“A princess?” The closest guard raked a hand through his hair. “Sure. You’re a princess, all right. Just not an important one anymore.”
All the blood drained from her face. “I’m still?—”
“We’re just waiting for the day His Majesty grows bored of keeping you hostage here, and then we can do whatever we want,” he continued with a shrug. His attention skated over toChao, who was fixing his red-and-black imperial guard clothes, the Drakkon symbol of a dragon stamped on the left side of his chest. A frown tugged at his mouth. “You should still be cautious with what you do with her, though.”
“The emperor is too busy with his new wife to give a shit about her,” Chao muttered, rubbing his slick hands on his thighs. “I would be too, if I had?—”
The third guard shot him a look. “Careful how you speak of Her Majesty.”
Biyu took a tentative step back as the three continued speaking crudely with one another. She didn’t normally encounter terrible, rude guards like this, but it happened from time to time. But never before had they been so brazen. What had changed? Was it because they thought Drakkon Muyang had gone soft since marrying Yin Daiyu? Did they think that made him more complacent to what happened behind closed doors in his palace? Or was it because the head mage, Feiyu, was no longer around?
She could still run, she realized. They weren’t paying attention to her. She could sprint down the hall and?—
And then what?
Keep running into more palace guards, who would toss her into the dungeons? Or, worse, throw her into one of the mage towers, where she would be tortured for days on end? The thought sent a jolt of unease down her spine to the withered dregs of her soul. Her shoulders dropped. She was alone here. If they chose to abuse her, who could she even turn to for help? She had no one here. Only enemies.
Biyu’s hands fisted together and she could feel her magic thrumming beneath the surface. It warmed her skin, and the desire to burn these three guards reared its ugly head.
She could burn them so badly that only ash would remain. She could feel the warm breath of death whispering against her skin, her magic begging to be released after years of dormancy.
But then she was reminded of the towers, again, and how if she was caught using magic, then the mages would alert the emperor and she would be tossed in there for who-knew how long. Her half-brother, Yat-sen, had made the mistake of using magic months ago to help the empress before her marriage to the emperor, and he had been locked away for months, enduring unbearable torture. He still could have been locked in there for all she knew.
Biyu hesitated. She could risk it. The mages might not be able to detect that she had used it. She could?—
“Princess Biyu?”
All three guards stopped talking abruptly. One of the older maidservants, Lin, emerged from the end of the corridor, her pale skirts swishing with every wavering step she took toward them. She glanced at the men and then back at Biyu.
“Heavens, child, what are you wearing out here? You look a mess!” the woman clucked her tongue and motioned her inside her bedchambers. She pushed past the guards, casting them a narrowed glare. “And what are you three men gawking at? Only one of you is the princess’s guard. Go on, now, leave, lest I tell His Majesty what you three were up to.” She made a throaty sound, while the three men exchanged glances.
“We weren’t doing anything,” the third guard said with a frown. “If anything, you should be thanking us for not allowing the princess to escape her room. If His Majesty finds out, she could be whipped, or worse.”
“Right, right.” The other bobbed his head.
Chao grinned slowly. He was staring at Biyu now, the hunger in his eyes intensifying. “Yes, we werehelpingher return to her room. She seems to have had a nightmare, which prompted herto run like devils were at her heels. We were simply escorting her back.”
Biyu’s hands curled together and she fought the urge to incinerate him on the spot. She exhaled through her nose, counting her thundering heartbeat. Her fear of the mage towers kept her rooted in place, her magic properly leashed. She wasn’t allowed to use any magic, not since Drakkon Muyang had taken the throne five years ago.
The maidservant raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question them further as she waved toward the bedroom door. “Come now, princess, we must get you ready.”
“Ready for what?” Biyu whispered, not trusting her voice to betray her emotions; she didn’t want to show her vulnerabilities to these men. It would only make her feel even smaller than she did now.
“His Majesty wishes for everyone in his court to be present for breakfast. He has an announcement to make.”
She flinched, an uneasiness burrowing deep in her knotted stomach. The last time there had been an announcement, it was actually a beheading. The man had apparently been a spy for the rebel cause, wishing to usurp the throne and give it back to its rightful heir—which was currently her half-brother, Yat-sen. The emperor had skinned the traitor alive and then sliced his head off. She could still remember the screams that had followed in the wake of the torture; the smell of iron that filled the air, the brutality of the man’s skin being flayed off, the blood that had drenched the floors … And how, afterward, the emperor forced everyone to eat breakfast as if nothing had happened. Bile filled her mouth and she swallowed down the bitter taste. She didn’t want to be present for another macabre scene like that.
They entered her bedchambers, and Lin slammed the doors shut. She wiped her hands together with a long sigh. She remained that way, her trembling hands pressed against thedoor, for a moment longer. And it took Biyu a moment to realize why—she, too, was afraid of those guards. Of those vicious men. She could read their intentions clear as day; any woman, likely, could read them.
Biyu approached the older woman and placed a hand on her hunkered shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, her lower lip quivering. She didn’t have the courage that the maidservant had; she hadn’t been able to push them away. She had frozen at the sight of danger. Shame curdled her stomach, souring the taste in her mouth. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she quickly averted her attention to the window overlooking the gardens. She wished, more than anything, to be out there.
Lin breathed out shakily and her leathery hand covered Biyu’s. She patted her twice, and then said, “Well, we have work to get to.”
The older woman eyed the shattered lantern, but said nothing as she went to the vanity couch that was shoved against the window sill, moved it toward the vanity, and then ushered Biyu to sit on it. She then got to work combing and unknotting her wavy hair. She hummed as Biyu’s scalp was pulled this way and that, as hairpins and gold accessories were woven into her hair. The entire time, every pore of Biyu’s body was poised and ready to run. Her flight or fight reaction hadn’t died off, not even when Lin placed a cool, gold-plated necklace against her throat, or when she painted a lotus between her eyebrows, or applied powdery makeup over her cheeks.
She couldn’t erase the image of Chao standing at the end of her bed with his hands … where they didn’t belong. He had been pleasuring himself toher.
Revulsion pulsed through every fiber of her being. Bile climbed up her throat and she had to swallow hard to keep from retching all over the lilac-colored skirts which Lin hadpainstakingly forced her into. All the layers of fabric, the belt, and the heavy material made Biyu sweat even more.
