Page 21 of Dynasty of the Wicked (The Wicked Princess #1)

21

Zhi Ruo awoke to the sound of someone shuffling inside her tent. Her eyes instantly flew open, her mind racing as she thought about Chanming wrapping his fingers around her throat and choking her. He must have known who she was. He must have been here to finish the job.

She jerked upright in bed, squinting into the dark, only to find Feng Mian shrugging off a cloak in the corner. He was dressed differently than before; she could tell that much even in the dim lighting. Gone were his filthy, bloodied clothes and in their place was a clean uniform, armor, and a cloak made from some sort of animal. He hissed in pain as he eased the armor off his injured shoulder, the metal clanking onto the ground.

He didn’t seem to notice her immediately, though he must have known she was right there. He had to. He could sense her, but maybe he didn’t realize she was awake. She felt awkward while watching him, a surge of sadness and anger overcoming her. She didn’t know if she wanted to go over and help him, or if she wanted to shake him and scream.

Even in the dead of night, she could make out the swirls of the curse along his neck and hands. The coldness swept over her suddenly and she shivered, pulling the covers up her body further. The hot coals had cooled off, and the air had grown dry and frigid. There was only one bed, and she was currently in it. Was he planning on sleeping next to her?

“Are you going to keep staring?” His voice sounded loud in the quiet and she flinched.

A scowl was already forming. “Why would you think I’m staring? You’re blind.”

“I don’t need to see to know you’re glaring at me.”

He sounded too casual and unlike the apologetic version she had hoped she would witness. He was supposed to beg for her forgiveness, make her feel like she had been wrong to assume he was terrible, and he was supposed to be petrified at the thought of losing her. But maybe it was na?ve of her to secretly hope for that. Maybe it was best for her to stew in rage and hostility. To let it override her sadness at the whole situation.

Zhi Ruo tried to make her voice sound acrimonious, but it came out wobbly nonetheless. “What are you even doing here?”

He kneeled and began untying his boots. “Because,” he said, voice tight, “this is my tent.”

“ Your tent?” She clenched the blanket tighter. “Why do you have a tent?”

He kicked off his boots and trudged over to her. “Because, Prin—” He sighed, paused, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zhi. Your name is Zhi . Couldn’t you have chosen something less conspicuous?”

“You have no right to say that to me,” she snapped. “Not after you threw all of this on me.”

He seemed to ignore that and continued, waving his hand at the tented ceiling and walls. “This tent is mine because, even though I’m a disappointment to my father, I still am the heir of the Zheng family, and I am fairly high-ranked within Chanming’s army.”

Technically, she should have been the highest ranking official here, but she didn’t say it. He must have been thinking it, though, because he lowered himself near the bed, his fingers skimming over the blankets. “You might be a royal,” he said, low and rough so only she could hear. “But here, you are simply my wife.”

He made way to pull the covers back, but she resisted and held them tighter to her body. “You’re not sleeping here.”

“This is my?—”

“I’m your wife,” she bit out bitterly. “I say that you will not sleep with me.”

“You … What do you wish for? For me to freeze out there?” He waved to the entrance of the tent. “What is wrong with me sharing your bed?”

“Are you serious?” Zhi Ruo breathed out shakily, her fingers clenching the hem of the fur blanket so tightly that she was sure she’d rip off tufts of it. “After what you did, you still want me to be okay with you?”

Feng Mian went still. Uncertainty flashed over his face. Maybe he was used to his mother and father being okay with each other even though one had hired an assassin to murder their child. Maybe he was used to them copulating even though there was growing animosity between them. Maybe he thought it was normal for the wife to abhor her husband’s terrible decisions and disloyalty. And maybe she was no wiser, never having seen any other type of relationship other than toxicity. But she knew she didn’t want him near her while she was this hurt and betrayed.

“Stay away from me.” She hated how small her voice sounded, how close to breaking she was. Tears welled in her eyes.

“ Zhi Ruo .” Barely a whisper. There was a softness in his tone that hadn’t been there earlier. The subtle inflection made her chest squeeze.

“You betrayed me. You were always with the man who wanted me and my family dead. You … you knew he was out there trying to kill me.”

He grimaced. “Chanming isn’t trying to kill you. You’re not that …”

“Not that what? Not that important ?” she hissed. “Then why are you scared to tell him who I am? You know what he’ll do to me.”

Feng Mian clamped his mouth shut.

“You knew he wanted to kill my father?—”

“And is that so bad?” He shifted his position until he was on his knees, his hands pressed on his kneecaps, and his long, white hair streaming over his shoulders like bright moonlight. His words came out quiet, yet feral. “Is it so fucking bad to kill him? He’s a terrible leader, and an even worse father. You suffered under him for so many years. Why protect him? Why care for him when he has never done the same to you?”

Zhi Ruo couldn’t explain why she still cared for her father, why she didn’t want to see him be murdered by Chanming, and why she was so opposed to her family dying off. She wished things were simpler. “He is my father,” she finally said, struggling to find words to fill in the blanks. A cruel man with a vicious court who would rather see me dead, but my father nonetheless . “He … he is all I have.”

“ Seriously ?” He shook his head in disbelief. “He left you to die in the Kadian dungeons, Zhi Ruo. While you were being stuffed into cages and abused, he was celebrating an upcoming wedding for your sister. He didn’t even try to send any forces to save you. And you … you still care for him?” He said it like it disgusted him, and maybe she should have been repulsed too, but she only felt embarrassed.

“I … I don’t have many options, Feng Mian, but I do know that I do not want Chanming on the throne. My life will be over.” She bunched her pale, numbing fingers together. Her shoulder throbbed at the motion. “I’m not like you. I can’t betray my family and help create a new dynasty. If Chanming succeeds, what will happen to me? If he finds out about who I am, then what do you think he will do? I will always be a threat to his legitimacy. Any son borne by me will have a better claim to the throne than Chanming will ever have, and he knows it. You know it.”

His jaw locked in place, the muscles on his face tensing. He must have known the truth. The harsh reality that she didn’t belong in Chanming’s reign. He would likely never stop searching for her and Ying Yue—wherever she was.

“You are content dying in battle for the False Emperor, but what happens when he takes over? What will become of me? Will I be forced to become a pauper? I highly doubt I will have any claim to your lands or fortunes.”

“I will protect you.”

“Protect me how? Hm, Feng Mian? How will you do that?” She tried to keep the shrillness from her voice, as to not alert anyone outside, but it was hard to control herself. She wanted to scream at him. “Do you think he will care about you once he is emperor? Do you think he will care that your wife is his sister ? How will you protect me against him? How will you protect me if you’re dead from battle? You said it yourself; you have no reason to live other than to fight.”

Feng Mian’s pretty face twisted with a scowl. Something flashed in his gaze, but she couldn’t read it properly. If her words angered him, he didn’t say it.

“I do not exist in a world where the False Emperor reigns,” she said.

Besides, why did it matter anyway? He cared for her enough to not wish for her immediate demise, seeing as how he hadn’t turned her in to Chanming, but he didn’t love her enough to fight for her. To give up on Chanming and his desire for the throne.

“If you had to choose between us, who would it be?” she whispered before she could change her mind, before the harsh reality could settle in.

Feng Mian’s shoulders grew taut. “Don’t play this game with me.”

“Why not? Is it because … because you choose him?” Her words came out warbled, despite her attempt to keep her tears at bay, to keep it level. “Because you don’t care about me?”

“That’s not true,” he said roughly, raking a hand through his hair. “Zhi Ruo, please. Just … just stop .”

“What’s not true? That you would choose him, or that you don’t care about me?”

“Both,” he gritted out.

“So you would choose me?” She didn’t let hope swell in her heart, because he was silent, and she expected him to be. She blinked back her stinging eyes, sucking in sharply. Of course she wouldn’t be his priority. She was never anyone’s priority. She was always on the bottom of everyone’s list or, if she was lucky, second to last.

He called out her name softly, but she wasn’t hearing any of it, her sobs growing loud and ugly. She hugged her knees to her chest, her shoulders wracking back and forth, her tears streaming down her cheeks and dotting her skirt.

All she had ever wanted was love, but even that was too much to ask for.

“ Zhi Ruo .” He touched her shoulder.

She slapped his hand away, raising her head to snarl, “Don’t touch me! I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Feng Mian grimaced. If he expected her to be lovey dovey, pathetic enough to forgive him and be happy so long as he was here—he was wrong, then. She wanted to love, but she wanted to be loved back. She wanted someone to love her more than anything else. She wanted … more .

He was her enemy.

And she hated that she was deeply in love with him.

To the point that it would destroy her, she was sure.

She felt ruined in that moment. Ruined, and pathetic, and so very unfortunate. She could see why Chanming had laughed at the idea of Feng Mian being married to her.

She didn’t know how long she wept like that, ugly and strangled, her heart cracking further and further, splintering until she was sure the shards were disintegrating to the point that no one could put it back together. It was only then that her tears dried up and she lost the energy to keep sobbing. She stared at one of the tent walls, her shoulders dropping. She felt numb to her core.

Feng Mian inched closer to her, as if he was nervous that she would strike him again, but she didn’t. He came to sit beside her, a tentative hand pressing onto the small of her back. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said.

“ Liar .” It came out hoarse.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Not now, not ever.” He stroked her hair gently, and she wished it was enough to make the pain go away, but it only continued to yawn and grow. “You have to believe me.”

Trust him? She would have laughed in his face if she wasn’t so tired. How could she trust him after knowing that they were enemies? That his leader had orchestrated her assassination? And that he still followed that leader despite that?

“Why do you follow Chanming?” She didn’t look at him, only continued to stare at a stain on in the cloth wall.

He hesitated. “He … He is my best friend. I have known him for more than half my life.”

“And he has been conspiring for the throne since then?”

“Yes. Your father never claimed him as his own, and that … ate away at him. Knowing that he was a prince, and yet never being able to take on that title. Never being able to give his mother more than a status of being …” He shrugged. “A loose woman.”

“A loose woman who eventually married a noble, and was able to gift him these lands by the border,” she said emotionlessly. That woman knew what she was doing. She wanted her son to climb the ranks. To take the throne. She had probably instilled it in him since he was a young child. Whispered to him that he was the emperor’s child and that he deserved the throne. It was the same with all the other women the emperor had slept with. Maybe even her own mother was like that, had she lived long enough to poison Zhi Ruo’s mind with notions of power.

She was suddenly exhausted and no longer in the mood to argue.

“I hate you.” The words came out so softly she almost thought she imagined it, but the way he stiffened told her that he had heard.

She loved him, but she hated him at the same time.

She hated what he did to her. How he made her feel. How much of her heart he had shattered.

She wished she could hurt him like he had hurt her, but she didn’t have that kind of power over him or his heart. The back of her eyes stung and a bitterness coated the inside of her mouth. He didn’t even love her.

He. Didn’t. Even. Love. Her .

It was tragic, really, to be in love with someone who didn’t love her back, who’d married her and slept with her and kissed her, but didn’t hold her in his heart. Whose heart belonged to no one. Who would rather continue his cause that would end her than side with her.

His hand on her back burned. She wanted to push him away, but she also wanted him to stay. She wanted him to tell her that she was wrong.

“Zhi Ruo.” He stroked her hair gently, tucking it behind her ears slowly, his fingers dragging over her skin. Over her damp cheeks. “I will never let anyone hurt you.”

She finally turned to him. His silver eyes looked sad, and his body was stiff, like he was scared to uncoil himself around her, like he didn’t want to be vulnerable. Or maybe he was just uncomfortable being there. Witnessing her heartbreak. She didn’t know, because she didn’t really know him.

“Please, you have to believe me.” He framed her face in his hands, thumbing her tears away. He sounded genuine, and it tugged at the broken remnants of her heart, digging sharply into her flesh. “You … you are all I ever wanted. Please believe me.”

She couldn’t.

“You’re the only one for me. Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want to come here because I knew you’d be in danger. I could have warped here the instant those restraints were off me. I could have taken us away, but I didn’t. I wanted to find a way to keep you safe first.” He tightened his hold on her face. Not tight enough to hurt her, but enough to make her stare up at him. “Zhi Ruo. You … you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted. Truly.”

Her lower lip trembled. Was it this easy to sway her emotions? She tried to steel herself to indifference, but hope kindled in her chest, sparking and thriving like he had told her something valuable, believable.

“If you want me to believe you, then you need to answer me.” Her eyebrows came together as the words slipped out. She needed to crush any false hope, longing, or any misunderstanding. “Do you love me, Feng Mian?”

He hesitated, a look of panic flickering over his pretty face. She could have pretended it was the dim lighting that was making her see that, but her heart knew better. She slowly breathed out, each exhale shuddering out of her body.

“Zhi Ruo …”

She laid down on the padded mattress and turned her back to him, yanking the blanket over her body. She willed herself to keep her tears away. She was too spent to cry anymore, but there was a void in her chest that kept deepening like an abyss. It was more numb than the arm the ghoul had attacked.

“Go to sleep, Feng Mian,” she said. “I’m too tired to hear your argument.”

“I’m not trying to argue with you.”

“It shouldn’t be a hard decision to make. You either love me or you don’t.” It came out harsher than she intended it to, but the pain was clear in her clipped voice. “I can see you’ve made your choice.”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he began to shift beside her, lying down. His body warmth was toxic; she wanted to lean into it. She wanted to go back to last night, when they were in each other’s arms. But she had been a na?ve fool. An oblivious, na?ve, lovestruck fool.