Page 43 of Empire's Curse

Finally, he chuckled, low and soft and musical. “Fine, keep the cloak. But after your bath, I want you to burn it. Burn it and forget everything that transpired the past two weeks. Don’t let any of those men haunt your dreams. From what I’ve learned in life is that the dead should stay dead, and the living should continue to live.”

“Do you have experience with that, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, plenty.” His eyes flashed. “Do you know how many men I’ve killed in my lifeline? Men on the battlefield, traitors in front of the throne who lick my boots, enemies who think they can take what’s mine? If I let every single one of them linger in my thoughts for too long, I would not be able to continue walking with the weight of their dead hands on my shoulders. So every person I’ve killed, I quickly forgot. Because what’s the point in continuing to think of a dead man? Let him stay dead.”

Whatever little moment was conspiring between them seemed to crack and splinter at the edges as reality sank in—when he was in front of her talking so casually and calmly, it was easy to forget that he was a powerful emperor who had killed countless people. She almost forgot how much blood stained his legacy. How many people had to die for him to take the throne. Including her dead fiancé, Heng.

Daiyu pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear and Qian’s words wouldn’t stop bouncing in her mind.

Look at you now—cozying up to the same man who killed your fiancé.

An uncomfortable, heavy, and stifling feeling took hold of her chest, seeming to choke what little energy she had. Was she actually enjoying conversing with Muyang? That couldn’t be true. She was terrified of him and was planning on leaving him and everything he stood for, after all. And yet, uneasiness rooted within her, like a seed growing too rapidly to fit inside its pot. She didn’t like the effect Muyang was having on her and how guilty her conscience felt in his presence. She needed to find a way to end this faster, before things became more complicated.

Daiyu coughed and rubbed the nape of her neck to busy her fidgeting hands. “Your Majesty, is my bath ready?”

“It should be.” Muyang stood up and motioned to the door. “Come with me.”

16

Daiyu trailedbehind Muyang as they walked through the winding, busy halls of the castle. Soldiers dropped down to low bows when Muyang passed, but he only gave them a short nod of acknowledgment before breezing past them. It felt strange to see the waves of people lower themselves in front of him, and it almost felt like they were bowing toher, since she was walking so close to him.

It wasn’t a feeling she could ever get used to, or want to get used to. It made her uncomfortable more than anything else.

When they reached a hallway that was less hectic than the rest, on one of the top levels, Muyang swung open the door and marched inside without a backward glance at her. She scrambled after him, taking in the spacious room with two couches across from one another, a large metal-braced window showcasing the fortress courtyard below, and the sliding doors sectioning the other chambers of the room. In the center, a giant wooden bathtub was placed upon a multicolored rug with tigers and dragons and snakes dancing over it. A large hearth warmed the room and painted it in hues of orange.

Steam from the bathwater fogged the window panes beyond the latticed metal design, and the smell of jasmine and herbs andsandalwood pervaded the air densely. She approached the tub tentatively, feeling all the more dirt-stained and mucky standing in such an opulent, spotless, fragranced room.

Muyang strolled deeper into the room and unceremoniously dropped on one of the couches. When Daiyu didn’t move and only stared at him with bug eyes, he waved to the bathtub with a lazy hand.

“A bath, like you requested.”

She blinked at the steam curling above the bathwater and then back at Muyang, who made no plans to get up and leave. “Your Majesty,” she said slowly. “I did indeed request a bath, but … I plan to bathe alone.” When his amusement deepened, she reiterated, “With no company. Certainly not a man whom I’m not married to.”

And, she wanted to add,certainly not you.

A touch of mischief played on his face for a split second—so quickly that if she blinked, she would have missed the slight glitter in his eyes. “I’m not just any man, Daiyu. I’m to be your husband.”

“But you’re not my husband.” She shifted on her feet and dug her bandaged toes into the cool hardwood floor. Technically, the emperor could have whatever he wanted. Whether that was to watch her bathe or to take her right then and there; nobody would stop him, and nobody would fault him for taking what he desired.

“But I am the emperor.” His ebony eyes appeared more sinister against the dark evening sky in the background and the orange-red fire glowing in the hearth a few feet from him.

“Youarethe emperor.” Daiyu licked her dry, chapped lips nervously. “You can have whatever you desire, but I ask that you respect my wishes. I am unmarried, and I don’t want to bathe in front of anyone.”

“I remember you telling me that you would jump on me if you continued to remain in my bathing chambers with me. And that, to preserve both of our chastity, you would leave to stopyourself. Do you remember, little rabbit?” He tapped his fingernails against the wooden armrest of the couch and she couldn’t read the expression carved into his stony face. But there was a teasing quality to his tone that didn’t ring any alarm bells, so she didn’t think to back away.

“I—” She lowered her face so he couldn’t see the flush that was spreading. She hated how she was always blushing and being embarrassed around him and how she had made such a fool of herself during their first meeting. “I remember.”

“Unlike you, I have a bit more control,” he said with a small, growing smile. “I won’t jump you.”

“But it’s still improper.” She gripped the rim of the bathtub, tendrils of steam rising over her face and warming her cheeks. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for a man to watch a woman bathe if she isn’t his wife, and for a man to touch a woman who isn’t his wife.”

“You don’t want me to watch you, nor touch you?”

“Correct.” Her fingers turned white from holding the bathtub so tightly, and she hoped he didn’t see her shaking legs. Standing up to the emperor and refusing him was an act punishable by death, but she hoped that whatever was budding between them was enough for him to forgo that route.

Muyang studied her, face expressionless, and seemed to mull over her words. She waited with bated breath, and he finally climbed to his feet.

“Very well. But I’ll hold you to that when we’re married,” he said, walking to the door. “Oh, and before I forget, dinner will be served in an hour downstairs in the dining hall.”

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