Page 120 of Empire's Curse

“Daiyu, you know nothing about Muyang.” He stared at her levelly, his head not rising from his resting position. “You know nothing about what makes him cursed. Why he should have never ruled and why he’s currently suffering the consequences of his actions. You should hate him. You should rejoice now that you’ll be free from him. You shouldn’t be here, begging at my feet for me to save the very man who doomed you to live in the palace when you only wished to rescue your sister.”

“I love him,” she said quietly, her voice coming out strong despite the turmoil in her chest. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You ran away from him mere days ago.”

“I … I see things differently now.” She lowered her head, hating the tremor in her words and the weakness she was baring to him. “I don’t want to run away anymore. I want to stand in the palace and face Muyang head-on. I made a mistake by running the first time. I want to stay and fight. I want to?—”

“Who’s to say he won’t make another error and cast you aside? Will you run then too?”

“No—”

“What if he abandons you for another?”

“He won’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure? You know nothing about Muyang.”

“I know enough to know that he wouldn’t knowingly hurtme. He wouldn’t put me in that position—not again.” Her voice faltered, but she remembered the confidence with which Muyang had spoken to her. How he had promised that he wouldn’t hurt her. That he was so very sorry for breaking her heart. “And … And if he does, I’ll face him. I’ll tackle that problem when—if—it arises. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen because Muyang loves me.”

“You’re making assumptions about a man whose reputation is far worse than you can ever imagine.”

She raised her chin. “I know who he is. I knew who Muyang was when I agreed to marry him.”

Usurper. Murderer. Wicked.

He was Drakkon Muyang.

Feared across the lands for his vast power.

She didn’t know everything there was to know about him, but that was why he needed to survive—so they could get to know one another more. So they could fall deeper and harder in love. So that they could live their lives together.

Feiyu watched her unblinkingly. The stars seemed to glimmer brighter, his scales appearing more silver as he lifted his head toward her. His breath streamed out of his mouth in white puffs. “Very well, Yin Daiyu. You seem to have put your bets on this man whom you know nothing about. I will put my bets onyou, then. I can save Muyang, but I’ll only do it for a price.”

Her hopes rose and her breath cinched in her chest. “Yes, yes,yes. What’s your price? Tell me and I’ll be able to pay it?—”

“My name.”

She hesitated, unsure if she had heard right. But when he made no move to repeat himself, she murmured, “Your … name?”

“Yes. That is my price.” His gaze pierced her—dragonoid and dark. “Tell me my true name, and I will save your husband.”

“But …” Her mouth dried up. She didn’t know his name. She didn’t knowanythingabout him. He must have been a MuRong, since he had the royal tattoo on his arm, but there had been dozens of MuRongs over the past decades. How was she going toguess which member of the previous royal family he was? She didn’t even know all the princes’ names.

“You have to give me a hint, or, orsomething. I can’t guess your name without knowing anything?—”

“I will share my memories with you, and by the end of it, you will tell me my name.” He leaned closer to her, air steaming from his nostrils and warming her face. She instinctively touched the side of his jaw, her fingers gliding over the smooth scales. “If you’re unable to tell me my name, I will kill your husband myself.”

She opened her mouth to say something—to tell him that he was being cruel—but her vision shifted right before she could. Suddenly, she wasn’t in the mountains anymore. She was elsewhere. Daiyu blinked, her mouth dropping open at the bustling, familiar hallway.

She was in the royal palace.

41

Daiyu spunaround to stare at the ornately decorated halls, with its polished tile floors and the metal latticed windows and the servants running back and forth. But something about it waswrong. It took her a second to realize what it was—the banners throughout the palace had the MuRong insignia of the moon and the serpent plastered on them, instead of the dragon symbol she was so used to seeing. And instead of hues of red and black—the Drakkon colors—the palace had subtle shades of vibrant green and silver—the MuRong colors.

“Excuse me—” Daiyu tried to grab the forearm of a passing woman, but her hand slipped right through the woman as if she wasn’t there. She gasped, taking a step back. Her hands, feet, herwhole body, shimmered like she was a spirit.

Was she … in Feiyu’s memory?

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