Page 8 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Seven

When the woman warrior smiled, it was a smile so radiant it stole the strength from his knees. Thus her blade sang, severing his head in a single mighty stroke. The heavens trembled, the phoenix shrieked in fury, but the evil chancellor was no more.

By the time we returned to the Forbidden City, I was exhausted, the muscles in my face sore from smiling.

Meanwhile, Sky was practically vibrating with adrenaline and excitement.

As I stepped out of the palanquin, I came face-to-face with the Imperial Commander for the first time since my imprisonment.

He swung down from his stallion, no easy feat given the beast’s immense height.

His stature had not changed in the intervening months, but his face had.

His skin looked to have aged years, if not decades, with sagging wrinkles that had not been there the last time I’d seen him.

His hair was now seeded with silver and gray.

But what was most pronounced were his haunted eyes—they looked dead inside.

No wonder he had chosen to ride at the back. It was not a face that would inspire confidence.

Sky’s vitality and youth were particularly striking against his father’s deficit. “Your Majesty,” said Sky, bowing, and I hastily moved to follow.

“We depart at sundown,” said the Imperial Commander to his seventh son. Then he strode past us, without acknowledging my presence.

Winter, who stood next to Sky, folded his lips silently. He too had gone unacknowledged.

“Did you enjoy that?” asked Princess Yifeng, sidling up to me as Sky was approached by his personal guards. “It must feel nice to be so well thought of outside the palace walls. The contrast must feel stark, I imagine.”

She smiled, waiting for me to clarify. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Don’t worry.” She patted my arm. “Perhaps the commoners’ praise will help you forget what all the nobles think.

” She leaned in close and reached for my hand, and for a foolish moment I thought she was trying to hold it.

But instead she hooked her fingers around my red and gold engagement string, which hung loosely over my sleeve.

“It doesn’t matter what your besotted boy prince thinks he wants.

The Imperial Commander will never accept you as his daughter. ”

She twisted the string and snapped it in half. But before she could prance away, I seized her wrist. Hard enough to hurt.

“Perhaps it’s the Imperial Commander’s opinion that no longer holds any weight,” I murmured. “Power can be taken away just as easily as it’s given.”

My irreverence shocked even her. With a gasp she tore her wrist free and hurried after her departed husband.

I watched her go, smiling grimly. I understood that the white leilu plums had been a test. The princess had wished to assess my social intelligence, to know how much of a threat I’d be to her in the palace.

And she’d learned how little I knew of the myriad ways of court.

And yet, what was a court if not its people? And people, I reminded myself, I understood. People, I could read like a sailor reading the tides before a storm. My father and his volatile temper had taught me that much.

I picked up the remains of the string and pocketed them before Sky could see.

If I wanted to survive at court, I could afford no more careless blunders.

It had taken bravery to enlist in the army, to learn how to wield a sword, to train every night under the light of the stars.

It was not bravery I had in short supply. No, it was confidence.

I would need both to survive in a place such as this.

And I would survive. Not only for my sake, but for Sky’s, whose fate was now publicly bound to mine.

Princess Yifeng had been a cold reminder: Sky’s place was no more secure than a nestling hovering at the precipice of a tree.

He had gained much in the past year, but that only meant he now had farther to fall.

I would not allow him to fall. I would stand by his side, and together, we would secure the throne.

My motives were not entirely selfless. I had not forgotten Prince Yuchen’s insults, nor Princess Yifeng’s. And I certainly hadn’t forgotten the Imperial Commander’s betrayal.

My mother had long taught me there was no justice in this world. Yet I hadn’t expected fairness from the Anlai ruler—only reason. Even that proved too much to ask.

Now, I promised myself I would no longer let those in power dictate my fate. In taking the throne, I would rewrite my own narrative, forging a new legacy for myself.

From now on, I would make my own justice.

As Princess Ruihua passed through the courtyard, her gaze flicked toward mine. She hesitated, not knowing if we were on speaking terms after her husband’s insult.

“Your Highness,” I said, bowing. “How well you look today.”

Her smile was one of relief. “As do you,” she replied. She fiddled with the tie of her cloak, glancing around the courtyard before saying in a rush, “Please forgive my husband’s behavior the other day. His sense of humor can be…difficult to understand.”

That day, I had been intimidated by her carefully made-up face, the way she knew how to dress and hold her body like a honed blade. But today I saw that her appearance was nothing more than a veneer, and beneath all the silks and rouge we were all the same: insecure, doubting, and afraid.

“There is nothing to forgive,” I said, before smiling. “Though next time, I know not to underestimate the perils of chair legs.”

Princess Ruihua smiled back, before her daughter screamed her name from inside.

She apologized and took her leave, and now it was my turn to sigh in relief.

Only a year ago, I would’ve avoided her gaze and tried never to interact with her again.

But now I understood that relationships were like bodies of water, fluctuating with the seasons.

I felt the weight of someone’s gaze behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and found Winter watching me. In his eyes was a shrewd recognition—both of who I was and what I was trying to achieve.

I had become acquainted with the sixth and seventh princes during wartime, when Sky had been the protector of the two.

But Sky had once confided in me that back in court, their roles had been reversed.

Winter did not fight, and so in battle he became a liability.

But in peacetime, he was someone I wanted on my side.

A handsome man in uniform stopped by Winter’s side, whispering something in his ear. His hair was brown with a hint of red in the sunlight, and as Winter replied, the man smiled, revealing a dimple in one cheek. I vaguely remembered him from the war, but his name escaped me.

“Captain Tong,” said Sky, striding up to them. “Ready the horses.”

“Yes, sir,” said Captain Tong, whom I now remembered from First Platoon, back when he was still a lieutenant. He had been a reliable leader—reserved, but steady. He never drank or socialized with his men, preferring to keep his evenings to himself.

As Captain Tong turned to go, Winter caught his arm, saying something else. Although there was nothing indecent about the gesture, there was a certain quality in Winter’s expression, a softness there that I’d never seen before, that gave me pause.

Before I could eavesdrop, Sky bounded over. “Were you waiting for me? You shouldn’t have.” His eyes trailed over the gooseflesh lining my exposed skin. “You must be cold.”

“It’s your fault,” I said, wrinkling my nose at him. I missed my practical uniform from our army days. Despite the quality of the cloth, my fine robes were made for beauty rather than warmth. “If it weren’t for you, I’d never dress like this.”

“I find I can’t summon any regret,” said Sky, eyes twinkling, “when you look so beautiful.” He rubbed my arms to generate heat. “Here, I’ll warm you up.”

But I noticed the soldiers behind him, watching us impatiently. “You have to go, don’t you?” I guessed. “Is this goodbye, then?”

I’d said goodbye to Sky before, but always as the one with the mission, never the one left behind.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” said Sky, taking my cold hand and rubbing it between his warm ones. “I’ve asked Winter to keep an eye on you while I’m away.”

“Can I visit my family now?” I asked, careful to keep the pleading note from my voice.

“I’m sorry, Meilin.” He clenched his hands more firmly around mine. “You know how my father’s moods are right now. I wanted to ask, but…”

I didn’t want Sky to risk provoking the Imperial Commander on my behalf, not with things as precarious as they were. I squeezed his hand to show that I understood.

“Don’t go near any spirit gates, if you find them,” I warned.

I had seen firsthand what those gates could do to a man.

It did not matter how skilled you were with a sword or how fast your horse could carry you.

Against the seductive pull of lixia, all that mattered was the affinity of your qi.

“You don’t understand what the lure of spirit power is like.

No one does, until they meet it face-to-face. ”

He lifted his sleeve to show me a familiar iron armlet. It was the same one Lieutenant Fang had given him during the war. “These days, I never take it off.”

I bit my lip with worry. “I wish I could go with you.”

“When you’re better,” he assured me, before tweaking my nose, which must have turned red with cold. “Now go inside and get warm.”

With the Imperial Commander, the crown prince, and the seventh prince all departed from the capital, the Forbidden City seemed to take on a subdued, languorous air.

That night, I dreamed of wandering the city, the rivers, the forests beyond the palace.

In my dreams I called upon my lixia and wept with relief.

But in waking, I knew these visions to be nothing more than dreams.

I wiped tears from my face and called for my maidservants.

“Would you like breakfast, my lady?” asked Lotus.