Page 24 of Dynasty of the Wicked (The Wicked Princess #1)

24

Zhi Ruo’s magic danced between them, hissing in the cold air; it was electrifying, buzzing and charging the air with a heaviness that was becoming familiar to her. She still couldn’t control it, but it seemed to rear its head whenever she needed help, whenever she wanted to protect someone, or herself.

Lanying moaned on the ground, clutching her bleeding arm. Cuts and gashes ran along her face, arms, and neck, bathing her in hues of vermilion.

Chanming gritted his teeth together. “Take her to Physician Wu.”

“Yes, sir.” Two soldiers went over to her and helped her to her feet.

Before they hauled her away, she shot a glare at the dragon-child. “You shouldn’t even keep him around, Chanming,” she said between grimaces. “You should kill him. There’s no sense keeping a mindless beast around.”

The dragon shuddered in Zhi Ruo’s arms, whimpering. Her magic surged, and she realized in a split second that if Chanming tried anything, she would fight him, right here, right now. She didn’t know what instinct was flaring within her, but she wouldn’t let him hurt the child any more than he had already done.

“Zhi.” Feng Mian made his way through the crowd, his expression stricken when he came to stand beside Chanming. He raised a hand; he could probably feel the vengeance in her magic. “It’s all right.”

“Come with me. Both of you,” Chanming said in a tight voice, a forced smile straining his mouth. He waved his hand at the other soldiers. “Everyone, get back to your station. There’s nothing to see here.”

Zhi Ruo didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell in labored breaths, her arms like a vise around the child. He curled against her, no longer hissing and snapping. Her arms still stung from where Chanming had burned him, and thus, her. She couldn’t imagine having that done to her.

“Zhi? Let go of that beast.” Chanming’s politeness melted away and he glared at her, his black eyes appearing like an abyss. “Feng Mian, take your wife and bring her to me.”

Feng Mian pursed his mouth together. She didn’t know what displeased him more, the fact that Chanming was ordering him around, that she had interrupted the dragon’s punishment, or the fact that she was in the middle of it all.

“Zhi. You need to come with us. Let go of the dragon.”

“No, he’ll hurt him,” she said, not ripping her gaze away from Chanming.

“He won’t.” Feng Mian’s voice softened. “You have my word. When you return, you can tend to him.”

Chanming didn’t seem to like the sound of that, but he didn’t say anything. Zhi Ruo narrowed her eyes at him. “But he’s hurt.”

“Dragons heal fast.”

She peered down at the shivering child. Tears were stuck to his damp, blood-streaked cheeks, and the skin on his arms were no longer blistered and red. But still, she could feel the fear thrumming off his small body. She hugged him tightly, her eyes stinging with tears. He reminded her too much of herself, but no one had come to save her.

“He is terrified.”

“Yes, he is, and if you don’t leave him,” Chanming snapped, “then once he comes to his senses, he’ll bite you too. Release my dragon, now .”

She hesitated, looking between him and Feng Mian. Both of them were tense, their shoulders pulled taut and their expressions grim.

“Do you think you are the first to try to show him kindness?” Chanming finally said, dark eyes narrowing to slits as he appraised her. He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, the black leathers rippling against his form. “You are not the first, nor the last, whose hand he has bitten. Do not think a beast has a heart, Zhi.” He glanced at Feng Mian when he said the last part, and then turned his sharpened gaze back at her. “You will only be hurt in the end.”

“Zhi, please step away from him.” Shadows swirled on Feng Mian’s hand. “He will hurt you.”

“Stop, Feng Mian.” Horror seeped into her tone.

“Zhi. Step away.”

“No.”

Tension filled the space between them, and Zhi Ruo’s magic continued to twirl protectively around herself. Feng Mian’s mouth pursed together into a firm line, and Chanming looked ready to blast them with another attack, his hands twitching in annoyance.

Finally, Chanming bit out, “Come here, Zhi. We have to discuss your future. You have my word that I will not harm the dragon-child. After we’re done talking, you may even … spend time with it. Is that a good compromise?”

She licked her lips. It sounded reasonable, but a part of her didn’t trust Chanming to keep his promise.

“ Zhi .” It was Feng Mian, a pleading quality in his words.

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

He held his hand out to her. “Release him, now. Slowly, so you don’t startle him.”

Zhi Ruo didn’t want to leave him behind. Some sort of protective instinct had overtaken her senses, making her want to stay with him and soothe his healed wounds. Even if he wasn’t physically hurt anymore, she could tell the mental damage had taken a toll; how much longer would he stay within this war camp, hauled around like a prisoner, punished any time he lashed out?

It was unnatural, this connection she had with the child. Like she would die for him if it came down to it. She shivered at the cold realization; that was probably what prompted her to take Feng Mian’s hand and rise to her feet. The shock and confusion played on her face as she stared at the dragon-child, who curled up on the ground and sniveled softly.

There was a strange pull toward him. Her magic wanted to connect to him, to comfort him, and it disturbed her. Were these her true feelings, or was she … drawn to him through magic?

Zhi Ruo cast those thoughts away as Feng Mian lead her further away from the creature. It wasn’t until they were out of the dragon’s reach and marching through the snow toward one of the tents that Feng Mian’s shoulders eased. Tension thickened the air between the three of them.

Chanming entered the tent first, and Feng Mian hesitated at the entrance, his grip on her palm shifting. “Don’t anger him,” he murmured. “He is … unhappy.”

“I can see that.”

“You need to obey him while you’re here.” He winced as the words came out, probably realizing how terrible it sounded. She was a princess; she didn’t need to obey Chanming, but … her survival depended on it.

She gritted her teeth together. “He was torturing a child .”

“A dragon .”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Chanming’s annoyed voice rang from inside the tent. “Are you two coming inside or will you continue to argue out there?”

Feng Mian wavered a moment longer, before parting the flap with the back of his hand and holding it above his head for her to enter. She ducked beneath his arm, reassured by his warm presence as he shadowed her in, a gentle hand pressing on the small of her back.

Chanming paced the room with angry strides; his mask of civility fell away inside, and a look of pure rage and revulsion purpled his handsome face. Now that his soldiers weren’t watching, she could see his true colors. He pointed a trembling finger in her direction.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he snarled, hands curling and uncurling like he wanted to punch something. Like he wanted to punch her . “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have my authority questioned? By you, of all people? If you weren’t Feng Mian’s wife, I would have taught you a lesson in front of everyone .” The veins on his neck protruded and he stepped closer, breathing heavy. “Which family are you from? Only a noble would have the audacity to speak up to me like that. Who the fuck are you?”

Zhi Ruo flinched, inadvertently shrinking away from him and inching closer to Feng Mian. She couldn’t stare at him, not when he looked so much like Father. Bile rose up her throat and she swallowed down the bitter taste coating her mouth. Did he realize who she was?

Feng Mian placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer. “She didn’t mean to question your authority.” His words came out smoothly, almost unaffected by Chanming’s fury, but she could feel the small tremble in his fingers. “I apologize on her behalf, Chanming. She truly did not mean it.”

She noticed the way Chanming stared at Feng Mian’s hand on her. Something twisted on his face. Repulsion, she realized a second later.

“You didn’t tell me she had magic,” he spat at Feng Mian, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He glared at the both of them. “Well? Speak .”

“She—” Feng Mian started.

“Not you.” Chanming had his sharpened gaze pinned on her. Shadows collected in his eyes. Mistrust and anger danced over his familiar features. “I want to hear it from her.”

She stared down at her leather boots; Lanying had given them to her, and a pang of guilt shot through her chest at the thought of the woman. She had been covered in slick blood, and Zhi Ruo hadn’t even given her a second thought as she flung herself in front of the dragon. A part of her wondered if he was upset because he cared for Lanying.

Chanming tapped his foot on the ground. It sounded loud in the quiet. “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t speak.

“I … I’m sorry,” she croaked. Her palms dampened and she wiped them on her thighs. She couldn’t meet Chanming’s black eyes. The scars on her back began to tingle and she blinked back her stinging tears. “Please forgive me, F—” Father . Her tongue froze. “For my mistake,” she rushed, hoping he didn’t catch on to her slip-up.

Feng Mian stiffened beside her.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Zhi. Just … Zhi.”

“Who are you?” he repeated, harsher this time.

“A nobody.” Her shoulder trembled at the weight of his scrutiny.

“Look at me.”

Her lower lip trembled and she raised her gaze to meet his. She could tell right away that he didn’t believe her. There was a cruelty on his face that reminded her too much of her time in Father’s vicious court.

“A nobody wouldn’t be able to counter my magic like that,” he said slowly, letting his words sink in. He crossed his arms, fingers digging into his forearm. “A nobody wouldn’t have survived a Kadian war camp unscathed as you are. A nobody wouldn’t even be a prisoner in the first place. So let me ask you this again. Who. The. Hell. Are. You ?”

She tried to think of the lie she had given Lanying about why the Kadians had taken her, but she couldn’t remember the details; they were foggy. Panic blurred her thoughts.

“I’m nobody important,” Zhi Ruo breathed, praying that he would listen. “I don’t know why they took me.”

“She’s my wife.” Feng Mian slipped his hand into hers, weaving his fingers between hers. He squeezed, and she didn’t miss the way Chanming stared at their joined hands. “The Kadians realized I cared for her and used her for that. That’s it, Chanming.” There was a steely edge to his voice.

He didn’t look convinced, but he seemed to mull it over, watching them both with loathing she didn’t understand. Finally, he nodded his chin at their hands. “You’re really married to her?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

Feng Mian blinked at the question. “We … we forged a magicked bond to escape.”

“Yes, yes.” He waved his hand impatiently. “I understand that bit, but why stay married? What purpose does it pose, hm? You are in no need of a wife, or a family, or anything, Feng Mian. Your purpose is here .” He spread his hand out to the tent, nostrils flaring. “You are a lethal beast. You have no need for love .”

Feng Mian didn’t show a hint of emotion like she thought he would. She tried to hide her wince as those words struck something deep within her. A lethal beast . Was Chanming the one filling his head with notions that he was unlovable, that he was a monster, that he was bred for killing?

“Well?” Her half-brother threw his hands up in the air. A soft, disbelieving laugh bubbled on his full lips. “You both are silent as they come, aren’t you? Will you answer me, or not?”

“I am her husband.” Feng Mian raised his chin as he spoke, and although he couldn’t see Chanming, he leveled him with his silver eyes. “And she is my wife. I don’t need to explain my marriage to you, Chanming. My reasoning to remain with her, or my decisions regarding her, are my own choice.”

If looks could kill, she was sure they both would be dead right now. But Zhi Ruo’s heart fluttered unexpectedly and she glanced at her husband, chest constricting at his confidence, the determination glimmering on his face.

Chanming pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest shaking with soundless laughs. When he looked back at them, he looked more amused than frustrated, much to her surprise. “Lovely. Lovely.” He clapped, quickly at first, and then slower. His grin was feral. “Fucking lovely. You decide now, of all times , to lose your mind over a woman? To allow yourself to be distracted ?” He threw his head back and laughed brashly. “ Now , of all fucking times? When I have the fucking Emperor on my ass, and the Kadians knocking on my door? Now ?”

The muscles on Feng Mian’s jaw jumped. “Chanming?—”

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger, his laughs still trembling over his tall frame. “You’ve said enough. You would have never gone against me before, Feng Mian. But now.” He waved a hand at Zhi Ruo. “Now that you’re fucking a woman, you think you’re in love? You want to throw it all away? Everything that we have been working toward?”

“I’m not—” Feng Mian shifted on his feet. “I’m not throwing anything away.”

Zhi Ruo’s eyebrows came together and she stared at him. Hadn’t he chosen her last night? But then it hit her. He hadn’t chosen anything. He had simply admitted that he was madly in love with her. That was it. They hadn’t talked about leaving Chanming, or doing anything else.

Her stomach dropped and she fought to keep the shocked betrayal off her face. Chanming, however, caught onto that and laughed even harder, jamming a thumb in her direction.

“Are you sure you didn’t let her know that? Because she looks like she thought you’d toss it all away.”

Feng Mian pursed his mouth together. “Chanming, you’re being belligerent.”

“Am I? Am I really?” Suddenly, all the laughter disappeared and was replaced with deathly coldness. “You brought a mysterious woman into my camp, seeking my shelter and my generosity, and you won’t even tell me who she is? A woman who can counter my magic. A woman who disobeys my orders. And a woman who—” He stared at her hard, narrowing his eyes, gaze flicking over her figure with a dark scowl.“—who will be a distraction to all my men here.”

A cold, unexpected rush of emotions washed over Zhi Ruo, the main one being repulsion. He wasn’t looking at her like she was desirable, but just hearing those words out of his mouth—her half-brother—made her want to vomit. Not to mention that he thought she would distract his men. Did he think she was attractive? She had always lived in Ying Yue’s shadow, so she’d always thought of herself as ugly in comparison. But maybe here … She didn’t let those thoughts linger, because it didn’t matter. She didn’t care what these people thought of her appearance.

Feng Mian went still beside her, his grip on her hand becoming increasingly tense. “What?” he asked slowly.

“What?” Chanming lifted a brow. “I want her gone, Feng Mian.”

Feng Mian’s lip curled back into a scowl, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to lunge at Chanming, or snap at him. The cursed marks on his neck throbbed visibly, as if his magic wanted to escape into the room. “Are you telling me that your soldiers are staring at my woman? They have no reason to be distracted .” He spat the word out like it was poison. “She is not interested in any of them.”

Chanming ran a hand over his face. “I can see I’ve struck a nerve. Apologies.” He stared pointedly at her, and then back at his supposed friend. “But I want her gone. Arrange for it.”

“Where will I go?” Zhi Ruo asked, finding her strength. “You want to just kick me out like that?”

“This isn’t a safe place for you,” he said, though she got the idea that he didn’t really care about her safety. “We’re close to the border and there are Kadian forces all around us. It would be better if you were sent away to … oh, I don’t know …” He waved his hand, then snapped his finger. “Ah. The Zheng estates. Right, Feng Mian? Your father has so many estates. Send her to one of yours.”

Feng Mian frowned. “My father will not approve.”

“But he will keep her safe, yes? She is your wife.” Chanming appeared eager to cast her aside, and Zhi Ruo wasn’t sure what to feel about it. If she was sent to the Zheng estate, she would be safe, but General Zheng would instantly recognize her and send word to Father. She wasn’t sure which was a worse fate: staying here with Chanming or being under Father’s insufferable watch.

“I’d rather stay,” she began.

“No.” Feng Mian’s frown deepened and he swirled his thumb over her fingers, his grip loosening on her numb hand. “He’s right. It’s not safe here for you. It will … it will probably be best if you go to my father. I have a few estates I can send you to.”

“No.” It was her turn to be angry. She didn’t want to be sent away somewhere like a pawn. She wanted to be with him, whether they were fighting Kadians or in each other’s arms. She didn’t want to be sent to some estate, locked away, and impatiently wait for his return. And who knew how long that could take? Not to mention Chanming wouldn’t stop his pursuit to becoming the emperor until he either died, or achieved it.

Her head swam with this information, her stomach twisting into knots.

“Perfect. How about you write to your father and have him send his men to retrieve her?” Chanming clapped Feng Mian on the shoulder. “I’ll even allow her to stick around for another week or so. And I won’t even ask about her very questionable noble birth.” He glanced at her with a frown. “Maybe it’s for the best that I don’t know.”

“And the dragon?” Zhi Ruo asked.

“What about him?”

“Can I … take care of him?”

He didn’t seem to like the sound of that. “I don’t mind if you stray close to my pet, but don’t forget that he is mine . You have stolen one of my lethal, loyal beasts —” He jabbed an elbow at Feng Mian’s ribs, as if he was jesting, but there was a steely edge to his voice. “I won’t allow you to do the same with my dragon.”

She didn’t laugh. “He is a child?—”

“That’s enough.” He waved her to the exit of the tent. “I don’t wish to talk to you about morals or whatnot. Both of you, see yourselves out. Be grateful that I’m not punishing you for what you did out there.”

Feng Mian lowered his head. “Thank you.”

She wanted to reach over and slap Chanming, and then maybe Feng Mian too, but she instead jerkily bobbed her head in respect, and followed behind her husband as they left the tent. When the cool outside air hit her face, and they were several feet away from the tent, she turned sharply to Feng Mian.

“You didn’t tell me that you were planning on?—”

“Not now.” He jerked his head toward the line of tents. “Go inside. I need to talk to Chanming.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the fight left her body when she stared at his grim expression. She gritted her teeth together. They were in trouble, she could tell that much. Chanming didn’t believe their stupid tale about finding each other in the Kadian camp. And he certainly didn’t think she was an ordinary woman.

Feng Mian’s voice dropped to a whisper. It almost disappeared within the folds of conversations fluttering all around them. “Contrary to what he’s saying, he will find out about you. He will stop at nothing to find out who you are. If for nothing more than to satiate his curiosity. We need to get you out of here, and fast.”

“Feng Mian …”

A throbbing headache was creeping in the back of her mind.

“I will talk to you soon.” He feathered a kiss on top of her head, his eyes softening. “Wait for me in the tent. Let’s eat together.”

She could only nod her head—out of habit—before saying softly. “All right. I will wait for you.”