Page 47 of Empire's Curse

“Y-Yes.” He eased her hands off him and she quickly pulled back.

“Ah, I’m so sorry?—”

“No, it’s fine?—”

“I’m just …” Tears stung her eyes and she couldn’t hold back her smile. “I would be extremely grateful if you can help.”

“I can but …” He nodded at the door, and then back at the others at the table. “We have to keep it a secret.”

“I can do that.” Daiyu bobbed her head rapidly. “Of course.”

“Please don’t tell His Majesty.”

It was just another secret she would have to keep from Muyang, but considering how she already had a plethora of lies she had told him, she doubted keeping another would harm her at all.

17

Daiyuand the prince left the dining hall and when there were no guards or soldiers present, snuck into the cellar beneath the fortress kitchen that housed most of the wine, rice, barley, and potatoes. It was apparently one of the only rooms that wasn’t frequented after dinner, and they found a hiding place between two large shelves stuffed with barrels of wheat.

They both kneeled in the small space. It was dark in the cellar, and the only light came from sconces attached to the cold, gray walls. Their breaths came out in white streams, and even though they were mostly alone—save for the occasional servant who came down to retrieve bottles of wine—she felt like there were eyes and ears everywhere.

“Lady Daiyu.” He held his hand out to her. “I can basically open a portal for us to see how your family is doing, but since I know nothing about where they’re located, I need you to create a mental image of your home, or a certain person you want me to locate.”

She slipped her hand into his clammy one. “I can do that, but …” Her blood ran cold and she swallowed down the apprehension climbing up her throat. She glanced at the cracks between the barrels of wheat, half-expecting someone to be staring back at them. “Does this mean that anyone with magic can peek into what we’re doing?” She didn’t like the idea of Muyang, or someone else, watching her whenever he felt like it. Or even Feiyu. All at once, it felt like her privacy was stripped from her and she wondered if that skin-crawling feeling she had felt in the palace—of eyes and ears everywhere—was because there trulywerepeople spying on her like this.

“People who are proficient with this kind of magic are able to spy on other people, yes,” he said. “But don’t worry, anyone who knows how to use even basic magic can put up a barrier. I have a barrier on me at all times that protects me from it. So no one is able to peek into what we’re doing right now.”

Her relief was short-lived because it wasn’t likeshehad a barrier on her at all times like Yat-sen did. Muyang, Feiyu, and other mages could spy on her whenever they wanted to. Whether she was eating, sleeping, or … evenbathing.

The thought sent a smoldering blush over her cheeks, and she was glad Yat-sen wasn’t able to see her in this darkness. “Well … that’s reassuring.”

“You can also buy a trinket or magicked jewelry item that has protection barriers on it,” he explained, tightening his hold on her fingers. “Anyway, let’s try to hurry before anyone comes in here.”

“Ah, yes, or course.” She couldn’t forget the task at hand: seeing how her family was faring. She came up with a mental image of her family home. With the tall bamboo fences around their garden, the leveled rice paddies surrounding their stone house, the smell of warm earth and grains and soft summer winds.

Yat-sen closed his eyes, his forehead creasing with concentration. A tingle of electrifying magic warmed their joined hands and Daiyu watched in amazement as a swirl of bluish-green energy buzzed a foot away from them. The tendrils of blue-green grew larger until there was a circular window in front of them, the edges hazy and glimmering purple. An image formed in the portal, and Daiyu gasped as she noticed her familiar home.

“That’s it!” she said, excitement leaking into her voice. “That’s?—”

But something was wrong. Even in the darkness of night, with the clouded moon barely shining onto the property, the leveled fields looked … wrong. There were no swaying tall rice stalks. The fence around the home was destroyed. The walls of the house appeared scorched and damaged. The shingles on one side of the roof were completely broken and marred black.

A dizzying panic took hold of her. Maybe it wasn’t her home—but that hopeful thought was quickly dashed when she recognized their smashed chicken coop with its distinctive green shade and swirling designs she had painted when she was a young girl. Even in the night, she could make out the childish whorls she had drawn to mimic clouds.

“It’s … everything’s destroyed.” The walls of the cellar seemed to close in on her and she couldn’t breathe, her chest contracting like someone was twisting a cork. Tighter and tighter, until she couldn’t think straight. Until her breaths came in small gasps. “My family?—”

The image shifted to the inside of her home, and she spotted her family sleeping in the living room. She counted the bundled figures, recognizing the twins by their pretzeled sleeping position across the floor, and sighed in relief once everyone was accounted for. No one was dead at least.

“Who could have done that?” Yat-sen asked quietly. “Your home … the rice paddies, the gardens …”

She shook her head, finding it hard to speak without breaking down in tears. Everyone was alive and she was grateful for that, but their livelihood—their rice paddies—were completely destroyed. She couldn’t even imagine how they would live without this year’s harvest. Her only consolation was that most of their home garden seemed to be intact, so they could definitely survive the rest of the summer with their vegetables and whatever was in their storage … But that would run out quickly, especially with six mouths to feed.

Why would anyone demolish it all?

“Did His Majesty …?” The question hung in the air and she didn’t want to voice it. Didn’t want to think about what it meant to make the emperor her enemy. And yet …

“No.” Yat-sen stared at the images of her sleeping family—of Lanfen with the covers up to her chin, of Grandmother lying on the extra cushioned bedroll, of her parents sleeping near one another, and her twin brothers sprawled closely together. “His Majesty gains nothing from harming your family. And trust me when I say that if His Majesty wanted to destroy their home … there would be nothing left. It appears like someone used magic to blight the fields? At least that’s what I think, since it seems too precise. Do you have any enemies?”

“No, of course not—” But then she remembered how someone had tried to poison her a few weeks ago, and she wasn’t so sure anymore. “Maybe.”

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