Page 88 of Empire's Curse

She turned, only to find him staring at her. Her cheeks warmed and she quickly averted her gaze, choosing to stare at the crescent moon. “I meant the city.”

“And I meant what I meant.” He grasped a stray strand of hair that had come undone from her quick updo and rubbed the lock between his fingers. Daiyu could only watch, transfixed, before he released it. The wind carried it over her face, and before she could tuck it behind her ear, he took hold of it again. “You have a beauty like none I’ve seen before.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Daiyu couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped from her.

Muyang tilted his head, one dark brow rising. “Why?”

“You’re …” She turned her head to stare ahead, and her hair slipped from his fingers, joining the rest of her unruly hairstyle. She resisted the urge to push her hair into place. “You’re the emperor. You’ve likely seen thousands of beautiful women throughout this entire royal selection. I’ve been told I’m beautiful, from time to time, but I can never compare or compete with others who’ve spent years perfecting their appearance.”

“I didn’t think you had low self-confidence.”

“I don’t—” She laughed again, this time more awkwardly than before. Tightening her hold on the intricate metal railing, she fitted her fingers against the grooves of the serpent engraving curling over it. “I’m still not accustomed to life here.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful.” He inched closer to her, closing the distance between them. “I have seen many beautiful women, that’s true, but none have stoked my interest like you have, Daiyu.”

Until you find another who will. She didn’t say the uneasywords aloud. There was no real reason for him to be interested in her like he was, and it was only a matter of time before he found another just as beautiful, just as quirky, and just as fiery. And then he would take her as his wife, and then another, and another. It was just the way romance with an emperor worked.

She steeled her heart, tamping down her prior giddiness at being so near him. There was only heartbreak involved in being in love with a man like him, and she planned to guard her heart until the bitter end. “Your Majesty, what is it that you see in me? Someone naïve who has never left her farm? Who wishes for freedom? Who is inexperienced? Do you enjoy the adventure of chasing a maiden whose heart you must win?”

A flash of surprise passed over his face and Muyang watched her with a strange expression—maybe he didn’t expect her to speak so brazenly. “Daiyu—” he began.

“Your Majesty,” she interrupted, staring at him levelly. “I’m not as innocent and naïve to love as you may think I am. I understand you might find it thrilling to chase down someone who resists you so much, but my heart is guarded. I have loved before, and all it caused me was heartbreak. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Why are you telling me this?”

She wasn’t even sure. She was pushing him away, she could tell that much, but she couldn’t pinpointwhy. And why now, when he just returned to her? She should have been excited to be here with him, and she should have given herself into the moment, allowed him to show her the beautiful scenery and perhaps even flirt with her. But there was an uneasiness in her chest that wanted him far away from her—particularly from her heart.

She knew what it felt like to have her heart ripped from her chest. To have it broken into tiny shards that made it irreparable to put the pieces back together. And she knew that if she fell in love with Drakkon Muyang, her heart would forever bleed as he took on more and more women into his circle.

But she needed him, a small voice squeaked in the back of her mind. She needed him for stability and wealth for her family. For the prestige and status and safety he offered.

“Your Majesty, I just want you to know that … that I can’t give my heart to you. I feel that it would be disingenuous of me to marry you without you realizing that,” she whispered, hoping for her words to disappear into the night. She couldn’t meet his gaze as she spoke, her voice dropping. “I have loved another for many years and I lost him four years ago. My heart seems to be buried with him in his grave.”

She could feel him boring holes into her with his eyes alone. “How did he die?”

“On the battlefield.” She pursed her lips together. The dull aching that usually accompanied her when she thought of Heng was gone, and in its place, there was only brief sadness—like a passing wind that gently reminded her of what used to be. “He was an imperial soldier.”

“Ah.” Muyang’s voice flattened. “So he faced my armies.”

“He did.”

“And died.”

She nodded, finally looking over at him. He didn’t appear furious, or frustrated, or irritated like she thought he would be.

“Is that why you hate me so much? Because I stole the love of your life from you?”

Her mouth dried up and she couldn’t rip her gaze from his. The space between them seemed to stretch farther and farther, even though they were so near. So close to one another that she could have touched his cheek if she wanted to—and she had an inkling of an idea that he would have let her. Her lower lip trembled and she hated the tightness of her chest, the closing of her throat. As if her whole body was resisting her. “I don’t …” She could barely form the words. “I don’t hate you and that’s …”That’s what makes this so much harder.

It would have been so easy to hate him. So easy to see him as nothing more than a wicked, evil tyrant. But she knew, over thesepast few months with him, that he wasn’t as cruel as she believed him to be. A villain in his own right, but not to her.

“Daiyu,” he murmured, grazing her cheek with the back of his knuckle. A shiver ran down her spine, and he studied her face seriously, his brows drawn together and his voice velvety smooth. “I never expected to be your first love. I would never dream of having such a lofty position in your heart. I hate that I could never be there for you when you needed it. And as much as I would love to be the first man to take your heart, I knew that would never be the case. But I am an emperor. A king. A man who takes what he wants, and who will stop at nothing to grasp what he covets. Daiyu, I do intend to be the last one to take your heart, and I don’t plan to let it go until the ends of time. Do you understand me?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out, her tongue too tangled to speak properly. There was a fluttering in the pit of her stomach that reminded her too much of a cage of butterflies. He was planning on stealing her heart, whether she wanted him to or not. His intention was clear and although she should have laughed at him and told him it was futile, she could do no such thing.

Her cheeks flushed with color and she stammered, “Y-You’re mistaken if you think it will be easy. I have no plans to give myself to you, Your Majesty.”

“I never expected it to be easy.”

---