Page 59 of Empire's Curse

Daiyu approached an inn and pushed open the rickety, worn door. Warm air breathed against her instantly and she sighed in relief as she staggered inside. Her stomach growled, and she scanned the bustling room quickly. The inn was jampacked with men, all of them wearing thick fur cloaks and their voices bouncing off the walls. The smell of chicken stew and savory broth made her mouth water and she stumbled toward the back counter with stiff legs.

“We don’t have any empty tables, miss,” one of the men, who balanced a metal serving platter with six steaming tea cups, said ashe passed her by to the crowded table to her left. He handed the drinks to the men and gave her a once-over. “You’ll have to share with others. Is that okay?”

Daiyu’s tongue felt heavy in her dry mouth and she bobbed her head quickly. She didn’t care, so long as she was able to drink water and fill her empty belly. “That’s fine,” she rasped, then coughed and rubbed her rigid fingers together.

He jerked his chin to one of the tables at the center of the room. “There’s an empty seat there. All we’ve got for today is hot chicken noodles. We’re out of beef or any other kind of meat.”

“That sounds delicious.” She licked her chapped lips. “Thank you.”

“I’ll bring it over in a minute.”

Daiyu nearly crumpled onto the empty chair the man had pointed out to her. The other men at the table barely paid her any heed, and she tipped her head back to stare up at the ceiling. She was beyond bone-weary. Every muscle in her body ached; not to mention the cuts and injuries littering her body like a patchwork quilt.

But the prospect of a warm meal and a warm bed to sleep in washed all her worries away. She would pay for a way out of here tomorrow morning, she decided as she thumbed the few silver coins in her pocket she had pilfered from Muyang’s bedroom earlier that day. Tonight, she’d sleep in her own room, without worrying about Muyang jumping into her bedroom. She wouldn’t have to deal with his dark, alluring gaze ever again.

When the innkeeper arrived with a cup of water and a steaming bowl of chicken, noodles, and wilted vegetables, Daiyu nearly melted in her seat. She downed the water and slurped the noodles like it would be her last meal. It was savory, salty, and garlicky, and even though she had grown accustomed to the decadent food in the royal palace for the past few weeks, this was the best meal she’d had in months.

It wasn’t until she was at the very ends of her bowl, with only a few tendrils of chewy, delicate noodles left and three soggypieces of broccoli that shereallynoticed the men in the room. She slowed down on chewing and lowered her chopsticks, suddenly aware that all of these men seemed to be a bittoobulky. She had seen hundreds of men at the fortress bundled in fur cloaks with armor underneath, and that was the same kind of cumbersomeness these men seemed to have. Like they were prepared for a battle.

It’s not a big deal, Daiyu. She swallowed down a mushy broccoli.They’re probably just men from His Majesty’s army.

But even as she thought that, it didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t they be in the fortress if that was the case? And why were they wearing cloaks that didn’t have the royal colors or insignia on them?

She reached for her cup of water, almost forgetting that she had drunk it already. Her hands shook and she tightened her hold on it. She could remember Atreus’s warning that there were many villages that were harboring rebel soldiers.

It wasn’t her problem.

Daiyu finished her food silently, a nervous sheen of sweat coating her hands and body. She didn’t want to be involved in whatever trouble these men were looking for. And if they found out who she was, they would do the same thing the bandits Atreus had saved her from had done—kidnap her and sell her to General Keung, one of the leaders of the rebel army.

She hadn’t noticed it before, probably because she was starved and scarfing down her food without a thought or care in the world, but some of the men were staring at her from time to time. Particularly the ones at her table.

Were they staring because she was a woman, or because they suspected who she was?

Uneasiness crept under her skin. Had she unknowingly fled from one prison just to end up in another? She folded her raw, peeling, and damaged hands on her lap and tried thinking of a plan. She could stay here for the night and leave in the morning like she had planned, and forget everything she had noticed today.Or she could leave now and not take the risk of being found out. It was still mid-afternoon, so she could probably find a ride to a different village.

“What happened to your hands?” one of the men, a thin, lanky middle-aged man with a wispy beard and beady, narrowed eyes said as he nodded at her.

Daiyu jumped in her seat and laced her fingers together tighter. “Excuse me?”

“Your hands.” The man pointed a chopstick at her lap and then speared a hunk of chicken in his bowl and chewed it right off the end of it. All the while, he didn’t take his eyes off her. The other five men at the table were now staring at her too, and she stiffened at the attention.

The hairs on Daiyu’s arms rose and she forced a smile. She could tell by his lack of table manners that he was rude and brutish—not the type of person she wanted to converse with—and she hoped he hadn’t noticed anything strange about her. “I scraped them earlier. Not a big deal.”

“Huh.” He took a swig of his rice wine and belched loudly. “How’d that happen?”

“It’s a long story.” She rose to her feet and bobbed her head at the other men. “Good day to you all.”

It was better that she got out of this place as fast as possible. Whatever plans she had for a warm bed were instantly scratched off her priority list. She needed to find a ride out of herenow.

She turned to leave, but the man suddenly grasped her wrist tightly. He smelled like sour wine and sweat, and Daiyu tried tugging away from him, but he held her firmly. His dark eyes narrowed. “Where’d you get that cloak?”

“Let go.” She snatched her hand away, her heart racing. The other men at the table were still staring, but now there seemed to be a renewed interest in her clothing, which they eyed wordlessly. Daiyu’s throat constricted and she looked between the lanky man, the others, and then down at her cloak. It wasn’t anything special—just a plain dark cloak with a deep-scarlet undercoat.

But all the color drained from her face as she noticed the metal dragon-shaped clasp that held the cloak together. Surely, they hadn’t noticed it?Shebarely noticed it until now.

“I found it.” Daiyu stepped back, glancing toward the exit and then at the room again. Nobody else was noticing the interaction, save for the people at her table. She fished for a coin in her pocket and placed it beside her empty bowl and cup. “Good day to you all.”

She spun around and made a beeline to the door. She wove between the seats, dodged a few drunk, swaying men, and exited the densely packed building. The frigid, wintry air slapped her the instant she stepped out, and she breathed in the frost clinging to the wind. This time, she welcomed the icy weather. It was less suffocating than inside.

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