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The Prince of Lan grimaced. “I hate it when my clothes get dirty.”

Siwang laughed. “You are not immortal after all.”

Yexue’s lips rippled into a snarl. “I really didn’t want to do this in front of Fei.”

Just as Siwang raised his sword again, Yexue caught Siwang with inhuman speed and twisted his hand until Siwang fell to his knees, screaming. Yexue’s wound was already healed under his silk robe; the only shades of red that remained were the blood clinging to his clothes.

Then, the crack of bones.

Siwang’s hand bent at an unnatural angle.

I gasped.

Yexue seized the fallen sword and drove it deep into the folds of Siwang’s armor, straight into his rib cage.

“An eye for an eye, a killing blow for a killing blow,” Yexue whispered. “You are lucky that I am merciful. I will grant you a slower death than you intended for me.”

Siwang let out an inhuman groan; his breathing became short and shallow in an instant.

Yexue threw down the blade and took Siwang by the throat, teeth bared like a tiger ready to devour prey. “My blood is a very precious thing, you know. If you spill even a drop, you have to pay the price.”

“Stop!” I cried before Yexue could follow through with the threat by breaking either Siwang’s neck or his other hand. I grabbed the fallenblade and thrust it up to Yexue’s throat, close enough for the silver to press against his flesh, though not hard enough to draw blood.

On the other side of the blade, Yexue met my eyes. “You said he’s not your prince anymore, Fei.”

“Don’t you think you’ve killed enough people today?” I choked, looking at Luyao’s still body and the soldiers falling all around us as blades continued to clash. Red against blue, Rong against Lan, mortals against mortals. All divided by the idea of nations and borders and enemies and foes.

“Two lives will hardly matter on my tally,” Yexue said quietly, his voice so nonchalant it made me shiver.

“You told me we should not feel responsible for the crimes of others, but that doesn’t apply to men who are killing others underyourorders.”

Yexue’s lips twitched. But it wasn’t a smile. He tightened his grip around Siwang’s throat, and Siwang let out another croak of pain. “The more you beg for his life, the more I want him dead, Fei. What’s so great about him? A useless man like him does not deserve you begging like this. He wasn’t worthy of you a year ago, and he surely isn’t worthy now.”

“I am not begging.” I pressed the blade even harder against his throat. “I am negotiating. Let Siwang go; he will sign the treaty and end this war. Isn’t this what you want?”

“I’m…not…” Siwang choked.

I swung the sword till it was pointing at Siwang this time, though not close enough to touch. “Youare in no position to make demands,” I snapped.

Yexue’s lip fluttered at the edges, and his grip on Siwang loosened,just a little. “Too little, too late, empress-to-be. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want peace. I want hisblood.”

“Fei…,” Siwang choked, my name a broken sound from his lips that only made Yexue tighten his grip. Siwang’s face was already going red, his veins bulging.

“Yexue, you said that you want to be a good emperor.” I swung the sword back in Yexue’s direction until its tip bit where his jugular ticked.

The blade trembled in my hand as I looked up at Yexue’s dark eyes. The eyes of a predator. But that man who had laughed and made jokes with me in the carriage had to be in there, somewhere.

But what would happen if I inched forward, just a little, and drew blood? Siwang had told me that one of the only ways to kill a vampire was by ripping out their heart or severing their head from this body. What if I tried to do that now, cut Yexue’s head from his body…? Would it work? Would it be the end of this war, the end of Yexue? Or would Yexue’s patience run out before I could try? He was faster, and stronger. If he wanted me dead, it would be so easy.

“Your beloved prince burned Changchun and everyone inside to ashes without hesitation and without mercy,” Yexue said. “Why shouldn’t I do the same to avenge all the lives that were lost?”

“Because if you stoop to his level, then you will be as rotten as him. A good emperor doesn’t rule with rage and petty grievances.”

“Is that what you want, a man who rules with benevolence and understanding?” he asked, his eyes so soft when he looked at me, so fragile and breakable.

“Yes.”

With reluctance, Yexue loosened his grip and let Siwang fall to the ground, gasping for air, blood marring the robes under his armor.