Page 56 of Empire's Curse

“I—” She swallowed down the fear that made her shiver like a newborn fawn. “I went to see what the ringing bells were about, and that’s when I came upon the room and?—”

“I’m not talking about that.” The dark look was back on his face, seeming more intense than before. “I’m asking what you’ve done with the princeling. Have you conspired with him against me?”

“What? No!” She shook her head and wiped her clammy, trembling hands on her thighs. “I’m not conspiring against you! Please, you have to believe me!”

“Then why were you with him?!” he roared, pushing awayfrom the bed frame. “Why did you need to use magic with him? And on the same day that the traitor was caught? Are you behind all of this?”

“No! No, I’m not! You have to believe me!” Tears of panic stung her eyes and she didn’t care about anything other than saving her neck as she strode over her puddle of vomit laced with bile, and grabbed the front of his black, military-style robes. “Please, Your Majesty. I would never try to conspire against you! I just wanted to see how my family was doing! Please, you have to?—”

Muyang wrenched her hands away from him and drew away from her. “I don’t believe anything you say,” he sneered. Heavy magic seemed to fill the dense air and Daiyu suppressed a sob as he continued to glare at her. “What did you need his magic for?”

If the emperor didn’t believe her, she’d die. Her family would die. Everyone she cared for would die. Maybe even her whole village would be burned down. The morbid thoughts made her whole body feel like it was turning inside out. She couldn’t see anything beyond Muyang and his furious expression.

“I’m telling you!” Her hands quivered and she could barely breathe through the thickening fog between them. “You can use magic to see if I’m lying, or—or something to see if I’m being truthful! Please, I would never do anything against you?—”

Muyang grabbed her face and turned it so she was staring up at him. He didn’t grip her tightly, and yet she shuddered in fear. His breath was warm against her face, like a gentle caress, so unlike the violence he seemed to be teetering toward. “Little rabbit, you’ve displeased me. You should have never used him for whatever you needed. If you’re lying to me?—”

“I’m not,” she interrupted, tears filling up her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

He searched her for answers and she couldn’t stop from crumpling her face in terror. He would kill her, wouldn’t he? There was no reason for him to keep her alive. She was disposableand worthless, and he could find hundreds of women to replace her with.

Finally, Muyang released her. “What did you need his magic for?”

“My family—” She struggled to come up with something coherent, her mind racing. “I wanted to see how they were doing. I haven’t seen them in weeks. My sister—I wanted to see … And, and, and my brothers?—”

“Why did you need his magic for that?”

“I … I don’t know.” Daiyu stared at the jade bracelet wound around her wrist and remembered what Feiyu had told her—that this bracelet would protect her somehow. She wished so badly in that moment for Feiyu to be here, to save her from the emperor’s wrath. “I thought he could help me, so I asked for his help. I didn’t mean to get him in trouble, nor did I intend to invoke your anger. I just wanted to see if my family was doing well; that’s all.”

Muyang continued to stare at her mistrustingly. Daiyu wrung her hands together and breathed through her nose. She didn’t trust herself not to burst into sobs and beg at his feet—something she thought he would take great disgust in.

He exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his face. “I’ll believe you, fornow. But”—he turned to her sharply and she couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief as his eyes narrowed—“donotuse Yat-sen, or anyone, for their magic. I will not have my woman entertaining different men, askingthemfor help when you can come tome.”

Daiyu tightened her hold on the bracelet on her wrist and didn’t dare mention how Feiyu had helped her countless times. She mutely bobbed her head.

He looked from her to the vomit on the floor, and then to her stained skirts. His lips curled back in thinly veiled revulsion. “Clean yourself up and don’t irritate me again.”

Muyang turned to leave and Daiyu laced her hands in front of her tightly. He would be leaving in a matter of seconds, and shewould be free from his anger. She had somehow survived. She had lived through his anger, even when he suspected her.

But she was about to toss it all away.

She squeaked, “Y-Your Majesty?”

Muyang paused in front of the door and glanced over his shoulder at her. She had been so close to leaving this unscathed, but something continued to bother her and she couldn’t hold herself back.

“I—” She cleared her throat, willing her voice to be stronger as she raised her chin and stared at him levelly. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest and she could feel the sweat collecting at the nape of her neck. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t punish Yat-sen for helping me. He was only doing what I asked him to do, and it’s not his fault. Please.”

In seconds, his expression darkened. The entire room seemed to have stilled, and a loud, whistling wind banged against the shuttered windows. “You beg for me to save that child from punishment?”

“Yes.” Her voice didn’t waver, even as her whole body quivered.

“He knew what the punishment for his crime was when he helped you,” Muyang snarled. He grasped the doorframe of the sliding door and it cracked under pressure, his fingers leaving indents in the now-splintered wood. “I will not spare him. Not even for you.”

“But—”

“Silence!” He treaded toward her and she scrambled back until she slammed into the wall. He was inches away from her and she couldn’t stop from staring up at him with wide, saucer-like eyes. She had never seen him look so infuriated; she was accustomed to seeing a neutral, sometimes maniacal air to him. But not this—not pure fury and animosity that seemed directed at her. “I don’t want you defending worthless scum like him.”

“But he didn’t do anything wrong!”

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