Page 25 of Empire's Curse

“That would be for the best,” she muttered. She would rather Muyang’s attention be on other women than her.

“Really? You don’t feel jealous?” Ying asked. “I know I certainly would feel that way?—”

“That’s enough.” Jia gave the two servants a stern look. “I really don’t think you both need to be making her uneasy like that.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Daiyu answered, raising her hands. “It’s only natural the emperor will choose more women to become his concubines or his wives. I certainly won’t be the last.”

Or the first, she hoped.

Their conversation drifted to another topic, and soon, Daiyu found herself nodding and forcing a laugh at mundane things like the weather and court gossip about people she didn’t know. And by the end of their chat, she was thoroughly exhausted and no closer to an escape plan than she had been an hour earlier.

9

Daiyu was growing moreand more bored at the palace. She left her room any chance she got and explored as much of the hallways as she could while staving suspicion, but no matter how many paths she memorized, she was only allowed in the inner palace, which seemed to be deep in the palace and where most of the women were supposedly kept. Anytime she skirted the edges of the inner corridors, her guard would always lead her back inside, never allowing her to venture into the various other parts of the palace.

During the nights, her boredom worsened since she had nowhere to go, and the little activities she was allowed—poetry, books, and writing—were completely useless to her since she couldn’t read or write.

The logs in her hearth in her chambers rumbled to life as a maidservant fed more fuel to them. Daiyu watched the woman with mild interest; she had tried befriending the servants, but they either ignored her or gave her snide looks. Nobody seemed happy to have her here. Which only made her wonder why the emperor was even interested in her.

“Thank you for that,” Daiyu said when the servant backedaway from the roaring flames. “The nights grow chilly, so I appreciate it.”

“Of course, my lady,” the woman said quietly, stiffly.

She walked over to the tea table and poured a cup for her. “Would you like your tea now or after you undress, my lady?”

“Now would be fine,” she said, since the lady had already poured the cup. She had already washed all the cosmetics off her face and undid the various hairpins from her hair, so she didn’t need any more help. “What’s your name?”

“My name is of no importance.” The woman placed the tea in front of Daiyu on the table and stepped away, giving a small bow. “If that is all, I’d like to take my leave.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Daiyu tried smiling at the woman, but she was already heading to the door. Her smile faded as the door clicked shut, and she leaned back into her couch, her shoulders slumping. She hadn’t realized how lonely and dark her days and nights would be. She could understand why the servants were so rigid around her—most of the servants came from lesser important noble families—and they likely hated that they had to serve someone who was so beneath them in status. She was just a simple farmer’s daughter. Nobody special, and yet the emperor was bent on propping her up and making her something she wasn’t.

She rubbed her aching temples and reached for her tea. Her hands warmed instantly around the porcelain cup and she brought it to her mouth. It tasted sweet, earthy, and with hints of floral undertones. She sipped it quietly and stared off at the fire, which continued to flicker and bathe the room in an orange glow.

It had been two weeks since Lanfen had left the palace and Daiyu wasn’t any closer to escaping. Thankfully, Muyang seemed to be busy with his own work to even ask for her, and she was eternally grateful for it. But she knew it wouldn’t take long before he called for her again, and she dreaded how that meeting would go. She also hadn’t heard from Feiyu either, which troubled her. Where was he? Why wasn’t he informing her about anything?

Black dotted her vision and she blinked back, her eyebrowscoming together in confusion at the sudden surge of exhaustion coursing through her body.

Something … wasn’t right.

Just as she thought that, the back of her throat constricted and she brought a hand to her neck. Her airways tightened and she inhaled sharply, only to feel as though less air was coming through. The cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor, tiny shards splintering in every direction as she stumbled to her feet. She didn’t even notice the sharp pain as she stepped over the broken pottery and tried to make it to the door.

Her vision continued to wane and she croaked, “H-Help?—”

She could barely get the words out.

Her stomach tightened, and salty water filled her mouth. In seconds, she retched on the floor, nearly falling in the process. She held on to the decorative armrest of her couch and heaved in deep breaths, and yet she felt even more breathless.

Was it the tea? Did that servant poison her?

She staggered toward the door, her limbs heavy and her body moving like she was wading through thick syrup. More shadows swamped her vision and her throat closed up even further. Her knees slammed to the hard floor and she barely felt anything as her face cracked against the cold tiles. She clawed at her throat, savoring every tiny wisp of air.

“Help,” she whispered weakly, staring at the door that seemed so far away. It seemed to stretch even farther from her as her vision tunneled.

Everything became blacker, like ink was spilling in her eyes and covering the entirety of her vision. Like a dark curtain was pulling in front of her. And she realized in that haunting moment that she would die right here. Alone, and weak, and unable to do anything.

“Feiyu,” she managed to breathe out, her voice raspy and faint. “Feiyu—help.”

The seconds ticked by and her chest burned. She was like a fish flopping out of water, opening her mouth and tryingto breathe. Tears streamed down her stinging eyes, further clouding her vision.

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