said. . .it was what he gave your mother when she became Mountain Mistress.”
Not exactly true.
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose as the realization settled over me like a dark, suffocating cloud.
How many times had I seen that same ring on my mother’s finger?
And now, my father had placed it on Moni’s finger like a brand.
A declaration.
The past rushed in yanking me into a memory I hadn’t allowed myself to visit in years.
I was eight years old, standing in the crowd with Yan. She was tugging on my hand, bored and restless, but I couldn’t look away from the spectacle unfolding in front of us.
The park in the center of the East had been transformed for the occasion.
Blue silk banners fluttered in the wind and the scent of incense hung heavy in the air.
The entire clan was there—soldiers, advisors, their families—all gathered to witness what my father called "The Rededication."
My father never really spoke of his emotions, but on that day, he wore them like armor. His voice boomed through the space as he stood beside my mother.
And she looked radiant, dressed in a sapphire qipao embroidered with silver. She’d had her hair swept up and a sapphire crown sat atop it.
He placed that ring on her finger for the first time in front of everyone. “Ten years ago, I made this woman my wife but I couldn’t give her the wedding she deserved. Back then, we were battling poverty. Every ounce of strength, every dollar we had went to ensuring our survival.”
The crowd was silent, hanging on his every word.
“So today, I correct that mistake. Today, I show the East what this woman means to me.” He turned to her then. “This woman isn’t just my wife. She is my heart. If I am the Mountain Master then she is the Mountain Mistress. You should know that the woman who wears this ring is in possession of everything I have, everything that I am. My loyalty, my devotion, my soul.”
The crowd erupted into cheers.
The memory faded and I was back in the present with my fingers curling into fists.
That ring wasn’t just a symbol of tradition or power.
It was a declaration of my father’s love, a vow carved into stone that all the East would recognize, even if Moni had no idea what it meant.
And now my father had given it to Moni—myMoni.
Why?
The answer churned in my gut.
I opened my eyes.
She watched me. “Lei. . .talk to me. . .”
This isn’t just a gesture of tradition. That’s bullshit that he told her.
It was something else, something far more dangerous.
