She did have to protect him, in the same way her father- their father-had. “He was my father too.”Ī lump formed in Hesina’s throat. “You don’t have to protect me, milady.” Red lantern light edged his profile as he looked into the distance. “If we’re caught … if someone sees us…”Ī man bellowed an opera under the tiled eave of a dilapidated inn, and something porcelain shattered, but Caiyan’s voice still cleaved the night.
“I won’t be able to protect you.” Hesina scuffed one foot over the other under the hem of her ruqun. Only Caiyan could make treason sound so bland. I am to lead the whole way, or I don’t take you to this person at all.” “You’re hoping that I’ll say ‘yes’ so you can proceed alone. “How would you find the way?” asked Caiyan, countering her question with one of his own.Ĭaiyan raised a brow. He wasn’t renowned for making bad decisions-unless they were in her name. At nineteen, his reputation was unparalleled, his mind more so. At seventeen, he’d become a viscount of the imperial court. At fifteen, Caiyan had passed the civil service examinations. He looked remarkably calm for someone risking death by a thousand cuts-crisply dressed despite the rough-hewn hanfu, every dark hair of his topknot in place. Grip hardening, she turned to her brother. Figuring out how to live with herself afterward … not so much. She could let her resolve fade like the wisp of poison bottled in the vial. Hesina’s fingers closed around the glass vial dangling from her silk broad-belt. If he called her “milady” out here, he might as well call her Princess Hesina.
Her brother held her back before she could cross. Some came to the seediest business quarter of the imperial city to buy warmth. When they arrived at the red-light district’s peeling archway, an ember sparked in the girl’s stomach. They emerged from the secret passageways the girl knew well- too well, perhaps, given her identity-and darted between courtyard compounds and walled wards, venturing toward the market sectors.
When it descended into the bowels of the palace, so did the girl and her brother. It rolled down the neighboring Shanlong Mountains and embalmed the limestone boulevards. Those who lingered in the city streets kept their eyes trained on the Eastern Gate, where the queen would be making her annual return. The three-day mourning ritual had ended most had gone home to break the fast. No night was perfect for treason, but this one came close. But in trying times, truth is the first thing we betray.
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