Page 52 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“He didn’t do it himself, of course. He had someone to do it to me, in front of … his entire court.”

Nausea curdled her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut. The words streamed out of her distantly, like she wasn’t the one saying them. Like it was a story that didn’t belong to her.

“Six years ago, Father was having a party for Ying Yue. It was a huge celebration, as it is every year. She gave me some jewelry to wear in the pretense of wanting me to look like a princess alongside her. I … I was so very stupid, Feng Mian. I knew Ying Yue was a snake, and I knew she didn’t care for me at all, but a part of me wanted to be accepted by her. A part of me wanted to believe that she truly was turning another leaf and that maybe … just maybe, everyone could love me too. Maybe if I dressed nicely, or had nice jewelry, they would think I was just like her.

“But that’s not what happened. I wore the jewelry she gave me and, and it wasstunning. Shiny gold, with clusters of jade along the headpiece, and matching hairpins. I looked beautiful, for once. And I felt it too. And … And then I arrived at the party, and everyone was staring at me. I thought that this is what it must feel like being the center of attention, feeling like Ying Yue. But I had no idea that everyone was … was waiting.”

Her lower lip trembled and she shivered. She was in that moment once again. Standing in Father’s hall, dressed in those heavy jewels, smiling at the guests. She still remembered their faces. Horrified, shocked, uneasy. She had mistaken it all for admiration and confusion over her makeover; she had thought they were surprised at how beautiful she could also look.

“Empress Fung walked over to me and slapped me,” Zhi Ruo said numbly. She tried to distract herself by staring into the fire, watching the flames curl and sputter, but her mind wasn’t here. It was there—in Father’s hall. “And then she started screaming at me, hitting me, kicking me, lashing out at me. I didn’t know what was happening. Nobody tried to stop her, theyjust watched. And then she started pulling my hair, yanking the jewelry out, and screamed that I was a thief.”

Ying Yue’s face flashed in her mind. The way she had giggled behind her hand-fan, how she had turned to her friends and pointed at her, all of them laughing.

“Apparently, it all belonged to the empress. Ying Yue had stolen them and gifted them to me, only for me to … make a fool out of myself. Everyone started calling me a thief, and Father … Father was so furious. I told them that Ying Yue had given the jewelry to me, but nobody believed me. They thought I was trying to push the blame onto someone innocent. And then Ying Yue started crying, and everyone was worried abouther. Nobody cared—”Nobody cared about me. That was her life. She continued, “Father ordered his men to strip me down to my waist and?—”

She pressed her palms to her eyes, her breaths coming through serrated lungs. She couldn’t even feel Feng Mian’s arms go around her, not even when he pulled her into his lap and tucked her head against his chest. All she could hear and feel was the whip crackling the air and snapping over her flesh. The taste of her salty tears and snot washing over every part of her face. The humiliation was burned into her that night; she could remember their stares. The way the guards had laughed at her when they dragged her back to her room, her blood smearing against the polished floors. How the concubines had crinkled their noses at her. How Father’s cruel, black eyes had peered down at her like she was filth.

“Everyone started calling mewickedfrom that moment on. A liar and a thief. The worst of the worst,” she finished, hating the way her voice shook. “Father was too disgusted to look at me for months afterwards. He told me that … that if I wasn’t his blood, that he would have had me killed, and that I should begratefulthat this was the only punishment I was receiving.”

She felt nauseous all over again, her body remembering the pain; she wasn’t sure what had been worse. The actual pain itself, the humiliation of being stripped down and tortured in front of Father’s court, or that fact that nobody had believed her. She continued to tremble, unable to shake the images from her mind.

Feng Mian cupped her cheeks with both hands, swiping the tears with his thumbs in slow motions. “Princess, do you plan to do anything?”

For a moment, confusion played over her face. Do something? She had just told him her most haunting memory, and he wanted her to do something? Do what? If she’d had the power to do something, then she would have done it a long time ago. She didn’t have a choice when it came to any of this. She wasn’t more powerful than Father, or Empress Fung, or Lady Ning, or Ying Yue, or anyone else in Father’s court.

“Feng Mian.” She resisted the urge to shove his hands away and curl into a ball. “What can I do against my father? Nothing, truly.”

“No, you can. Remember—you’re powerful.”

Her forehead crinkled. “No, I’m not?—”

“You are.” He held her face tighter, peering down at her like he could actually see her. “You arepowerful.”

A shiver ran down her spine and she averted her gaze. It was treason to even think about being more powerful than the emperor; if Father heard about this … She didn’t want to think about what he would do with her. He already barely tolerated her presence. “I … I can’t.”

“You can.” Feng Mian released her face and grasped a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers slowly. He brought it to his mouth and kissed it, silver eyes darkening with need. “I witnessed a glimpse of it at the Kadian camp. You unleashed somuch power and killed all those people. I don’t think you realize how much raw energy it takes to do that.”

She shifted on his lap; the fire continued to sputter and flicker, and yet it did nothing to warm her chilled body. The blanket felt thin and flimsy all of a sudden, and she quickly pulled it up over her chest. “It’s only because I had your power,” she whispered. It was already taboo enough that she was wielding magic—something no woman was allowed to do—but hearing this … It was too much. She could already imagine what Wanqing would say to her, a sneer on her brother’s face.

You will always be a weak, pathetic thing.

She wasn’t sure if it was Wanqing’s voice or her own that said that to her, echoing louder and louder.

But Wanqing was dead, she reminded herself. With a dagger buried between his brows.

“My magic helped you, yes, but you could only have achieved that if you were already blessed with power. You could achieve what I could never.” Feng Mian tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles grazing her jawline. “My power costs me my life, because I lack talent. My body is not suited for magic. I cannot spread destruction without destroying myself, but you … your body is meant to hold power. You can unleash so much darkness into this world, Zhi Ruo.”

She tried to move away from him, uneasy with the turn of their conversation, but he pulled her closer to him. Their foreheads touched, and she was aware of his hands splayed on her bare hips.

“If you don’t kill them, I will,” he murmured, warm breath fanning over her face. “Each and every one who caused you pain—I will make them beg for mercy.”

“You—” Her mouth trembled. “You cannot speak of my father that way. He could have you killed for that. It’s—it’streason.” Fear and panic twisted her belly and she quicklyglanced around the room, as if Father could hear them this far away.

“I don’t care,” he snarled, eyes glowing like the sharpened edge of a silver blade. “Your father. Your sister. The entire court. I will murder them all.”

“Feng Mian.” She placed her hands on his chest, the blanket slipping between them both. She shivered as a blast of howling wind sent a shudder over the door, the frigid air seeping through the cracks. “Please … don’t talk like that.”

He shifted her on his lap and pressed his soft mouth on her neck, breathing in her scent. “I will kill anyone who dares to hurt you, Princess.”

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