Page 51 of Empire's Curse

“Good night, Your Majesty.”

Muyang let the curtains fall, and she could hear his light footsteps head to the door. It slid open and then clicked shut. It was only then that she felt truly alone in the cold, dark room. She flopped down on the thick fur blankets and inhaled the scent of jasmine and sandalwood still fresh against the sheets. Her face was a patchwork of blotchy, blushing skin, and she slid between the covers to better stave off the chill. But that only made everything worse because with his scent enveloping her in a sweet embrace, and knowing that she was in his bed, she couldn’t stop the warring, confusing emotions in her chest.

What in the world was happening with her? She truly couldn’t be interested in him in any way. She reminded herself of his cruelty and how many terrible things he had done. How many lives he had ruined.

But as her eyelids grew heavier, the last thing she could remember was the softness of his voice as he apologized to her. And her heart felt lighter as she replayed their conversation until sleep lulled her away.

19

Daiyu was runningthrough a field of blurring chrysanthemums and swaying grass, her hands outstretched toward a shadowed figure. The distance between them grew wider with every sluggish step she took forward.

“Heng! Heng!” she shouted, pushing her way through to reach her dead fiancé. She felt like she was running in slow motion. The fields of flowers were hazy and indistinct as she shoved her way headfirst. Her breath came in gasps. And yet Heng was even farther away now. Her legs moved like they were stuck in sticky, thick syrup. “Heng! Wait,please!”

Tears of frustration stung her eyes. He was going to leave her, again, but … but she needed to explain herself to him. To tell him that she still loved him, even though?—

She didn’t want to think of Muyang.

“Heng!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears and she dropped down to her knees. More tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t stop the torrent of guilt and sadness washing over her. If the war hadn’t taken Heng away, would they be happily married at this point?

“I seem to have dropped by at an unexpectedly emotional moment,” a smooth voice said from behind her.

A shiver ran down her spine and she spun around to find a giant tree a few feet away from her. Underneath the heavy branches full of lustrous reddish-yellow leaves, Feiyu sat cross-legged, his head tilted to the side, and a black and gold dragon mask covering his face. His green robes fluttered against the wind, and his long hair joined it as well.

All thoughts of sadness and grief seemed to dull in that moment.

Daiyu’s eyebrows pulled together. “Feiyu? What areyoudoing here?”

He chuckled softly. “To see you, of course. I needed to confirm that you aren’t dead.”

“What?” It was at that exact instant that she realized she was dreaming. She looked around herself at the changing scenery—she was now in the woods, with the sun falling over them and trees canopying the sky. She could hear a river rippling in the distance and birds tweeting atop the branches.

“I needed to make sure—” he started again.

“You’re a few weeks too late,” Daiyu finally said with a long sigh. She pushed herself to her feet and wiped her damp cheeks. She turned her anger onto Feiyu, who hadn’t moved from his position. “I’ve been through hell and back! I can’t believe you didn’t even help me!”

It was all a dream, so she didn’t need to worry about what he thought or how she shouldn’t anger a high mage.

“Who was that?” Feiyu’s voice came out softer. “A former lover?”

Her chest tightened and she turned to glance over her shoulder as if she might catch a glimpse of Heng farther away. “My fiancé.”

“Is he …?”

“Dead? Very much so.” It had been four years since he had passed and she hated how she couldn’t even remember his face that well anymore. She couldn’t remember the tiny details that had made him so loveable. So charming. So … like Heng.

“What was he like?”

“He was my best friend.” A warm breeze pushed past them, and she breathed in the scent of summer and grass. “He was … kind, caring, and a bit naïve about the world. He thought he could become a hero.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

Daiyu shook her head, the guilt still heavy in her chest. “You didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you help me?”

“You didn’t ask a question.” He laughed this time, and she wanted to reach forward and yank his mask off. But something seemed to be keeping them apart—like an invisible barrier. “But, well, I was busy, unfortunately. Because of the impending war with the rebels led by General Keung, I’ve been doing some tasks for His Majesty. I didn’t notice you went missing until it was too late.”

“Even in a dream, you’re …” She struggled to come up with the words as she stepped closer, but the distance between them remained the same.

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