Page 57 of The Nightblood Prince

I stared at the ceiling as dusk turned to night.

The day’s events flashed in vivid succession. The burned buildings. The children who revered Yexue like he was a god. The city that radiated life.

Recovery in progress. Those children had a right to grow up innocent of the violence of war, as those parents had the right to watch their babies grow up without fearing that one day the emperor might force them to become soldiers.

However, one thing didn’t escape me: Yexue’s demons were nowhere to be seen. The only people I saw were the ones who showered him with admiration, love, and nothing else.

I had grown up around eunuchs and palace ladies who shuddered at the mention of the emperor; I knew fear like the back of my hand and would have recognized it in the civilians today.

With cries for Rong, they threw firebombs at children before setting themselves alight. That is the real reason we are still tangled in this gods-forsaken conflict. Not because of my greed, but because of Rong Siwang’s pride.

There was a desk in my room. Papers and brushes and a gorgeously chiseled inkstone.

I trickled water onto the stone and then slowly ground it into ink. With it, I penned a letter, detailing Yexue’s plan to travel to Xiangxi, the state of the city, and anything that I thought might be useful.

But as I wrote, one thought kept coming back: Would Siwang lie to me?

If there really was a peace treaty on the table, why would he not sign it? I didn’t want to believe Yexue, however he had no reason to lie. Not about this, at least.

I looked at the red string Yexue had tied around my wrist like a bracelet before we parted, a fragile shackle that matched his. Regardless of everything else, he had a soft spot for me. I could use this to my advantage and help Siwang from behind the enemy lines.

When I was done, I tied the letter with the headband I’d worn on the night I left, so that Siwang would know it was me.

Peace treaties were one way to end the war. The other was by slaying the dragon at its head.

Now all I had to do was find a way of getting this letter to Siwang, and hope I was not helping the wrong prince.

We left the city just after dawn. Yexue promised we would reach Xiangxi by sunset provided that we made only one stop on the way.

To my surprise, it wasn’t just us. By the time we got to the stables, five men in plain winter coats were saddled and waiting.

Most of them were burly men whose ages ranged from a few years to a decade older than us and looked like they’d happily kill me if they suspected I was coaxing secrets from their prince.

Seasoned warriors with swords and spears and bows and arrows strapped to their backs, covering both long-range and short-range forms of attack.

There was also a boy who couldn’t have been older than fifteen.

He held his head high like the rest of the guards.

I almost asked Yexue why there was a boy coming with us, then decided againstit.

If I was to gather information for Siwang, I had to parcel out my questions sparingly, save them for things that actually mattered.

None of the guards looked at me, so I doubted they would answer my question if I asked.

As we kicked our horses into motion, I had only one thing on my mind: if I wanted this letter to reach Siwang, this might be my only chance.

Inside the city, Yexue was a god who would not be disobeyed.

My every move was no doubt watched and reported back to him.

The open road, however, was another story.

There had to be people willing to help me, who were not influenced by Lan’s might.

But Yexue’s stallions were the best of the best and were clearly trained to run fast regardless of the wishes of their riders.

I held on tight, even when my thighs burned and my back felt like it was going to break from endless galloping through the barren terrain while cold air slashed at our faces.

I clung tight to my collar to keep the wind from escaping into my clothes.

That was how riders catch fevers high enough to kill.

At least the snow had mostly melted; in its place was hard, red-stained dirt that might never see flowers bloom again.

We passed strangers on the road, but only in brief flashes as we clung to these furious horses who would not slow for anything.

It was almost noon when we stopped in the middle of nowhere, at a small tea shop that was not much more than a hut strung from bamboo and a few low tables. It was the first functioning establishment we had come across, and I was surprised when an elderly lady came to greet us.

“We don’t see many visitors these days,” the old lady said when we dismounted from our horses.

“Five jasmine, one oolong, and…” Yexue turned to me, and it took me a minute to realize he was asking what kind of tea I wanted.

I laughed. While everyone else in these conquered lands starved and took whatever food or water they could get their hands on, Yexue was here making demands. “What kind of tea do you have?” I askedher.

“We have tea, green tea,” she replied in a quiet voice, her head bowed low.

Though we were dressed in plain civilian clothing, Yexue’s princely attitude was not so easily disguised; neither did he try to hide it.

The imposing build of his guards was also impossible to ignore.

It took money to keep men like these fed during times of calamity.

“We will take green tea,” I said.

“I do have some jasmine,” she said quickly. “My son loves jasmine, and no one has drunk any since he…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Enlisted or died was the only possible ending. From the sadness in her eyes, it didn’t matter which it was. If it was the former, I hoped he came home soon. If it was the latter, then…perhaps no one would ever drink her jasmine tea again.

I looked to Yexue, whose face was somber. “Green tea is fine, thank you,” he said, and placed a handful of gold coins on the table. “For your hospitality.”

The lady’s eyes went wide. “No, that is—”

“Take it.” I placed the coins in her hand. For everything Yexue had done to these borderlands, it was no more than she deserved.

She flashed me a gracious smile, one that reached wide and pinched the tears that misted her eyes.

I thought of my own mother. With what I assumed was this woman’s only son gone, life would not be easy. Mothers like her were too common in these lands.

I flinched when Yexue placed a hand on my back and gestured me toward one of the tables. “You must be tired.”

“Sorry,” I murmured, and turned to the elderly lady. “Is there a washroom?”

She nodded and pointed toward a small shed a little farther away.

I didn’t look back at Yexue for permission before I walked toward it.

We had been traveling all day and were in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn’t like I could outrun him even if I tried.

And I had no reason to, not when we currently shared the same goal: finding the stargazer and seeking more information on our prophecies.

By the time I returned, Yexue and his guards were seated, drinking tea and picking at the buns that they had brought themselves. The old lady was sitting by the fire again, warming her hands.

I walked quietly, ducked behind the tea stall to avoid being seen, and pressed the stash of gold hairpins and rings and necklaces that I had stolen from my room into her hands. Can you get a letter to the Rong camp? I mouthed.

The lady shrank back like a frightened animal.

She glanced at where Yexue was sitting, eyes wide and shifting as if panicking between choices.

To help me or to snitch on me. I waited with held breath, had already come to terms with the risk of seeking a stranger’s help. Thankfully, she nodded in the end.

I let go of the breath I was holding and gave her the letter. Addressed to just Siwang, and signed with just Fei. The way he had told me to do it when I left the capital a year ago.

It was better late than never.

“The fate of Rong depends on this. Get it there as fast as possible, and once we win this war, I promise you will be rewarded like the hero you are,” I whispered, then rose and returned to the table.

The old lady’s eyes watered even more at this.

She did not move from her place by the fire, for Yexue and his mendid not ask for another round of tea. We ate and we rested, and then we climbed back onto our horses. I let Yexue help me up into the saddle, letting my hand linger on his for a moment longer than was appropriate.

I would not waste my position here. When I first proposed it, Siwang had turned down the idea of me offering myself to Yexue to gather information from behind enemy lines. But I had to do something, and if this was the only way I could help, then I would sacrifice myself and my body for Rong.

We did not arrive in Xiangxi at sunset, but after midnight.

“It seems that even the great Lan Yexue is wrong sometimes,” I murmured when we stopped in front of a quiet inn close to the center of the city.

After nightfall and with lanterns few and far between, it was hard to tell how much damage Yexue had inflicted on the city when he captured it.

Most of the buildings seemed to be standing, so they had to have surrendered.

“Even geniuses make mistakes,” Yexue shot back, and came to help me dismount from my horse.

Again, I let him treat me like a damsel, purposely letting my weight press against his hard body as he settled me onto the ground. I stumbled when he let go, my legs almost giving out under me, and he caught his breath like a nervous kid. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lied. After an entire day of arduous riding, my thighs were numb to the point that I could barely feel them.

The ground beneath me seemed to shift, and I was suddenly nauseous.