Page 5 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Four

Thus, white became the color of death, for so lovely and pure was the maiden of white that she could not endure the mortal world.

To my horror, I looked down at her robes and saw, beneath the voluminous silks, a slight bulge to her stomach. My own dropped.

“I beg forgiveness, Your Highness, I did not realize—”

“Stupid girl,” she snapped. “Take those away.” She pressed a protective hand over her stomach, as if shielding her unborn child from the sight. Lotus fled with the offending fruit.

“I see now you know little of the ways of court,” Princess Ruihua said, still breathing hard. “Follow me.”

I bowed again and followed as she led me into an adjoining parlor, where a table was prepared with dinner. A pretty girl with skin like glass waited by the window.

“This is Lady Caihong,” Princess Ruihua said. “Consort to the Imperial Commander.”

I raised a brow. The girl looked to be in her mid-twenties, nearly half the age of Sky’s father.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” said Lady Caihong. “I’m so happy for you and Prince Sky. I still remember him as a little boy—he used to cry after losing at go.”

“Caihong grew up in the palace,” Ruihua explained. “She often played with the princes when she was little.”

Even stranger, then, that she’d ended up with their father. But I only nodded.

“How is your son?” Caihong asked, when we were seated.

“Energetic as always,” replied the princess. “I thought the second time would be easier. You know how Peony is, as calm as they come. But Baoxia is trying to run before he can walk!”

“Boys are different,” said Caihong, smiling. “How fortunate you are, to have a third child already on the way. Princess Yifeng was singing your praises earlier. She prays some of your good luck will rub off on her.”

Ruihua’s smile was wry. “Princess Yifeng makes her own luck. I have no doubt good fortune will soon follow her.” Her eyes dipped briefly to Caihong’s figure, which was as slim and flat as a folded fan. “Perhaps good fortune will soon follow you too.”

Caihong colored and looked away. “I have long since given up hope of bearing my own child. But the Imperial Commander is good to me, despite my deficiencies.”

Ruihua frowned. “But perhaps it is not your fault,” she posed. “Have you ever considered…”

“No,” Caihong said firmly, her tone final. “The fault is all mine.”

To avoid awkwardness, Princess Ruihua gestured for us to eat.

Tentatively, I selected a piece of roasted duck, coating its crispy skin in sweet plum sauce.

Adding green onions and sliced cucumbers, I wrapped the bite in a thin pancake, then stuffed it into my mouth.

The flavor was exquisite—perfectly balanced between savory and sweet.

“What an appetite!” Ruihua commented. “And yet such a lovely figure. How fortunate you are.”

I could not tell if this was a compliment or an insult. Bowing my head, I murmured my thanks.

Both ladies waited a beat, as if expecting something from me. I did not know what they could possibly expect, until they resumed conversation and moved on to other matters—only then did I understand that I might’ve complimented Ruihua in return.

My cheeks flushed even warmer. What am I doing here?

“And how is His Highness?” asked Caihong.

Princess Ruihua sighed. “Busy, as always. He’s been traveling along the western coast for over a fortnight, but is expected home tomorrow.”

So she did not know about the imperial summons, I thought. Her husband must already be home, if the Imperial Commander had called for all his sons.

“Peony asks for him every day now. He spoils her rotten, of course.”

Caihong smiled at this. “He does dote on his daughter, no?”

“If only he’d give me half the attention!

” Ruihua laughed, to show she was joking, but I caught the note of bitterness in her voice.

“The number of women he keeps…” Caihong made a hemming noise of sympathy as she continued, “But he loves the children, and for that I can’t complain.

Just wait”—she turned to me—“the seventh prince may be besotted with you now, but as soon as your body changes with childbearing—”

A knock on the door interrupted the princess. “Your Highness,” a harried manservant began, “the third prince has just—”

“Yuchen!” Ruihua cried out, rising as a tall man climbed across the threshold. I followed their lead, bowing, then watched with surprise as Prince Yuchen took hold of his wife in front of us and kissed her on the lips.

“My dear,” he said. “You look rather unwell. Have the children been tormenting you?”

“They said you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow!” she said, breathless from the kiss. “How good it is to see you.”

“I came to find you as soon as I was dismissed. Please forgive the intrusion,” he said to Caihong, bowing. He appeared oblivious to my presence, and I did not know how to introduce myself.

His eyes drifted to the table, and Ruihua laughed. “Please, sit,” she said. “You must be famished.”

Prince Yuchen gulped down a bowl of bone broth in response.

“Real food,” he groaned, biting into a crispy bamboo shoot. “I’ve been subsisting on dried pork floss for weeks.”

Ruihua clucked with concern. “Was the weather rough along the western coast?”

As he sat back, my eyes dropped to his shoes, momentarily exposed beneath the hem of his traveling robes.

He certainly had come straight from the saddle, for his shoes were caked with grime.

Curiously, the dirt was tinged indigo, reminding me of the lakeside town of Saiya, which we had passed on our journey back from Mount Fuxi after the war.

Saiya was a day’s ride away, yet entirely off course from the western coast.

“The weather was fine,” he said, “but the journey fruitless. No leads, still. Black magic is all over the countryside, yet nobody seems to know where the cursed practitioners have gone. Father is bent on eradicating them. He wants a party to set out as soon as tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ruihua screeched. “How inhumane—you only just got back!”

He said something to comfort her, which I did not hear. Black magic is all over the countryside. How was that possible? I had watched Chancellor Sima take his own life. I had watched him wither into ashes. He had been the last spirit summoner, apart from me.

But I recalled the poem my mother had taught me, long ago.

One buried.

One drowned.

One stolen.

But none so pitiful—

as one forgotten.

Four jade seals. Four directions, four seasons, and four Cardinal Spirits.

I carried the seal of Qinglong, the Azure Dragon.

Zhuque, the Vermillion Bird, had lost hers for now and was biding her time in the spirit realm.

But what of Baihu, the Ivory Tiger? What of Xuanwu, the Onyx Tortoise?

And what of Qinglong—who surely was not resting, just because I was?

His goal is far more ambitious than anyone could have known. It is long-drawn-out, and yet, what is time to an immortal?

How foolish I was to believe this could end so easily.

My vision was tunneling, like it always did before a panic attack.

I clawed helplessly at the iron bands on my wrists, knowing full well they could not come off.

Cold sweat coated my skin as my need for lixia surged within me.

The craving was ever present, yet especially unbearable when acknowledged.

“Meilin!” exclaimed Ruihua, rousing me from my thoughts. “What are you doing in the corner? Please sit.”

“Who is this?” Prince Yuchen asked, studying me as I took the open seat beside him.

His face, rather flat and round, reminded me of a polished copper coin.

Like his wife, he was gilded from head to toe, with long flowing robes embroidered with gold.

Most strikingly, he wore a diadem of perfectly symmetrical ruby beads across his forehead, the color so brilliant they reminded me of living flames. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“This is Lady Hai Meilin,” said Princess Ruihua. “A special friend of the seventh prince.”

“Ah,” said Yuchen, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “The notorious woman warrior. You’re certainly prettier than the rumors suggest.”

Behind him, Ruihua fought to keep her expression neutral.

“I didn’t know you wore dresses,” he continued, his eyes roving down my body. “For the songs always mention a pair of shapely legs.”

Ruihua coughed, while Caihong wore her disapproval openly.

“I thought you knew better than to trust the drunken bards,” chided Caihong. “Don’t they claim the Imperial Commander to be taller and stronger than a stallion?”

“And that you have the wit of a tiger?” said Ruihua, recovering.

“All true,” said the prince, chuckling. He savored a long sip of wine before his lascivious eyes slid back to me. Though he gave the appearance of propriety, something in his look made my skin crawl. “What a quiet one you are,” he remarked. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Three apprehensive gazes shifted in my direction. I felt the weight of their attention, their judgment, the way they assessed my every word and found me wanting.

What would Xiuying do? Perhaps she would make a joke, or flatter them, or simply smile. But I could not muster any clever words, and my face had forgotten how to contort itself into anything more than a grimace.

So I only shook my head.

I was used to being a disappointment. But it did not make the sting any less sharp.

Caihong covered up the moment graciously, insisting that Prince Yuchen take more soup. As more courses were served, I tried to eat, but my stomach churned at the reminder of my own incompetence. How could Sky possibly tie himself to me, when I was this inept and unworthy of his world?

I swallowed, wondering if I was going to be sick. I glanced at Lotus, signaling my intent to leave.

“Your Highness,” I started, but my hoarse voice barely rose above the hum of conversation.

“Your Highness,” I tried again, and this time my voice rang out too sharply. I did my best to carry on. “Thank you for the kind invitation, but I’m not feeling well and think it best if I retire early…”

Slowly, Prince Yuchen slid his chair back to survey me, so that he gave me no personal space. I ignored him, looking to the princess.

“Of course,” she said. “I do hope you’ll recover soon. I’d heard of your…condition…but of course, please, don’t let us keep you.”

I nodded, eager to leave. As I rose, I heard Caihong’s gasp of warning, but it came a moment too late. There was a great ripping sound as the delicate fabric of my dress came apart. I tried to step back only to realize my skirt was captured by the leg of Prince Yuchen’s chair.

He’d deliberately moved his chair to accomplish such a feat.

The long tear in my skirt now revealed my bare legs, up to my thighs. Prince Yuchen snorted with laughter as I yanked the hem of my dress from under his chair. I tugged hard enough that he nearly fell, which sobered him.

Clutching my skirt to minimize the tear, I gave them a short bow before rushing out of the room.

Tears stung my eyes—tears of rage. Did he not know that I had saved his life, and the lives of all the royals safely ensconced in the Forbidden City?

Did he not know that without me, Anlai never would have won the Three Kingdoms War?

But no one knew. The Imperial Commander had branded me a traitor and an anarchist. And now I was simply expected to accept his pardon as though he were a magnanimous and benevolent ruler.

My legacy had been stolen from me, just as it had been from my mother.

The thought of being remembered, at best, as a victim of the war, when I should have been celebrated as a hero—it was a knife to the gut.

Xiuying would have said it was enough that I knew what I had done.

But I was not selfless like her, and I wanted everyone to know it. To know me and to fear me.

“It was a cruel thing he did,” Lotus said, as soon as we were back in the safety of my quarters. “I’ve always hated him most out of all the princes. He treats the servants terribly. How Princess Ruihua stands him, I have not a clue.”

“She doesn’t have a choice, does she?” I snapped, shoving the ruined clothes off my body. “He doesn’t care for her wishes, or the wishes of any women in his life.”

I had always known men like him, men who would never respect me until I showed them why they had to.

How dearly I wished for my powers then, the ability to make his eyes widen and his lips stutter with fright.

If only I could threaten him as I’d once threatened Red, a soldier in my platoon, who had learned not to disrespect me after I had taught him a lesson.

I missed my black magic, my lixia. And yet it did not come without strings attached.

“ You’re even worse than your mother ,” Qinglong had said, the night of the ambush on Mount Fuxi. “ I should let you die a worse death than her. ”

Seconds later, he’d tried to drown me. He might have succeeded, if the prince of Ximing had not fastened iron around my wrist, dragging me back into the human realm.

I shivered at the memory. I had destroyed the phoenix’s seal instead of handing it over to Qinglong as he’d told me to, and now he was furious with me.

What were his ulterior motives? I did not know.

He had always hidden far more from me than I had succeeded in hiding from him. All along, he’d been using me.

Just as he’d used my mother. And when she’d stopped obeying him, he’d discarded her.

Uncle Zhou had given me her diary, I realized with a jolt. Where had it gone? Had Sky taken it after my seizure? Or worse, had the Imperial Commander found it?

“Lotus,” I said. “Have you seen a diary around here? It was in my old robes.”

Lotus frowned. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she said. “When you were brought to your new rooms, you came with no possessions of your own.”

I swallowed hard. So I was a prisoner, yet again.