Page 15 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Eleven

In fact, during the Yong Dynasty, the wielding of spirit power was closely linked with virtues such as justice and ambition.

However, following the Warring States Period and the subsequent ban on black magic, public perception shifted, associating those who wielded spirit power with negative traits such as vengeance and greed.

As for whether the qualities that attract spirits are inherently good or evil, this author cannot answer.

Emotions, much like the sun and the moon, possess both a bright and a dark side—it all depends on the angle from which they are viewed.

I should have run, I thought hopelessly, struggling not to hyperventilate. I should have fought with everything I had, rather than accepting my fate so foolishly, like a sheep led to slaughter.

I was angry, so unbearably angry. Angry at Princess Yifeng for twisting the narrative, for once again casting me as a traitor and a liar. Angry at Sky for abandoning me, for taking my credit and then letting me fall.

Above all, I was angry with myself—for letting one stupid mistake ruin me.

“Wh-what proof?” I wheezed. “Other than hearsay—”

“What proof do I have?” she repeated, laughing. “Oh, Lady Hai, I already have the approval of the prince, and three independent witnesses who have each verified the evidence in question. Now,” she directed the executioner. “Do not tarry.”

The swordsman raised his blade high, its surface catching the moonlight and scattering shards of brilliance across the pavilion. But I refused to avert my gaze from the sword.

“Pleasant night for a stroll, is it not?” Though the words were casual, the voice rang out across the lake, forceful and resounding.

“Prince Winter,” said Princess Yifeng, trying to hide her alarm. “And—Keyan!” Her dismay grew. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask the same of you, princess,” said Winter. He inclined his head at me, as if I were not bound and kneeling on the floor. “Lady Hai.”

The crown prince was frowning, his frown so deep the lines looked engraved into his face. “Did you know about this?” he asked Winter.

Winter shrugged in a gesture that indicated neither yes nor no. “Now that the crown prince is here, his jurisdiction precedes that of Prince Yuchen, who I trust is the one who signed the execution order?”

Yifeng gave a curt nod before appealing to her husband. “Your Highness,” she said. “Lady Hai has committed an act of the highest treason. I have long harbored doubts about her loyalty to the Imperial Commander, particularly after her defection to Ximing during the war—”

“My lady,” said Winter, “do not forget that I too was in Ximing, and I have already testified that those rumors are false.”

“Fine, those are false, but this certainly isn’t!” she snapped, losing her composure. “I have the letter! Given the chance to collude with the enemy, she immediately agreed, seeking to enter an illicit alliance with the Ximing prince—”

“Yi Fan,” said Keyan, using her personal name, “drop it, please. She is too popular among the people. They believe she is responsible for ending the war.”

“But—”

“If they learn of her execution, they will riot.”

“Not if they know she committed treason against the throne! Think of the precedent this sets, if we allow her to live freely despite her multitude of crimes—”

“And what crimes are those?” asked Winter. “Her alleged all-powerful demon magic? Why hasn’t she used her demon magic to free herself, then? Her secret library of banned books? Why did these books never materialize? And this letter you speak of…Lady Hai, did you ever receive such a letter?”

Winter’s eye caught mine. I shook my head.

“It is nothing but a misunderstanding. I in fact asked to meet Lady Hai at midnight. That is what I wished to discuss with you, Brother. The reasons are improper, but not treasonous.”

“An affair?” Keyan asked, his eyes alighting from me to his brother. His expression changed as he beheld both of us in a new light. “Di, I thought better of you. To covet what belongs to your brother…”

“He lies!” Princess Yifeng screamed. “You—” She pointed an accusatory finger at Winter. “You—deviant—”

“That is no way to address a prince,” Keyan interrupted his wife coldly. “I’ve had enough of your antics. Go.”

“But—”

“I will speak with you in private,” he said, and by the tone of his voice, it was not going to be a pleasant conversation. Blanching, Princess Yifeng obeyed.

Keyan turned his disapproving gaze on me.

His lip curled with subtle repulsion before he looked away.

“Put her in a holding cell,” he ordered the guards.

To me: “You will sit in solitary confinement and reflect on your actions. Consider yourself fortunate that nothing more occurred, or your punishment would have been far, far worse.”

The crown prince had not mentioned how long my solitary confinement was to last for, but I expected the length to be no longer than a day. I was a noble lady, after all, too delicate to even be lashed.

And yet, the first day passed, and no one came. My appetite, which had shrunk in prison, now made my stomach ache with hunger. But most frightening of all—the water jug, which had been full when I arrived, was now empty, and no one had come to refill it.

Had I known how long my confinement would last for, I would not have finished it so carelessly.

I awoke to thirst, and more thirst. I began to pound on the door of my cell, wondering if I’d been forgotten. At first I cried out for help, but as I heard no footsteps, I quieted, conserving my voice.

By the end of the second day, my mouth had begun to burn with thirst. Hallucinations crowded the edges of my vision, until I wasn’t sure if I was awake or dreaming.

Always, the same vision—someone sapping qi from the land.

Huge swaths of it, stolen. The land would take years to heal.

And the people afflicted with madness, they would never recover.

“Despite breaking every rule imaginable, you still came out with everything . You had the love of the people, the love of a prince, the life every girl in Anlai can only dream of. And yet, even still you would throw it all away…”

Princess Yifeng was right. I had been terribly, terribly lucky. I had gotten everything and more; surely seventeen-year-old Meilin could never have dreamed of the life I had today.

Still I was not satisfied. Still I hungered for more.

I could come and go as I pleased within the palace grounds?

Now I sought to move freely across all of Tianjia.

I was known as a woman warrior who had aided the war effort?

Now I wished to be known as the woman warrior who had saved the kingdom itself.

I wanted not only the common people to recognize me, but also every noble who sneered in my face or gossiped about me behind my back.

I wanted to be known; I wanted to be respected; I wanted to be remembered .

The want was so fierce, it became like a living thing inside me.

Sometimes I wondered if it would overwhelm me, until I was made of nothing but want.

I knew I should fear the notion, and I did, but somehow, I also savored it.

After all, my desire had brought me this far—perhaps it would yet bring me further.

I lost track of time. I did not know if it was the third day or a hundred days later, though I was still alive, and that meant something, didn’t it? It made me laugh, a dry, soundless laugh, to think of the irony of my predicament: a spirit summoner of the water dragon, dying of thirst.

The door creaked open behind me, and I wondered if this was yet another hallucination. I opened one eye and saw a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing above me, his pale eyes like two moons in the sky.

He knelt and guided me into a sitting position, then brought a cup of water to my parched lips.

I drank greedily, with abandon, water dribbling down my chin.

He held me while I drank and drank, then eased me back even as I protested for more.

“That’s enough,” he said. “I’ll give you more in an hour. ”

Then he withdrew an iron key and undid my manacles, replacing them with the false irons Lily had procured. “Your friend gave them to me,” he said.

As lixia returned to my veins, the fog in my head cleared. I took in the man’s bright eyes, his tawny complexion, the faint scent of alcohol on his skin. Of course, he’d been drinking.

“It’s you,” I rasped.

“I heard you’ve been looking for me,” he said, his voice more wicked and toe-curling than I remembered. “Was the little prince too much of a bore?”

I gritted my teeth. “You stole something from me.”

“Your heart?” He raised a sardonic brow. “I’m not in the habit of returning those, unfortunately.”

“A diary,” I snapped. “I thought even you wouldn’t go so low as to steal a keepsake from an unconscious invalid, but I guess I should’ve known better than to expect morals from you.”

“Unconscious?” he repeated, unfazed by my insults. “Well, that certainly explains things.”

“What are you talking about?” I bit out.

“You didn’t appear unconscious to me, though you weren’t quite…yourself.”

A hot bolt of fear ran through me. There had been instances during the war, brief moments of inexplicable insanity.

When I’d lost myself and tortured a fellow soldier in my squad, nearly killing him in the process.

When, certain a parasite lived within my mind, I’d bashed my head against a wall so hard my forehead split open.

But never had I lost the memory itself, as if it weren’t me living in my own head.

If I could not trust myself, who could I trust?

“You’re lying,” I said, because the alternative was too distressing to consider.

Lei shrugged, sitting back against the wall. “Perhaps,” he said, with the air of one who did not particularly care one way or another. “Though you may consider my motives, and find I have little reason to lie.”