Page 6 of Dynasty of the Wicked (The Wicked Princess #1)

6

Zhi Ruo rested her forehead against the space beneath the window sill. The cold, wintry air seeped through the cracks and chilled her down to her bones. She shuddered and brought the torn sections of her dress to cover herself better, her mind racing. There were far too many soldiers to go unnoticed, especially since it looked like they were in the center of the camp. It made sense, in theory, why the Kadians would make a camp around the dungeon area, to better ensure no one escaped, but she had hoped, naively, that she had been kidnapped by a small band of soldiers. Not … an entire army.

“What is it?” Feng Mian whispered, his face just inches away from hers. “What do you see out there?”

She searched his blood-splattered, bruised face, and then stared out the window again. A gust of wind blew flurries against the glass. “We’re completely surrounded. I don’t think we can sneak out without notice.”

“Why not? You’re practically half my size. I’m sure you can sneak around while I distract them all.”

If they weren’t in such a dire situation, she might have laughed at that. She wasn’t short or small or overly thin by normal standards—she was pretty average in those departments —but he seemed to dwarf everyone. She was sure her perfect sister Ying Yue would look even more dainty and womanly next to him.

The thought soured her stomach, and she quickly shook it away.

No distractions. Especially not bitter ones.

“I’m not that … minuscule,” she settled with. “They’ll notice right away.”

“Then maybe?—”

She grabbed his arm and hissed a response as a soldier began headed their way. Whether they wanted to or not, they had to move quickly or he would alert the others.

“We have the element of surprise,” Zhi Ruo said in a rush.

The soldier was a few meters away. His flop of reddish-brown hair was half covered by a metal helmet, his gaze downcast and his cheeks ruddy from cold.

“We have to move, now . Same plan as before.”

The soldier had just pushed open the door and stepped inside before his eyes widened at Zhi Ruo’s presence; he opened his mouth to say something, but Feng Mian lunged at him too fast. With a sick slash, his sword cut through the man’s neck. The soldier collapsed to the floor, his hands flying up to his slit throat. Bones poked out from the bloody gash.

Feng Mian burst through the door and Zhi Ruo shadowed him. They had taken only half a dozen steps before soldiers shouted in alarm, the collective sound of their swords being drawn ringing in the camp. Zhi Ruo’s heart thudded loudly, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pivoted toward the horses dozens of feet away. She barely registered the snow seeping into her thin slippers.

All around her, soldiers sprang into action. She could hear Feng Mian’s sword clang with the others, could see men collapse in her peripheral vision, and could taste the iron pervading the misty, snowy landscape.

Ten feet away.

Her thighs burned, her breath streaming out behind her. She ran past a soldier trying to yank his sword out of its scabbard. Her feet slapped the icy ground.

Five feet away.

She didn’t even know how to ride a horse. She had never been allowed on one. She wasn’t even sure if she was tall enough or strong enough to vault herself onto its back. But she had to try, she had to?—

Two soldiers jumped in front of her, blocking her way with their swords drawn. Their angry gazes were locked on her.

Zhi Ruo tried backing away to find another path, but more soldiers surrounded her. In seconds, a dozen soldiers had formed a circle around her. Her chest heaved up and down, her eyes skating from person to person. All of them had the tips of their silver swords aimed at her.

Feng Mian grunted in the distance. She whipped her head to the side and saw, with a sinking heart, that Feng Mian was on the ground, two soldiers pinning him into the snow. They had managed to wrangle the sword from his hand.

Zhi Ruo’s arms dropped to her side limply, the knife slipping out of her hand to plop into one of the many piles of slushy snow.

“Take her to the general,” one of the soldiers snapped. “And chain the other one up.”

When the soldier closest to her grabbed her arm, something snapped within her and she screamed and struggled, ripping her arm away from him. She didn’t want to be captured again, tossed in a dungeon cell, especially with her torn dress where everyone could ogle and jeer. She snatched the knife off the ground, but the others already swarmed her.

She kicked and shrieked as they dragged her away.

“Princess! Princess !”

She searched the crowds of people for Feng Mian. The soldiers were now kicking him as he tried shaking them off, his limbs connecting with nearby men. He was shouting something, and it took her a moment to realize what.

Don’t touch her .

Zhi Ruo was brought into a tent close to the center of the camp. Two soldiers flanked her, both gripping her tightly by the biceps. When they pushed through the flaps of the tent, they flung her to the floor like she was dirt. Her knees slammed to the frozen floor and she instantly pressed her numb fingers to her chest to keep herself dignified.

She could make out the patchwork of snow covering the tented roof; it sent splotchy shadows over the room, creating an even more ominous atmosphere. At one end of the tent was a thick mattress with fur blankets haphazardly tossed over it, and on the other side was a table with stacks of paper neatly covering the entire surface.

A man slowly rose to his feet. Brilliant blue eyes peered back at her. The first thing she noticed about the general was that he was tall—not as tall as Feng Mian, but still tall enough to garner attention. If he wasn’t wearing such a nasty smirk on his face, he might have even been handsome. His salt and peppered hair was cropped close to his head, and he wore his uniform fitted closely to his lean body. He was easily twice her age, and yet he moved smoothly and lithely, like someone much younger.

“Princess,” he said with a twist of his thin lips. “I was going to meet you later tonight, but I see you’ve made quite the entrance.” His gaze flicked down to her tattered dress and then at the other two soldiers. “Was that you out there? Causing all that commotion?”

“It was,” one of the soldiers said when she didn’t reply, and then explained the whole situation—how she and Feng Mian had tried to escape, and how they had found several dead soldiers in the dungeons and outside too.

The general’s face darkened, his lined mouth pursing together in clear displeasure. When they finished explaining the whole situation, he waved them away. “I understand. You may leave.”

Zhi Ruo hugged the dress closer to her body, hating the way the man leered down at her. Without Feng Mian’s sword and lethal presence, she felt stripped of more than just her clothes. The kind of vulnerability that made her want to shrink within herself. The man’s half-lidded stare bored into her, as if he was memorizing every sliver of exposed flesh.

It made her skin crawl.

“My name is General Aemilius Wyer,” the man said with a full smile that showed his yellowing teeth. “You may call me Wyer. And you are Princess Ying Yue, yes?”

A shock jolted down her spine. Whoever sold her to these Kadians must not have told them her true identity. She vaguely remembered one of the conversations between the assassins, how disappointed they were that they had captured her instead of her perfect sister. How Ying Yue was worth more than Zhi Ruo.

This one’s pretty enough. How will the Kadians know the difference ?

She shivered again, and Wyer’s smile grew, mistaking her fear for something else. “You must be terribly freezing in those thin clothes. Here.” He shrugged off the heavy navy-blue cloak resting on his shoulders, rounded his desk, and stopped a foot away from her.

Zhi Ruo stared at the cloak; it was thick, lined with sheepskin, and had a fur collar. It looked warm, and her chilled body yearned for the warmth it no doubt provided. She wanted to accept it, but something held her back—pride, or caution, she wasn’t sure.

“I do not wear the furs of peasants,” she spat with as much vitriol as she could muster, “much less those of my enemies.”

His smile became sharp. “Ah, so you speak the Kadian tongue? I was beginning to think you didn’t understand a word I was saying.”

“My father will have your head.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard much about you,” he continued, folding the cloak over the crook of his arm and staring down at her with cold, beady eyes. “The beautiful daughter of the empire. The apple of his eye. The one who could do no wrong.” His gaze flickered over the length of her body, where it lingered on her heavy breasts. “You are very, very different than what I imagined. I thought Huo women were slight in every way?”

She gritted her teeth together, hating that she was exposed in such a manner to him. “It would be better for you to release me than to feel the wrath of my father’s armies.”

“Your father has not sent word about you,” Wyer murmured. “Soon, he might. We shall see.”

“My father?—”

“Wear the cloak.” Wyer dumped it on her lap. “I would rather my bride not freeze to death.”

Her shoulders tensed as the words registered to her brain. Bride ?

She was a prisoner, not … a bride for him.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest at the confusion playing on her face. He seemed delighted by her expression as he knelt down until he was eye-level with her. “Yes, my bride . I wish to marry you and bear many great heirs for this empire. Of course, it would be an extension of Kadios. Isn’t it lovely? You will be the queen of these lands and I your king, and the Kadian emperor will overrule us all. As far as I’m aware, Huo princesses are not allowed to ascend to the throne, so isn’t this like a dream come true?”

She stared at him dumbly. What was he saying? There was no way he meant any of those words.

She wanted to throw her head back and laugh at how ridiculous it all sounded. He wanted to conquer the Huo empire and appoint himself as the monarch?

“Well, the Huo empire might have a concept of emperor and empress, while the Kadian kingdom follows a king and queen, but once we take over these lands, I suppose we will become a Kadian empire, then, yes? So it would be more appropriate, I suppose, to be known as the lord and lady of these lands, but I think king and queen is still appropriate,” he rambled, his hands moving up and down with an excited gleam in his wild eyes. He was dreaming it all up, she realized with disgust. His rise to power. His claim to her people. His claim on her .

“—there are several parts of the empire that I would love to change?—”

“Have you lost your mind?” Zhi Ruo’s body trembled with unrelenting rage. This man, this Kadian, thought he could own her? Thought he could take all of their lands? The idea filled her with so much pure abhorrence and fury that she wanted to rake her nails across his face. “You will never have my father’s empire.”

If she thought that would deter Wyer, she was wrong, because his grin remained tacked in place. If anything, a fire seemed to be lit within him. “We will see about that.”

“Why ravage our lands anyway? We have been nothing but peaceful—” she began.

“Save the moral talk,” he said with a wave. “We are both adults here, are we not? Let’s not pretend like land and resources don’t trump morals . If we go with what’s right or wrong, isn’t it safe to assume that we Kadians deserve it more? You people don’t even know how to properly use your lands.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. You contradict yourself?—”

“We are more deserving of what your empire has,” he said. “But even if we weren’t, the winner of this war does not need to have a good reason for winning, Princess Ying Yue. Winners are winners.”

It sounded like he was dumbing things down for her, speaking in a patronizing way as if she couldn’t understand the complexities of conquering lands. She clenched her fists together. “I will not marry you?—”

“You have no choice.” Another flash of a cruel grin. “Once we defeat your empire, I will take you, Princess Ying Yue.”

She sprang to her feet and slapped him. His head snapped to the side. Zhi Ruo breathed out deeply, her hand stinging.

“I will never become yours.”

He turned his face slowly, his eyes wide with shock, before narrowing down to slits.

All of a sudden, he tackled her onto her back. The air was knocked out of her as she crashed onto the ground with little resistance. One second she had been glaring at him, and the next he was on top of her, his thighs pressing on both sides of her hips and his hand clamping her wrists above her head.

Pain radiated over the chafed skin of her wrists and her battered body. He leaned his weight on top of her as she struggled against him.

Panic surged within her, making it harder to breathe.

“Let me go!” she screamed, trying to kick and swing at him, but he was far stronger than her. He kept her firmly in place. His hot breath blew over her face and her nose crinkled at the scent of rancid chicken and eggs.

Tears of fear burned the back of her eyes.

“You insolent fool,” he seethed, gripping her raw wrists so tightly that she cried in pain. “You don’t seem to know how to act like a woman. You are far too aggressive. No matter, I will more than gladly put you in your place, time and time again if you act out.” He inched his face closer to her; pure hatred and evil reflected off the sapphire blue in his eyes. “You are mine to do with as I please. The only reason I won’t fuck you right here is because we have class in Kadios. It’s considered unbecoming to deflower your bride before the wedding night.” A cruel grin stretched over his face and he clamped her hips tighter with his thighs, pressing down on her body so she could feel him. “But if you overstep yourself again, I won’t act like a gentleman.”

Zhi Ruo wanted to spit on his face, to scream at him to leave her alone, or to fight back. But she couldn’t move. She was paralyzed, his words sending nausea rolling over her stomach in thick waves. She could see on his face that he meant every word. No … it actually seemed like he wanted her to resist him and struggle. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Wyer yanked down the collar of her torn dress, his gaze roving over her breasts, but there wasn’t anything lustful about his hardened gaze. His lips curled into a frown. “Where is your mark?”

She didn’t say anything, her tongue too heavy.

He grasped the back of her head, weaving his hands in her hair, and jerked her close to him, his hot breath steaming over her face. “I’ll strip you naked here if you don’t say anything. I never did check to see if you were marked, and I’m only now realizing that I should have checked before feeding you and keeping you here.”

“My shoulder.” The words came out without her volition, the fear making her malleable.

He pulled down the dress and when he saw the moon and serpent tattoo on her something akin to relief washed over his face, quickly replaced by a smirk. Only members of the royal family were marked, with magic, with the MuRong family sigil—a serpent eating the moon.

“Now, Princess, will you continue to fight me or will you cooperate here?”

She couldn’t speak.

He gripped her face between his rough hands, his expression fading into anger. “Don’t forget that you are mine .”

When she didn’t fight back, he eased himself off her, threw the cloak over her chest, and barked orders for his soldiers, who had been stationed just outside his tent. When he turned back to her, his smile fell. An ominous chill entered the tent.

“This is just the beginning, Princess Ying Yue.” He leaned his hip against the edge of his desk, his arms crossing over his chest. It took everything in Zhi Ruo not to burst into tears. “I hope you understand that you are my war prize .”