Page 25 of Dynasty of the Wicked (The Wicked Princess #1)

25

The dragon-child, whose name she hadn’t decided on, ate exactly as was expected of a dragon. Zhi Ruo had handed him a basket of chicken carcasses, with blood still dripping through the slates in the bamboo, and he scarfed them down ravenously, his sharp teeth tearing through muscle, ligaments, and tendons easily. Blood dribbled down his mouth and he occasionally plucked out the feathers from between his teeth or spat the bones on the floor.

She sat a few feet away from him in barren tent. He was chained to the center pole that kept the ceiling upright. It had been four days since he had attacked Lanying, and Chanming was keeping him locked inside here as punishment. During that time, he hadn’t exactly warmed up to her, but he allowed her near enough that she could hand him his food. He never allowed her to touch him, though, and would hiss if she tried to place a hand on his head.

During the past few days, she made sure to steer clear from Chanming, her anxiety pulled taut at the prospect of him discovering her identity. When she was here with the dragon, though, she was able to distract herself from ominous thoughts. Like what Father would do once he found out about her using magic, or that she had married without his consent, or that she was with Li Chanming, the traitor. Her future was so murky, and even though she wasn’t a prisoner anymore, she still felt like she was.

The dragon-child spat out a cleaned wing bone onto the ground, where it joined the pile. He licked his claws, staring at her with red serpent-like eyes.

“You’re always so hungry,” she noted.

His tongue flicked over the blood spotting his forearms. He was still dressed in his thin, tattered, blood-stiffened clothes.

“I heard that there were others who were kind to you.” She tilted her head to the side so she could better see his face in the dimly lit room. He didn’t show a flash of emotion; he only watched her. “But that you bit their hands instead. Why are you allowing me to be near you, then?”

She waited for him to answer, but he didn’t. A sigh escaped her mouth. Maybe this was a stupid idea after all. It wasn’t like he actually understood her, and he likely didn’t know the language, either. She was wasting her time with all these questions, but she couldn’t help herself. She hoped he would talk back to her at some point, but that was likely wishful thinking.

“Drakkon,” she murmured.

The dragon-child lifted his head.

“So, you do respond to that.” A playful grin stretched her lips. “Do you understand me?”

He only stared.

She sighed again. “Maybe not.”

His sharp ears twitched and he stared at the entrance of the tent, a low growl reverberating from his throat. Zhi Ruo turned to find Feng Mian pulling back the flap to enter. A wintry blast followed in his wake, dusting the room in a thin blanket of frost.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He brushed off the snow clinging to his shoulders. His cheeks were red from the cold and she wondered how long he had wandered until he had found her.

“Sorry, I would have let you know where I was going, but you weren’t there this morning.” She rose up to her feet and dusted her hands on her thighs. Most mornings, Feng Mian was gone by the time she woke up.

“We had a meeting to discuss our next move.” He shifted on his feet, a few stray chicken bones cracking beneath his heavy boots. “We’ll be moving back to Chanming’s fortress tomorrow. We only staked out here this close to Kadian lands because Wyer was pushing back on us, but he seems to have backed off.”

“I mean, of course he backed off.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Wyer is dead. Didn’t the ghouls kill him?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

“What do you mean probably?”

“I don’t know. He has magic, so it’s possible he was able to escape. Either way, the Kadians in this region have retreated for now.”

“What does this mean for us?”

A moment of silence dragged between them and Zhi Ruo wasn’t sure what was worse: the long pause, or the fact that guilt flashed over his face. She balled her hands together. She was getting really tired of Feng Mian’s wishy-washy feelings toward their relationship.

As if on cue, the dragon child narrowed his eyes, his mouth peeling back to show his teeth as he hissed.

She nearly jumped, and Feng Mian stiffened, silver eyes narrowing in the dragon’s direction.

“It’s all right,” she murmured.

He hissed once more.

“Does he … understand what you’re saying?”

“I’m not sure.” She glanced over at the dragon, who was now staring up at her. “It’s not like we said much.”

Feng Mian frowned at him, a look of unease passing over his face. “I’m not comfortable with you spending so much time with him. He’s a dragon, Pri—” He sighed, as if he still wasn’t used to calling her Zhi—and she had to admit, she was more used to him calling her Princess than anything else. “He might hurt you, and unlike with Lanying, there won’t be anyone to help you. In fact, most people won’t even realize you’re being eaten alive.”

“I wouldn’t?—”

“Have you seen Lanying?” he asked sharply. “He bit her down to the bone.”

She flinched. Truthfully, she was too nervous to see the young woman, for fear that she would be furious at her for picking the dragon’s side over hers. She was used to people being angry at her, and this was no exception—except this time, she felt guilty.

“It’s already hard enough that I can barely find you here,” he began, his scowl darkening. “I’d feel more at ease if you weren’t so close to him.”

“He won’t hurt me.” Zhi Ruo wasn’t sure what made her think that—maybe naivety—but she truly didn’t think he would hurt her unprovoked. He hadn’t hurt her when he’d attacked Lanying, and he hadn’t hurt her these past few days either.

“He’s a dragon. Dragons are intelligent beings, yes, but they are also easily bored, and they enjoy killing when that happens.”

She turned toward the dragon-child. “Is that true? Do you enjoy killing when you’re bored?”

He blinked.

“He is not innocent,” Feng Mian started.

“He is a child .”

“A child who almost ripped Lanying’s arm off.”

“ Feng Mian .” She exhaled loudly, her breath steaming in front of her in thin, white wisps. She wasn’t in the mood to argue, especially when it came to the dragon. She enjoyed his curious company. It was probably because she felt safer with him than Chanming’s men, who she feared would find her secret if she remained around them.

She stuck her arm out in front of him. “Will it ease your worries if you mark me with your magic like you did with the tent?”

“I …” His eyebrows came together and she could tell he hadn’t expected that. “I don’t think you realize how invasive that can be.”

“Why?”

“I will know where you are … anywhere. If you’re a hundred miles up north, I can find you. If you’re in your bathing chambers, I’ll know you’re there. If you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night?—”

“I understand what you mean.” A soft laugh bubbled at the thought of him thinking she would find that invasive. She had lived under Father’s thumb her entire life, having the eyes of his court on her at every waking moment. She was used to it. “I am sure you won’t abuse that power. And besides, isn’t it easier for you to know my whereabouts? You can’t see, so … this would make it easier, don’t you think?”

“I … am not sure you would want to be subjected to that.”

“Is it permanent? Can you remove it if I decide I don’t like it?”

“Yes. It’s my magic, so I can remove it whenever I wish for it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He looked lost for words. “Do you trust me that much? I could very well be a devil and take advantage of knowing your every move.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” she said with a short laugh.

She noticed the dragon staring at the both of them with an inquisitive expression. When he met her gaze, he took one of the chicken bones off the floor and began nibbling on it. His sharp teeth shattered the bone but he kept chewing. It caught her by surprise for a moment—that he was watching them so intently, and that he had shattered bones so easily—but her attention was whisked away when Feng Mian grasped her wrist lightly.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“I am.” She curled her fingers over his wrist and brought his knuckles to her lips, brushing a chaste kiss against his skin. “I have no reason to hide from you.”

A ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “You are too good for me, Princess.”

“Not so loud—” she began, eyes widening.

He cupped her face with both his hands. “No one is close by.”

“But still?—”

He kissed her softly, slowly, and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. When he pulled back, her face was flushed while he grinned at her. He slowly dragged his fingers over her face, touching her nose, her lips, her eyebrows—every inch of her smiling expression.

“I don’t ever want to forget your face.” He peppered her with kisses—against her mouth, her closed eyes, her jaw, and forehead. He paused when he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. “I don’t want to be separated from you.”

A flush spread over her cheeks. “I don’t either.”

He brought his mouth to kiss hers once more, but he hesitated when the sound of crunching bones filled the small tent. “The dragon is watching, isn’t he?”

“I—I think—” She was about to say no , but when she glanced at him, he had his head canted to the side, gnashing the sharp ends of the bones. Curiosity gleamed in his red eyes. “Yes. Yes he is.”

He groaned softly, resting his forehead against hers. “Then it is probably not appropriate for me to do any more.”

“Probably?” Zhi Ruo laughed. “You mean most certainly.”

“Most certainly,” he corrected.

“Wait—what were you planning?” She could already feel the heat spreading over her face.

Feng Mian wove his fingers into her hair and forced her face up toward him, a wicked grin on his face. “You know what.”

She smacked his chest with an uncharacteristic giggle. “Not with a child around.”

“Never.” He kissed her again, gentle and quick. He played with her hair absentmindedly, pulling it out of the low bun style she had forced it into that morning. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you to one of these empty storage tents?—”

She clamped his mouth shut with her hand, glancing over at the dragon. He sat there, staring at them both, picking at the broken pieces of bones sticking in between his razored teeth. She could feel Feng Mian’s grin against her fingers.

“Be careful not to talk so … inappropriately ,” Zhi Ruo said. “We don’t know how much he understands.”

“All right.” He took her hand and grazed a kiss along her knuckles. “He has never seemed to understand much, so I assumed …” He lifted his shoulders. “That he is unaware of the human world.”

She still didn’t like the way everyone treated him more like a pet than a child, and she supposed she understood to some degree—he did look like a foreign creature, with his scales, and horns, and sharp teeth and nails—but he was almost humanoid enough that she wanted to treat him like a normal child. She stared over at him, her shoulders dropping at his small face, and the heavy chains that were massive for his thin wrists.

Feng Mian placed a hand under her chin. “Princess,” he muttered so only she could hear. There was concern in his voice, and when she turned to him, his white eyebrows were knitted together. “Don’t get attached to him.”

“Why would you say that?” Her heart clenched. “He’s?—”

“I understand, but he belongs to Chanming.”

Anger flared within her. “He doesn’t belong to anyone. He is a dragon, Feng Mian. No one can chain a dragon, you know that.”

There were so many myths of people trying, and failing, to tame a dragon, to exploit the grand creatures into following their orders. All of those tales ended with fire and ash.

Feng Mian’s mouth pursed into a straight line. He tucked her hair behind her ears distractedly. “I understand that, I truly do. I, personally, was not interested in Chanming’s ridiculous plan to steal the dragon child, and I certainly played no role in killing its mother, but as the dragon is currently, he belongs to Chanming, and Chanming believes that to be true. Whether or not the child follows him when he’s older, that is a different story.”

“Why do you follow him? Why is he your best friend?” A harshness entered her tone and she wanted to step away from him, to escape from his tender touches. “He is nothing but cruel. He reminds me so much of … of …” Her throat closed up and she searched Feng Mian’s pained expression for something. “Of my father.”

His silver eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

“You know he is cruel,” she started again. “So why?”

“It is complicated.”

“No, it’s not. He is terrible, Feng Mian. Why do you stay?”

“He was there for me when no one was.” His shoulders dropped and she could tell that this conversation saddened him. She wondered what it must have felt like, to befriend someone and watch them slowly become a monster, and to continue to follow them. “I can’t abandon him that easily.”

“Even if he becomes as terrible as my father?”

Feng Mian closed his eyes.

“Answer me.”

“I …” He grimaced, like it was hard to speak. “I don’t know.”

“He claims to own a dragon, chains him up, and is brutal toward him. He threatens you. He doesn’t save you when you’re captured by the Kadians. He orchestrated the deaths of my family, and he would kill me in an instant if he could, and yet …” She stared at him, hoping to see a glimmer of reluctance, but all she found was sorrow. “And yet you stay by his side.”

“He was not always cruel.”

“But he has changed.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Feng Mian, he is no longer good . I don’t know if he was ever good—perhaps your judgement was clouded when you were younger, seeing how you wished for someone to stand by your side—but what I see now is a calculating, cruel royal . And yes, I have known royals my whole life, so I know what I’m talking about. He is just as vicious as my own brother—” Her voice warbled as the memory of Wanqing’s face flashed in her mind, with a dagger buried between his eyes. She had never liked him, had feared him her whole life, but he was still her brother. “If he does take the throne, then it won’t make a difference whether he sits on it, or my father, because they both are vicious and they both are the same.”

The muscles on Feng Mian’s jaw jumped. “What do you propose I do? Abandon him? Run off with you? I am too deep into this, Princess. I cannot just …” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out steadily. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s never too late to change sides.”

His eyes flashed. “You wish for me to change to your side? To your father?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice.

“If he is the same as your father, then it is better to remain on my terrible friend’s side, than your father, who is a stranger.”

“It’s not my father’s side—” Her voice came out small. “It is … my side.”

She had thought he would be more understanding, and maybe even sway to leave Chanming, but even though he wasn’t convinced that his friend was a good choice, he still seemed to be a better choice than anyone else. She could understand him to some extent, seeing how her father was just as brutal, maybe even more, but at least with her father, she had a place in the world, in the empire. Under Chanming’s rule … she had no place.

Feng Mian’s eyes softened, but she could see the uncertainty that swirled beneath the surface. It was all too complicated.

“Here.” Zhi Ruo held up her wrist and guided his hand to it. She changed the subject quickly. “How about you put that mark on me?”

His hesitation returned. “Are you?—”

“Am I sure? Yes, yes I am.” She tried to smile, and even though she knew he couldn’t see it, she hoped that he could hear it in her voice. “I wish for us to be together through it all. Regardless of …”

She didn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t say the words out loud.

“I understand.”

He placed his thumb over his wrist, and the thick, cursed veins running over his fingers, over his skin, pulsed and writhed. A small tendril lashed out from him and burrowed itself into her flesh. She gasped at the pinprick sensation. The darkness swirled beneath her skin before contracting and settling into a crescent moon shape.

Zhi Ruo pulled her hand away, her wide eyes set on the mark. She ran her finger over it, but it felt like skin, like a tattoo. And yet she could feel the coldness of it deep in her bones. A slow smile spread over her face.

“You can tell where I am now?”

“I can.”

“I’m sure this will be useful,” she said. “Like, if I am away at your father’s estate, you can tell that I am far away and safe.”

“Yes.” He touched her cheek. “It will bring me great ease to know that you are safe.”

“And if I die? Would you be able to tell?”

Feng Mian stiffened like she had slapped him. “I … I would be able to tell.”

“Don’t worry.” She placed her hand over his. “I don’t plan on dying. At least not easily.” She had meant for it to come out in a teasing manner, but it sounded strained and strangled, like she didn’t believe it herself. And even Feng Mian looked uncomfortable, pained, at the prospect.

The clanking of chains reminded her they weren’t alone. The dragon shifted into a different sitting position, the heavy chains dragging over the floor with the motion. He yawned, his mouth growing wide and showcasing his unnatural teeth.

“Drakkon,” she began. “You shouldn’t yawn so brazenly. It’s considered rude.”

“He’s a dragon. Our manners don’t matter to him.” The corner of Feng Mian’s mouth rose. “And Drakkon?”

“I’ve been thinking of names,” she admitted sheepishly. “I haven’t thought of anything better, so far.”

Feng Mian opened his mouth to speak, but his expression dropped and he tilted his head to the side. At the same time, the dragon’s ears twitched and he straightened, his eyes becoming alert.

“What—” Zhi Ruo began, but a wave of dense, wintry magic jolted her senses. A shiver ran down her spine, freezing her fingers and toes, and making her skin crawl. It only lasted a split second, but she could tell, even with her inexperience, that it didn’t belong to any of them. Not even Feng Mian’s cursed magic felt … this off . Like death itself.

Before she could ask what was happening, the ground began to tremble and a giant explosion sounded in the distance. She gasped, grabbing a hold of Feng Mian’s arm just as another blast sounded.

“Feng Mian?—”

“The Kadians.” His eyes widened. “They’re attacking.”