Page 26 of Empire's Curse

All of a sudden, something rustled in her room—clothing maybe—and she heard a hiss of a curse. She could barely open her eyes as someone rushed toward her, their boots clacking against the floor. Warmth touched her chest and then her mouth, then something cool slipped down her throat.

“Shit, what happened here?” a familiar voice said, but it came out muffled, like there was a screen covering her ears.

The coolness in her throat persisted, and she inhaled sharply as air filled her airways. She continued to breathe in large gulps of air, and it was only then that she took notice of the snarling black and red dragon staring down at her. She suppressed a scream, only to realize it was Feiyu’s mask. He was cradling her in his arms, one hand gently placed on her stomach.

“What … what are you doing here?” she barely managed to squawk, her throat feeling raw and scratchy.

“Saving your life,” he said, his dark eyes boring into her through the sockets in the dragon mask. “You called for me.”

Daiyu’s stomach churned and she grimaced as waves of nausea rolled over her. “I think I was poisoned.”

“It appears like it.” He eyed the broken cup a few feet away from her. “Do you know who did it? Or why?”

She shook her head and her stomach clenched again. “I think—I think I’m going to?—”

She didn’t have time to warn him as she turned her head and emptied the contents of her stomach onto his lap. He stiffened and cursed again while she breathed out shakily, streams of bile and undigested food tracking down her mouth to his thigh.

“S-Sorry,” she muttered.

Feiyu propped her into a sitting position, his gaze locked on the vomit staining his once-pristine emerald robes. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

“I’m sorry,” Daiyu said, her nose crinkling at the sour, fermented scent of her vomit.

He pulled her into his arms in one swoop and rose to his feet. Daiyu stifled a gasp as her hands flew to his broad chest. “Nothing a little water and soap won’t fix,” he grumbled, walking toward her couch.

A blush spread over her face immediately, and she averted his gaze as he carried her. She could feel the lean muscle of his arms and his chest, and there was a sweet scent that came off him that was mostly covered by the smell of her puke.

He gently laid her down on the couch and pulled away from her to inspect her feet, which had small cuts from the sharp slivers of the broken cup she had stepped on. “Who could have done this?” he asked, gently prodding her feet with curious fingers.

She almost retracted herself into a ball at the sudden touch, had she not noticed the green glow emitting from his hand. Almost at once, the imbedded shards pulled free from her feet and plinked to the floor.

“I don’t know.” Daiyu leaned her head into the plush pillows. A cooling and healing sensation covered her feet and she closed her eyes. “I didn’t realize I had enemies here.”

“You suspect the other women?”

“It’s possible?” She remembered her conversation with Jia last week and shuddered. “The other women might be jealous that I was chosen, even though they’ve been here longer. And the emperor hasn’t chosen anyone else yet, so I can only suspect it’s one of them.”

“Hm.” The mage removed his hand from her and her eyes flew open at the now-empty feeling. She wanted to reach forward and ask him to continue his healing touch, but the thought sounded absurd to her ears, and her face flushed with warmth. What was wrong with her?

“W-Well.” She cleared her sore throat. “I’d like to at least find the maid who gave me the tea. Is there any way you can track her? Like with magic?”

Feiyu nodded slowly, and through the holes of the mask, she could make out a scar on his eyelid. “I can try, but it might takeme some time, since many people come and go into your room. What does she look like?”

“Tall.” She tried remembering more of the maid, but the woman had kept her head low for most of their interaction. “She was very thin, and I think she had a mole above her eyebrow.”

“Are you sure she didn’t paint the mole on herself?”

“Why … why would she do that?”

He shrugged. “The palace maids follow fashion trends, and that is a current trend among the noble ladies. Nonetheless, I will be on the lookout for the maid.”

“Thank you,” she said, and her throat closed up at the near-death experience. “For … for also saving my life.”

“I’ve neutralized the poison in your body, so you should be fine in a few hours.”

“I said thank you,” she said again.

This time, he chuckled, his broad chest rumbling with the motion. “Don’t mention it. It makes me feel awkward.”

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