Page 68 of The Nightblood Prince

P lease let us reach camp in time, I thought as the sun rose higher and higher like it had in my vision. Please let the vision be tomorrow, or tomorrow’s tomorrow. Let it be another day, be another dawn.

But as we neared camp, it was clear the battle would not occur another day.

Because war drums were beating.

I kicked the horse into a gallop.

“Slow down!” Caikun cried. “This is no place for you! Get back to camp, Fei! I will pass the message to Siwang!”

“He won’t listen to you!” I cried. Though Siwang didn’t listen to me, either, I could make him listen. I would make both him and Yexue listen.

I rode into the field where the armies were gathered just as Siwang raised his hands in the horizon, a motion for his armies to attack.

“No!” My voice carried through the silence before the storm. “Stop!”

“Fei!” Despite the distance, Yexue heard me, and his hand paused on his sword.

“Stop!” I cried again. Please, don’t kill him. I had seen this moment before; I knew what Yexue intended to do with that sword.

“You traitor!” someone cried as I rode toward the rear formation of Lan soldiers, kicking my horse harder, hoping to reach Yexue before—

Someone jumped out in front of my horse, scaring it to a stop. As it reared onto its hind legs, I grabbed tight to the reins to keep myself from falling.

“Little Li is a spy working for the Lans! Arrest him!” Someone ran up and tried to pull me from my horse.

“Stop!” Luyao cried, drawing his blade. “Li is not the enemy!”

In the background, a violent tempest of galloping hooves and clashing swords sounded.

Siwang. I need to protect Siwang.

I tried to turn and look for him, but all I saw was chaos. Flashes of crimson and deep blue, and earsplitting screams.

“Get back to camp!” Luyao hissed from behind me; our own comrades had us encircled now. “Caikun will tell Siwang to surrender, but you need to get back to camp! It is not safe here—”

Luyao never got to finish. Because the next thing I heard was his limp body hitting the ground.

Something sticky and hot sprayed the back of my neck, then my cheeks, then my eyes.

No.

“Luyao?” I turned to see Luyao clutching his throat where a blue-feathered arrow had lodged itself and blood was pouring out in thick, heavy torrents. “Luyao!”

Running over to us was a group of blue-uniformed soldiers. I recognized one of them as a guard who had accompanied Yexue and me to Xiangxi.

“Come with us!” he cried, and tried to grab me.

“Get off me!” I pushed him away and fell to my knees, pressing my hand where the arrow had struck Luyao.

Pressure. I need to apply pressure. I ripped a piece of my robe and pressed it against his throat, but the blood wasn’t slowing.

“Fei,” came Yexue’s voice from beside me as his hand touched my cheek, where Caikun had hit me. “Who did this to you?”

It took all my will not to drive another dagger through his chest.

The shuffle of footsteps. His men quickly surrounded us, keeping us safe from Siwang’s advancing soldiers.

Swords clashing.

Bodies falling.

“Let’s go,” Yexue repeated.

I didn’t take his hand. I didn’t even look at him. The only thing I could do was cry.

“Luyao…” On my knees, I clung to my friend. “Don’t die. Please, don’t die….”

“Tell Zhangxi that I love her,” Luyao choked through the blood.

“Tell my son that his father died protecting him. Tell my Zhangxi that I hope our baby meets me through her stories, that our baby grows up knowing his father loved him. From the moment she told me the news, I’ve loved him. Please…Tell him…”

His words came to a stop.

“Luyao!” I cried, shaking him. “Please, Luyao, wake up. Wake—”

I flinched when I felt a hand touch my shoulder again, as if to comfort me.

Yexue.

“Save him,” I begged, grabbing him by the hand, pulling closer to Luyao’s limp body as if the mere presence of him was enough to change what had already been done.

“Save him like you’ve saved me. He’s a good man.

He’s kind. He has a wife and a child, and his baby needs to meet his father and know how good a man he is.

He doesn’t deserve to die. If anyone here deserves to live, it’s him. ”

Yexue gave one fleeting glance down at Luyao, then shook his head. “He’s dead.”

Two words, plain and simple. “But I’ve seen you save others. You saved that boy!”

“Men die all the time, Fei.” Yexue knelt until we were face to face, his lips thin as if it pained him to tell me this. But if Yexue wanted to save Luyao, he could. Right? “I can’t bring the already dead back to life. Not even for you.”

I held Luyao tighter. “You are lying.”

“Even my magic has its limits. I can heal someone, or steal them from Death’s arms. But once someone is gone, they are gone for good. Believe me, I’ve tried before.”

Though his voice held a somber weight, there was no remorse or guilt in his eyes, as if he felt nothing over the death of a man.

I wondered how many men he had killed in the past year, and whether he felt remorse for any of them.

It wasn’t fair, how he and Siwang got to remain high and mighty in their palaces while men like Luyao died.

Enough.

“Everything stops here. Today,” I said.

“Take your hands off her!” Rong’s soldiers broke through the circle of blue-uniformed men who had surrounded us, a man in black armor leading the way.

Siwang charged for Yexue, a silver sword in hand.

“Fei, we have to go,” Yexue said, his eyes still lingering on me.

Which gave Siwang the chance to cut a path through the clashing soldiers and thrust his silver blade into Yexue’s abdomen.

Yexue moved out of the way just in time to avoid the brunt of the impact, but not quickly enough to miss the blade entirely. A slash of crimson at his side, staining his impeccable white robes.

The Prince of Lan grimaced. “I hate it when my clothes get dirty.”

Siwang laughed. “You are not immortal after all.”

Yexue’s lips rippled into a snarl. “I really didn’t want to do this in front of Fei.”

Just as Siwang raised his sword again, Yexue caught Siwang with inhuman speed and twisted his hand until Siwang fell to his knees, screaming. Yexue’s wound was already healed under his silk robe; the only shades of red that remained were the blood clinging to his clothes.

Then, the crack of bones.

Siwang’s hand bent at an unnatural angle.

I gasped.

Yexue seized the fallen sword and drove it deep into the folds of Siwang’s armor, straight into his rib cage.

“An eye for an eye, a killing blow for a killing blow,” Yexue whispered. “You are lucky that I am merciful. I will grant you a slower death than you intended for me.”

Siwang let out an inhuman groan; his breathing became short and shallow in an instant.

Yexue threw down the blade and took Siwang by the throat, teeth bared like a tiger ready to devour prey. “My blood is a very precious thing, you know. If you spill even a drop, you have to pay the price.”

“Stop!” I cried before Yexue could follow through with the threat by breaking either Siwang’s neck or his other hand. I grabbed the fallen blade and thrust it up to Yexue’s throat, close enough for the silver to press against his flesh, though not hard enough to draw blood.

On the other side of the blade, Yexue met my eyes. “You said he’s not your prince anymore, Fei.”

“Don’t you think you’ve killed enough people today?” I choked, looking at Luyao’s still body and the soldiers falling all around us as blades continued to clash. Red against blue, Rong against Lan, mortals against mortals. All divided by the idea of nations and borders and enemies and foes.

“Two lives will hardly matter on my tally,” Yexue said quietly, his voice so nonchalant it made me shiver.

“You told me we should not feel responsible for the crimes of others, but that doesn’t apply to men who are killing others under your orders.”

Yexue’s lips twitched. But it wasn’t a smile.

He tightened his grip around Siwang’s throat, and Siwang let out another croak of pain.

“The more you beg for his life, the more I want him dead, Fei. What’s so great about him?

A useless man like him does not deserve you begging like this.

He wasn’t worthy of you a year ago, and he surely isn’t worthy now. ”

“I am not begging.” I pressed the blade even harder against his throat. “I am negotiating. Let Siwang go; he will sign the treaty and end this war. Isn’t this what you want?”

“I’m…not…” Siwang choked.

I swung the sword till it was pointing at Siwang this time, though not close enough to touch. “ You are in no position to make demands,” I snapped.

Yexue’s lip fluttered at the edges, and his grip on Siwang loosened, just a little. “Too little, too late, empress-to-be. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want peace. I want his blood. ”

“Fei…,” Siwang choked, my name a broken sound from his lips that only made Yexue tighten his grip. Siwang’s face was already going red, his veins bulging.

“Yexue, you said that you want to be a good emperor.” I swung the sword back in Yexue’s direction until its tip bit where his jugular ticked.

The blade trembled in my hand as I looked up at Yexue’s dark eyes. The eyes of a predator. But that man who had laughed and made jokes with me in the carriage had to be in there, somewhere.

But what would happen if I inched forward, just a little, and drew blood?

Siwang had told me that one of the only ways to kill a vampire was by ripping out their heart or severing their head from this body.

What if I tried to do that now, cut Yexue’s head from his body…

? Would it work? Would it be the end of this war, the end of Yexue?

Or would Yexue’s patience run out before I could try?

He was faster, and stronger. If he wanted me dead, it would be so easy.

“Your beloved prince burned Changchun and everyone inside to ashes without hesitation and without mercy,” Yexue said. “Why shouldn’t I do the same to avenge all the lives that were lost?”