Page 38 of The Nightblood Prince

On the thirty-fifth day of the year, exactly one month since I’d arrived at camp, our monotonous schedule shattered like dropped porcelain.

Instead of waking up at dawn to run laps around camp, Caikun gave us permission to sleep an extra hour—on the condition that we were washed and uniformed and gathered in the courtyard at the seventh hour. Any tardiness would be punished by laps, barefoot in the freezing snow.

Caikun always followed through on his promises, so nobody dared to disobey.

We weren’t the only ones who gathered the courtyard, however.

The entire Third Army was here. Each battalion had its own separate schedule determined by our commanders, and we were almost never at the same place at the same time, except for dinners around the fire.

There wasn’t enough room in the courtyards and the archery field for all of us to train at the same time, so we went in alternate slots.

Are we going off to war? This was my first thought, because we were nowhere near ready. If they sent us to the front lines now it would be like sending lambs to the slaughter.

I absentmindedly touched the headband covering my phoenix’s mark, tempted to pull it a little lower for a glimpse of what might happen. Patience was a virtue I’d only half learned, given Fate’s blessings.

Thankfully, before curiosity fully dug its talons into me, the drums began to sound. Caikun said learning to decipher the tempo of drums was on our agenda: an ancient method of passing messages in the chaos of war.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, unease growing tight in my belly.

Then a young man stepped onto the platform at the center of the courtyard. Dark brows, pillowed lips that were almost offensively beautiful, and those familiar, sharp eyes, capable of turning at a pin drop’s notice. Kind one second, cruel the next.

My heart writhed. Despite the distress of the past year, Siwang looked well. Better, even. He was taller than I remembered, his shoulders wider and body sturdier. Gone was the lingering baby fat around his cheeks.

The prince standing before me was no longer a boy, but a man.

A soldier.

“Good morning,” he addressed the camp, hands behind his back and head tilted high.

There was a new gravitas to the way he spoke, something that hadn’t been there before. A deepening of the voice, like a quiet rumble of thunder that commanded attention with every uttered word.

Siwang sounded just like his father.

“For those of you who don’t know, I am Rong Siwang. The Crown Prince of Rong, and the commanding general of the Third Army.”

Shit. Out of all the armies he could be in charge of, why did—

From the elevated platform, Siwang’s eyes caught mine as if he’d heard my thoughts. Those pale eyes pierced all my armor with just one look, and I flinched back. I tried to lower my gaze, but not before Siwang’s lips twitched, ever so slightly.

Did he recognize me? Surely not. I had spent every waking second of the past moon under Caikun’s watch.

Despite the initial comment on the first day, there was no further indication that he knew I was a girl, let alone remembered I was Lifeng Fei.

And in the long months when I had traveled as a man, the only people who saw through my disguise had been other women.

“On behalf of the people of Rong, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for your service,” Siwang continued without missing a beat.

He can’t spot me in a crowd this easily, I told myself.

A year was long enough to heal a heart. Even if it wasn’t, the political stress of going from a conqueror to the conquered would surely take up all Siwang’s attention.

By now, I was likely a forgotten face gathering dust in some forgotten corner of his mind.

Still, I lowered my head and strategically positioned myself behind my comrades. My family’s life depended on my identity remaining a secret. I had to be discreet.

Typical Fei. I could hear my father now. Reckless and thoughtless. She never thinks of the consequences.

A side effect of growing up in the imperial palace as the prince’s bride. I rarely had to think far enough to consider the repercussions of my actions because Siwang was always there to protect me.

No more.

“Now, why don’t some of you come up and show me what you have learned?” Siwang rolled up his sleeves and descended from the platform. “You there, with the blue headband.” He pointed toward my direction, and everything stopped. “Come and demonstrate what my commanders have taught you.”

Instantly, a flock of eyes turned toward me.

Siwang’s lips tilted into a crooked smile.

It took all my courage not to make a run for it.

“Your Highness.” I bowed as Siwang made his way toward me, the crowd dispersing for him like oceans parting for a dragon.

Once Siwang and I stood face to face, fellow soldiers quickly gathered in a circle around us. Sly smiles and eager eyes: they were itching to see whether the crown prince would get his ass handed to him, or if I’d be the one to walk away from this fight bloodied and bruised.

A spectacle, either way. A break from our mundane drills.

My insides shriveled. Siwang had been trained by the best combat teachers the empire—hell, the continent— had to offer since birth. I was not his match. I knew this. Our teachers knew this. He knew this. Which means he doesn’t recognize me, right?

“How do you suppose I should demonstrate my lessons to you, Your Highness?” I continued to keep my head low, feigning innocence, shuffling back to put space between us while he circled me like a predator.

“By sparring, of course. And no need to refer to me by my title; we are all men here, brothers in arms. To Death, we are all souls trapped in mortal flesh. There’s no difference between prince and soldiers on the battlefield.

Everyone,” he called more loudly for the crowd to heed, “my name is Siwang, and you should all refer to me as such.”

The crowd exploded in hollers and cheers.

He was endearing himself to the men who would charge into battle and sell their lives for him.

However by doing so, he was also establishing bad military discipline.

Military ranks existed for a reason, and the chain of command had to be clear.

I looked around the camp at the senior officers to see their reactions.

They were all stone-faced. Except Caikun, who was frowning.

There was no reason a prince should lower himself like this.

Suddenly, I no longer feared whether Siwang recognized me. I feared the state of the front lines.

When Siwang returned his attention to me, his lips curled into a soft smile, one I remembered all too well.

I lowered my head farther, my hands formed tiny fists at my sides.

“ Your Highness …” I insisted on the title that I had never used with him, because if I called him Siwang, he would recognize my voice.

“I’m just a farm boy from a small village.

I’m unworthy of being your opponent. You should pick another.

Someone taller, stronger, more experienced.

Maybe another highborn who matches you in training. Or—”

Siwang stepped forward and touched my shoulder. I jumped back. He was so close. If I lifted my head now, he’d see my face clearly.

My startled reflex earned a restrained chuckle from the prince’s lips.

“There’s nothing unworthy about a farm boy.

Every single one of us eats rice here, right?

Who plants those seeds and reaps the grains?

We are all soldiers here to protect our home and loved ones.

When we put on our armor, we are equals.

We are brothers. I will treat every one of you as if you are my family, and I hope you’d all do the same for me. ”

Again, the crowd cheered.

Siwang failed to mention that the emperor had forced every single one of his half brothers into exile to protect Siwang’s claim to the throne. Being his brother didn’t confer the splendor one might have expected.

“Shall we?” Siwang shrugged off his heavy fur coat to reveal a gray cotton uniform, the same as mine.

Even in drabs, Siwang was beautiful. When he moved, the uniform hugged his perfectly defined chest and biceps. If I didn’t notice before how much taller and broader he’d grown, I did now.

Despite the same clothes, Siwang looked nothing like the men around us. His grace and aura were not attributes these lusterless uniforms could hide. Just as it was not something fanciful clothes could replicate, though the wealthy young men of Yong’An had tried.

Power and grace were things that had long settled deep in Siwang’s bones, morphed into the way he spoke, stood, and moved.

“Let us begin,” I murmured.

We each took three steps back. Siwang was the first to bow, and I quickly followed suit.

“May the best man win,” he said.

My heart beat a dangerous tempo in my ears. Siwang wouldn’t kill a new soldier just to establish dominance, right? Or was this the reason he’d chosen me, because I was small and an easy target?

Siwang lunged, led by his right foot.

This was not the first time we had sparred.

Even without Fate’s help, I knew he would aim for my abdomen, either get me on the ground or immobile.

So I took a wide step to the left at the last minute to avoid him.

If he lost his balance, it would be great, but Siwang was too good.

So he would likely re-collect, then lunge again.

If he did, then I would have to dodge again.

Could I hit the Crown Prince of Rong? What would happen if—

Siwang anticipated my wide step. Of course. He was Rong Siwang. Trained to perfection and expected to exceed all expectations. He swiftly shifted his weight from left to right and grabbed me by the arm, his shoulder lodging in my belly.

I was thrown onto my back before I knew it.

“Best out of three?” Siwang offered his hand to help me to my feet.

I didn’t take it.

I pushed myself up and took a step back.

“I’m as unremarkable as they come, Your Highness.

Ask anyone here and they will tell you so.

I am weak and I am lazy.” This earned a few snickers from the soldiers who didn’t know me.

“If you wish to see a better example of our commanders’ efforts to polish rough stones into marble, please, pick any of my peers.

They’ll show you just how capable they are. ”

“I volunteer.” Relief washed over me when Luyao stepped up. He shot me a pitiful look. “Little Li is just a boy. If you wish to fight a real opponent, fight me.”

Tears welled behind my eyes. If we survived this war, I would hunt all the boars for him and Zhangxi. Their child would be the roundest, fattest, chubbiest baby the village had ever seen. That child would never go hungry. I would make sure of it.

Siwang’s eyes darted between me and Luyao. “The two of you know each other?”

“We are from the same village.”

“The same village, huh?” Siwang’s voice suddenly went cold. Without waiting for my response, he grabbed my hand by force and hoisted me to my feet. The motion nearly sent my body crashing into his before I found my balance and stepped back. I tried to pull my hand from his.

His grip held tighter, just for a moment, before a smile broke out on those lips. He turned to Luyao. “Let’s fight.”

I scurried to the back of the crowd the moment Siwang let me go, and tried not to think about how the feel of his skin sent every nerve in my body exploding like fireworks.