Page 64 of Empire's Curse

She didn’t say the word out loud in case she came across as rude, but when he didn’t answer, she intensified her efforts to free herself from under him. After much struggling, cursing, and grunting, Daiyu somehow managed to pry herself free and squirm out from beneath his weight. Once free, she pushed and pulled him until he was lying on his back.

“You truly are a giant of a man,” she said through exasperated gasps, falling back onto her bottom. In the afternoon sunlight—mostly overcast by the crepuscular sky—he appeared as pallid and colorless as his surroundings. The only dash of color on him, except for his inky hair and clothes, and the drying blood of hisenemies on his face, was the stain of vermillion on the snow where his shoulder had been.

He had healed her, but by the looks of his own injuries, he hadn’t bothered to extend the same magic to himself. He was puzzling in many ways, and she didn’t know if she wanted to delve deeper into what that meant for her and her changing perception of him. Sometimes she felt like he wasn’t so bad—like now—but other times …

Daiyu shoved those thoughts aside and crawled over to him. She would have to think about her messy feelings later. Right now, he needed her.

“Are you able to hear me?” She touched his injured shoulder and cringed at the sticky residue left behind on her fingers. Why had he pulled the dagger out of his shoulder? Wasn’t that risky since the blade would stave the bleeding? Or was she naïve in thinking that? Had the blade been poisoned?

Daiyu looked around herself for something to clot the bleeding, but other than the corpses littering the woods, she didn’t find anything useful. Stifling a curse of her own, she went to one of the less disturbing, twisted bodies and pried the man’s sword from his cold, dead fingers. She sawed off sections of the rebel soldier’s cloak and went back to Muyang. It didn’t take her long to pad his injury with the cloth. She would have been able to do a better job if she could strip his clothes, disinfect the injury, and then bandage him, but seeing as how he was still the emperor, she figured undressing him might have been pushing her luck.

She sat beside him, unsure of what to do. Her mind was a maelstrom of wildness. Was he dying? Was he poisoned? She couldn’t rush back to the village for a healer because the place was already chock-full of rebel soldiers who would happily kill Muyang the instant they saw him. Could she make it back to the fortress while lugging him around? What would happen once the sun set? Surely, imperial soldiers would come looking for Muyang once they realized he wasn’t at the fortress—should she wait for them?

Daiyu tinkered with the now-colorless beaded bracelet on her wrist. The jade color had vanished soon after she had used the magicked item, and now it appeared like a cheap, glass beaded trinket.

“Feiyu, can you hear me?” she whispered into the piece of jewelry. She gave a quick side glance to Muyang, who hadn’t moved in the past hour. “I could really use your help right about now.”

She waited for a response, but nothing came.

“Feiyu?”

Still nothing.

Daiyu cursed and almost flung the bracelet across the woods, but thought better of it at the last second. She rubbed the smooth beads absentmindedly and looked between Muyang’s unconscious state, the gloomy sky that foretold either snow or rain, and then the corpses. She wanted nothing more than to leave this place in the woods—where so much death and chaos had occurred—but she wasn’t too fond of the idea of dragging Muyang through snow, branches, and who-knew-what.

“Wake up.Please.” She patted Muyang’s cold cheek. Under normal circumstances, she could be executed for touching the emperor without permission. She could imagine Muyang’s court, and all the gossipy women in the Lotus wing, gasping at how inappropriate all of this was. She wondered what they would think of her behavior thus far. It was scandalous, for sure, and she deliberated if a noblewoman would have acted the same way.

She stared down at the harsh planes of Muyang’s sculpted jaw, his long lashes, and his soft mouth. For a moment, she wanted to run her fingers through his silken hair—just because—and she wanted to touch those lips with her fingers. A blush spread over her face the more she studied him, and she finally had to rip her gaze away to stop her creeping. He truly was too beautiful to be an evil emperor.

“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, but I reckon I’d be dead without you so … I suppose I should thank you?” Daiyu murmured, pulling her legs to her chest and hugging herself tightly. A light flurry of snow danced from the sky and powdered his leathered, scaly armor. “Well, to be fair, if you hadn’t chosen me to be your bride, I wouldn’t be in this mess, so I suppose I don’thaveto thank you.”

She sighed and peered up at the sky. She would probably have to make a decision soon: leave him behind to search for help, or drag him all the way to the fortress? Surely, the rebel soldiers would come here looking for their missing brethren, so she doubted they could stay here for too long.

“Aren’t you supposed to be all powerful? I remember you doing all sorts of magic back at the fortress, so why are you unconscious now?” She nudged his uninjured shoulder with the tip of her worn-out shoes. Still, he didn’t budge. “Makes me wonder if you really are just human like me. I thought you were part demon … and part dragon.”

Daiyu dusted off the flecks of snow on her cloak and exhaled deeply, her breath misty. The temperature was continuing to drop, and it would probably only get colder once the sun set.

A groan piqued her attention and she whipped her head in his direction. Muyang’s lips twitched and he winced, his eyes still closed. She sucked in her breath and inched closer to him. Grabbing a hold of his shoulder, she shook it slightly.

“Your Majesty! Are you awake?”

He mumbled something incoherent, and Daiyu shook him harder. She needed him awake so he could warp them out of this mess. Or if he couldn’t manage that, at least walk himself back to the fortress.

“Your Majesty?”

Muyang grumbled louder, his eyes flying open. Even injured and half-conscious, he had a scowl on his face. Upon seeing her, he sighed, his displeasure rumbling over his chest. “What happened?”

“You fell unconscious.” Daiyu retracted her hand and wrung them together. “I didn’t know what to do, so I was just waitingfor you to either wake up, or for your soldiers to come here and save us. Looking back, I probably should have just dragged us farther away from this place, right? Maybe so the rebel soldiers don’t follow us here? But I didn’t think I’d be able to drag your body since you’re so heavy—” She realized she was rambling and clamped her mouth shut.

He watched her neutrally and pushed himself into a sitting position. He hissed back a curse and nearly fell back onto the ground. Daiyu rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders, helping him sit up.

“Are you well?” she asked, aware that she was too close to him—his face was inches away from hers. If she leaned any closer, she’d be pressed up against him. But the thought alone made her face flush with color—why was she thinking of that when he was injured? That should have been the last thing on her mind. “You should have healed your shoulder.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to heal you if I did that.” He ran one hand over his face and cringed again. “How long have I been out?”

“Maybe an hour?”

“An hour …” Muyang pursed his lips together and stared off at the six bodies, and then up at the skyline. “We should head back to the fort.”

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