Yat-sen was right; unlike him, Biyu didn’t have anyone to worry about. She could leave and … and then what? Be chased for the rest of her life? She was a woman, so it would be even harder for her to “make it” in the outside world. She hadn’t worked a single day in her life, and any skills that she did have—reading, writing, magic—would be suspicious and she would be caught. She would have to marry someone inconspicuous and rely on him so she wasn’t living off the streets, but even that wasn’t safe because her royal mark would stand out too much. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t live a life in this empire if she ran away. She would have to flee to another country, and that had its own issues.
Her head began to throb and she rubbed her temples, the information practically bursting form the seams of her mind. Her decision was becoming clearer, even as the cowardly part of her tried to hide away from the truth. But she couldn’t deny it.
She thought of the guard who had been pleasuring himself while stroking her foot, she thought of the guards who laughed at her as they tugged her toward them, she thought of the nobles who gave her pitying looks or glares, and she thought of Nikator. His blade to her throat, his bright eyes fastened on her.
You have everyone fooled, don’t you? Playing the part of a vulnerable, unassuming princess who can’t do anything, and yet you have fangs, claws, and fire in your soul.
She wanted to be that person so badly. Someone who had fangs, claws and fire. Someone who wanted her freedom more than anything else.
“I’ll help you,” Biyu whispered before she could take it back. She held the ring out for him. “Let’s … let’s beat the emperor.”
Yat-sen stilled, his eyes widening, and then he bobbed his head fervently. “Ah, really? Oh, good.Good. We might actually stand a chance, then. We—” He cleared his throat, his excitement nearly palpable, strumming off his body as he tried to stand still. “Well, first things first, we need to find some books and scrolls to see if there’s anything we can use.”
“All right.” She waved the ring. “Here, take this.”
“No. Keep it.” He folded her fingers over the ring and pushed it toward her. “You’ll be the one sneaking in and out of places, so you need it. You do know how to use stealth magic, yes?”
She shook her head. “I only know some basic spells.”
Yat-sen reached into one of the pockets of his tunic and produced a small scroll about the size of his hand, and placed it on her nightstand. “I’ve written down a few helpful spells to learn. Be careful not to use up too much energy practicing the spells, because that ring doesn’t have that much magic left inside of it. It should be enough to last at least six months if used conservatively. Maybe three if you’re more liberal with it.”
Biyu slipped the ring onto her thumb, but it was still a bit loose. “How should I contact you?”
“Jade. Your cat.” He waved to Jade, who had gone back to napping on the bed, her ears twitching at the sound of her name. She lazily peeled her eyes open to give him a half-lidded stare. “She visits me almost every evening around dinner time.”
Biyu lifted an eyebrow as Jade lazily stretched her arms and got into a better sleeping position. She’d had no idea Jade went to visit her half-brother. It made things easier this way.
“I’ll contact you through other methods,” he said, heading toward the door. “Wait for my next move. I have much to plan now that you’ve agreed to this.”
“How will you sneak back into your room if you have nine guards on you?” She strode to where he was by her door and pulled the ring off her thumb. “Please, take this with you, Yat-sen. You can find another way to get it back to me.”
“No, keep it.” He smiled at her and it was the first genuine smile she had seen from him; he usually looked so gloomy and hesitant that seeing him look at her like that—with hope—filled her with a sense of sadness. She didn’t want to disappoint him. “I can find my way back. Trust me.”
And like that, he left.
6
Biyu poredover the scroll Yat-sen had given her, concentrating on each spell he had written out for her in plain terms. There were three spells. The first was an invisibility spell, but it was incredibly difficult to keep the glamour up, so she could only use it for ten seconds maximum. The second was a spell that made her footsteps eerily quiet but required too much concentration in conjunction with any other spell. The third was a basic attack spell, in case of an emergency if she had to surmise, but she didn’t pay attention to it much since she already knew how to use her flames to attack.
For one whole week, she practiced by herself in her room. The first time she had used the spell, she had nearly fainted with anxiety, certain that the mages would bust into her room and drag her away to the towers, but no such thing happened. Eventually, she became accustomed to practicing it, even though it made her palms sweaty and her stomach clench painfully, her gaze never straying from her bedchamber’s door.
Each night, she wondered if she should sneak out to the library, and every time she backed out, telling herself that she wasn’t ready yet. She was too frightened to leave, too cowardly to even attempt to sneak past her guards.
But by the eighth night, she knew she had to do it. If she couldn’t do it now, then she would never be able to muster up the strength to follow the plan. This was only the first step, she told herself. There was a long, long road ahead of them.
Biyu tentatively touched the door handle. She already had an excuse in mind if the guards noticed her and asked what she was doing.Oh, sorry about that! I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you seen Jade? I thought she might have escaped at some point. I don’t know where she is.
She repeated the lines over and over, sweat dribbling down her spine and nausea rolling over her in thick waves; she could do this, she told herself.
Breathing out deeply, she slowly pulled the door open, her entire body tense and ready to slam it shut with an apology. But to her surprise, a single guard was posted, and he was standing there with his back against the wall and his head slumped forward. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm and Biyu could only stare in shock. He was fast asleep.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she quietly shut the door behind her and shuffled down the hall, keeping her gaze locked on the guard. What if he was just pretending to doze off so he could catch her in the act of escaping? But the more she stepped away from him, the more she realized that he was out of it. She spun around and hurried down the corridor, her heart beating wildly in her throat, and her hands trembling as she rounded the corner.
She hadn’t even used her magic.
Were her guards really this incompetent? She couldn’t believe it, and it made her realize how true Yat-sen’s assessment was. Her guards were useless at their jobs, or maybe they were just complacent. They must have known the spineless princess wouldn’t dare step out of line. Years of watching her and doing nothing had probably made them bored, had made them realizethey could sleep on the job and nobody would reprimand them, because they wouldn’t be missing anything.
Biyu should have felta little bitannoyed at that, but it worked in her favor and she couldn’t keep the grin off her face, nor the skip out of her step as she walked the familiar bends of the hallways. She used to love the intricate paths throughout the palace, even if she was only allowed in certain wings. She hadn’t thought she would walk these halls like this ever again; without guards flanking her, without people peering down at her with thinly veiled mistrust and disdain. She felt like she could breathe again, for the first time in five years.
