Page 19 of Dynasty of the Wicked

Zhi Ruo was broughtinto a tent close to the center of the camp. Two soldiers flanked her, both gripping her tightly by the biceps. When they pushed through the flaps of the tent, they flung her to the floor like she was dirt. Her knees slammed to the frozen floor and she instantly pressed her numb fingers to her chest to keep herself dignified.

She could make out the patchwork of snow covering the tented roof; it sent splotchy shadows over the room, creating an even more ominous atmosphere. At one end of the tent was a thick mattress with fur blankets haphazardly tossed over it, and on the other side was a table with stacks of paper neatly covering the entire surface.

A man slowly rose to his feet. Brilliant blue eyes peered back at her. The first thing she noticed about the general was that he was tall—not as tall as Feng Mian, but still tall enough to garner attention. If he wasn’t wearing such a nasty smirk on his face, he might have even been handsome. His salt and peppered hair was cropped close to his head, and he wore his uniform fitted closely to his lean body. He was easily twice her age, and yet he moved smoothly and lithely, like someone much younger.

“Princess,” he said with a twist of his thin lips. “I was going to meet you later tonight, but I see you’ve made quite the entrance.” His gaze flicked down to her tattered dress and thenat the other two soldiers. “Was that you out there? Causing all that commotion?”

“It was,” one of the soldiers said when she didn’t reply, and then explained the whole situation—how she and Feng Mian had tried to escape, and how they had found several dead soldiers in the dungeons and outside too.

The general’s face darkened, his lined mouth pursing together in clear displeasure. When they finished explaining the whole situation, he waved them away. “I understand. You may leave.”

Zhi Ruo hugged the dress closer to her body, hating the way the man leered down at her. Without Feng Mian’s sword and lethal presence, she felt stripped of more than just her clothes. The kind of vulnerability that made her want to shrink within herself. The man’s half-lidded stare bored into her, as if he was memorizing every sliver of exposed flesh.

It made her skin crawl.

“My name is General Aemilius Wyer,” the man said with a full smile that showed his yellowing teeth. “You may call me Wyer. And you are Princess Ying Yue, yes?”

A shock jolted down her spine. Whoever sold her to these Kadians must not have told them her true identity. She vaguely remembered one of the conversations between the assassins, how disappointed they were that they had captured her instead of her perfect sister. How Ying Yue was worth more than Zhi Ruo.

This one’s pretty enough. How will the Kadians know the difference?

She shivered again, and Wyer’s smile grew, mistaking her fear for something else. “You must be terribly freezing in those thin clothes. Here.” He shrugged off the heavy navy-blue cloak resting on his shoulders, rounded his desk, and stopped a foot away from her.

Zhi Ruo stared at the cloak; it was thick, lined with sheepskin, and had a fur collar. It looked warm, and her chilled body yearned for the warmth it no doubt provided. She wanted to accept it, but something held her back—pride, or caution, she wasn’t sure.

“I do not wear the furs of peasants,” she spat with as much vitriol as she could muster, “much less those of my enemies.”

His smile became sharp. “Ah, so you speak the Kadian tongue? I was beginning to think you didn’t understand a word I was saying.”

“My father will have your head.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard much about you,” he continued, folding the cloak over the crook of his arm and staring down at her with cold, beady eyes. “The beautiful daughter of the empire. The apple of his eye. The one who could do no wrong.” His gaze flickered over the length of her body, where it lingered on her heavy breasts. “You are very, very different than what I imagined. I thought Huo women were slight in every way?”

She gritted her teeth together, hating that she was exposed in such a manner to him. “It would be better for you to release me than to feel the wrath of my father’s armies.”

“Your father has not sent word about you,” Wyer murmured. “Soon, he might. We shall see.”

“My father?—”

“Wear the cloak.” Wyer dumped it on her lap. “I would rather my bride not freeze to death.”

Her shoulders tensed as the words registered to her brain.Bride?

She was a prisoner, not … a bride for him.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest at the confusion playing on her face. He seemed delighted by her expression as he knelt down until he was eye-level with her. “Yes, mybride. I wish to marry you and bear many great heirs for this empire. Of course,it would be an extension of Kadios. Isn’t it lovely? You will be the queen of these lands and I your king, and the Kadian emperor will overrule us all. As far as I’m aware, Huo princesses are not allowed to ascend to the throne, so isn’t this like a dream come true?”

She stared at him dumbly. What was he saying? There was no way he meant any of those words.

She wanted to throw her head back and laugh at how ridiculous it all sounded. He wanted to conquer the Huo empire and appointhimselfas the monarch?

“Well, the Huoempiremight have a concept of emperor and empress, while the Kadiankingdomfollows a king and queen, but once we take over these lands, I suppose we will become a Kadian empire, then, yes? So it would be more appropriate, I suppose, to be known as the lord and lady of these lands, but I think king and queen is still appropriate,” he rambled, his hands moving up and down with an excited gleam in his wild eyes. He was dreaming it all up, she realized with disgust. His rise to power. His claim to her people. His claim onher.

“—there are several parts of the empire that I would love to change?—”

“Have you lost your mind?” Zhi Ruo’s body trembled with unrelenting rage. This man, this Kadian, thought he could own her? Thought he could take all of their lands? The idea filled her with so much pure abhorrence and fury that she wanted to rake her nails across his face. “You will never have my father’s empire.”

If she thought that would deter Wyer, she was wrong, because his grin remained tacked in place. If anything, a fire seemed to be lit within him. “We will see about that.”

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