Page 50 of Empire's Curse

Daiyu licked her suddenly chapped lips. Even though his words should have reassured her, the tightening anxiety in her chest didn’t loosen. The shadows of the night seemed darker here, and everything was too quiet. His gaze was too inquisitive, too oppressive, too mysterious. She wasn’t sure if she could even believe him. Not when they were alone in his bedchambers.

She wanted to leave, but her legs were leaden, weighing more than the discomfort flitting in her twisted stomach.

Muyang watched her and she wished she could read his blank expression—she wished she could figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling—but he was a monochrome canvas. No matter how much she tried to stare into his dark eyes, they were shuttered.

“I can imagine your ordeal with those ruffians was quite terrifying.” His voice came out smoothly, lowly, and with a hint of anger.

She blinked, taken aback by this new turn of conversation. “It …” Without warning, her throat tightened and her voice thickened. “It was horrifying.”

Daiyu hadn’t wanted to linger on the overwhelming fear she had felt while captive. Of the terrifying thoughts of torture, murder, and assault she had thought she would go through. Any time her kidnappers laughed or inched too close to her, she was stricken with unimaginable anxiety—fearing that her worst nightmarewould occur right then and there. And that continued for days. Not sleeping well, not eating well, not being able to relieve herself without someone sneering and leering at her.

She had tried to bury those thoughts away the instant Atreus had saved her. She had thought she had numbed herself to it all. But right here, with Muyang examining her so closely, with the secrecy of night surrounding them in lush darkness, her heart trembled.

“The worst thing I’ve gone through, by far,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she thought of Qian, Bao, and the rest of the grim-faced bandits. “I thought … I thought so many horrible things would happen to me.”

“I apologize if I’m reminding you of them.”

“You—You’re nothing like them, Your Majesty,” she said quickly and what surprised her the most—she actually meant it. He was many things, but she couldn’t imagine him being like those rough bandits. She couldn’t imagine him sniggering at her and ogling her like those men had done, and the truth of that shocked her.

But you don’t know him, a small voice whispered.He could very well be just as terrible as those men.

Tenseness grew between them and Muyang shifted on the bed until he was sitting cross-legged—and farther away from her. He tilted his head to the side, his long hair falling over his shoulder. “If Atreus hadn’t killed them, I would have brought each of them to your feet so you could cut their throats with your own hands,” he said quietly, a low rumble in his voice.

Daiyu cringed. She had already seen them die horribly by Atreus’s sword—well, truthfully, she had been more concerned with fleeing than watching them die, but she had seen the gruesome outcome. “I don’t think I can handle killing someone.”

“Everyone starts somewhere.” He reached forward as if to touch a strand of her hair but stopped short and let his hand drop on his thigh. “You’ll learn.”

Was that what it meant to be his wife? To be just like him? Tokill like him? Toenjoykilling? She shivered but not from the cold. “They’re already dead, so I …” She remembered his earlier words that day and lifted her chin to stare at him squarely. “I’ll let them stay dead.”

The corner of his mouth curled. “If you don’t wish to kill those who wrong you, that is fine. I won’t let blood dirty your hands.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Until you wish it, I’ll be the one driving a dagger through the hearts of your enemies.” His smile grew, and something fluttered in her chest at the dark promise. “I’ll be your villain for as long as you need me to be.”

Daiyu suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze and stared down at her hands, which couldn’t stop fidgeting over the fur blankets and silk sheets—anything to keep them busy and as far away from him as possible. Heat traveled up her neck and warmed her cheeks. She couldn’t think straight, her tongue tied together and her thought even more tangled.

“At the palace, I’ll have one of my trusted soldiers as your personal guard. Her name is Vita. I think you’ll feel more at ease having another woman keep close to you.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or more tense at the idea of someone watching over her. It could be that he was assigning a spy to watch her every move, or it was simply for her own protection. “Vita … I’ve never heard that name before.”

“She’s from Sanguis.”

“The same as Atreus?” A thought struck her. Was Vita also a member of thePeccata, like Yat-sen had mentioned?

“Yes. She’s Atreus’s … sister, in a sense.” He lifted his shoulders. “Not by blood, though.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, Your Majesty … I’ll feel more at ease knowing someone will protect me.” Maybe this way she wouldn’t get poisoned again. Or kidnapped. Or worse.

But it also made it harder for her to slip away—and now withthe pressing issue of her family badly needing her, she had to speed up her process.

“I’ll let you sleep, now.” Muyang swung his legs over the bed and rose to his feet. He pulled open the drapes of the bed further to step out but stopped to stare down at her. “Good night, my little rabbit.”

Little rabbit.

She hated that she was prey.

But she couldn’t hate him completely for calling her that—not when he promised her such a strange, strange thing.

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