Page 105 of The Blood Orchid

I am the Empress, I thought, approaching the doors, my sword clutched tight in my right hand. It was so much heavier than I’d expected, but I wouldn’t let go of it for all the world.

I am the Empress.

The thought repeated, a battle cry that reverberated through my bones. I reached for the door handle, but my hand slipped away, fingers grasping at empty air as if the earth had tilted off its axis. Suddenly there were two door handles, one of them a trick of light. My vision doubled, bright diamonds of sunlight searing through the windows.

I am the Empress.

And I realized, too late, that the thought was not my own.

I fell to the marble floor and crashed straight through it into mud.

And there was Fan Zilan standing over me, backlit by a sky that used to be gray but now was gorgeous crimson, spilled blood and rage. I grappled for Gaozong’s sword, but my hands were empty.

She clutched the blade in both hands, unwavering as she pressed the tip to my throat.

“Iam the Empress,” she said, this time in her own voice, her eyes a gorgeous fire of red and gold.

Despite everything, as the blade rose, I felt a smile curl my lips.

I was not the kind of person who died.

I was not the kind of person who failed.

I did not lie in the mud at anyone’s feet, especially not a merchant’s daughter named after a worthless flower.

But if I had to end, and there was only one thing I could see at the end of my long life, this was what I would choose:

A girl who burned like a comet across the sky, who thought the world could be hers, as I once did.

Until next time, Scarlet, I thought, as she struck down and tore the world in two.

Chapter Twenty-One

I fell against wooden doors, and they opened outward with no resistance, spilling me onto a balcony. My cheek slammed into warm tiles, the sword clattering beside me, the angle of the setting sun knife-sharp in my eyes.

Voices called out for me, but I couldn’t answer at first, too busy reminding myself how it felt to move each finger, to curl my toes, to draw in air. My skin felt foreign, like I’d pulled on someone else’s robes and found the sleeves too short.

Hands closed around my arm and pulled me upright. Yufei was frowning at me as if searching for something in my eyes.

“Is everything all right?” she said.

Wenshu was standing over us, unfurled scroll in both hands as he stared unsubtly at the sword beside me covered in blood. People murmured in the street below, confused at the delay.

“Have you done it yet?” I said.

Wenshu’s gaze snapped back to me. “Not yet.”

I rose to my feet, ignoring Yufei as she tried to steady me. My legs felt numb, but I managed to take two steps towardWenshu, holding out my hands.

“I want to do it,” I said. “Please, let me do it.”

He raised an eyebrow, scanning me from head to toe. “Are you sure?” he said. “You look a bit...”

I looked down at my robes, which were spattered with blood. One sleeve was torn from the wrist up to my shoulder, fluttering like a wing behind me. I tasted blood on my lips, and my hair blowing freely around my face told me that all of my hairpins had fallen out.

But none of it mattered.

There was no longer any reason to hide, or lie, or pretend I was anyone else but a merchant from Guangzhou.

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