Page 59 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“W-What?”

The physician fiddled with his fingers, clearly uncomfortable with the line of conversation, while Lanying stared at Feng Mian with her mouth hanging ajar. Finally, she lurched to her feet and stomped over to the entrance of the tent.

“You’re as foulmouthed as ever. I feel sorry for even worrying about you,” she seethed, before disappearing off.

A moment of silence followed the wake of her exit. The physician cleared his throat and smoothed his hands over his knees. “May I check your injuries, Lord Zheng?”

“Check her first.” Feng Mian waved to Zhi Ruo. The blood on his shoulder had already dried to some degree, dark scarlet blooming over the injury, and there were spots of red caking his brilliant hair, his cheeks, and his neck. The black curse mark continued to pulse beneath his flesh; it was outlined on his throat vividly now.

“Are you injured, dear?” he asked her, his gaze raking over her soiled, bloodied, damp clothes.

She tried flexing her fingers but found she could barely move her right hand, dull pain shooting up the stiff limb. A grimace ran over her body as she remembered the ghoul’s gangly fingers slicing through the flesh of her shoulder—it had barely grazed her, and yet her whole arm was numb, tingling, and tender.

“My right arm,” she said hoarsely, her throat dry. “I can’t really move it. I was also attacked by some sort of magic …”

The physician approached her, pausing. “Is it all right if I look?”

She hesitated. She had her royal tattoo on her left shoulder, and if he saw that, he would know for sure that she was a royal. How would she hide it from him?

“Physician Wu.” Feng Mian’s voice was low, his expression pulled taut. “I need your word that you will not tell a soul what you see here.”

The old man wove his fingers together, gaze flicking between the two of them. “Lord Zheng, is something the matter?”

“I need your word.”

“Lord Zheng.” Physician Wu’s brushy eyebrows pulled together quizzically, and Zhi Ruo could tell he was offended by the lack of trust Feng Mian had in him, but he pushed that hurt aside and nodded slowly. “All right, all right. You have my word.”

Feng Mian held his hand out, black wisps of shadows curling above his fingertips like smoke. “Your word, then? That you will never utter or try to reveal our secret here?”

Physician Wu stared at his outstretched hand. “Lord Zheng, is it necessary to bind me to an oath?”

“It is.”

“All right.” He reluctantly pressed his palm against Feng Mian’s, and a twirl of smoke-like blackness crawled up his skin, twirling above his heart and then disappearing into his mouth. The older man sputtered like he had tasted something foul, before wiping his lips.

Feng Mian rose to his feet and yanked the curtains to section her bed off from the rest of the tent. Although nobody was here but them, it was probably better to make sure nobody could intrude and see something they shouldn’t.

“Dear, please undress so I may see your wounds,” he said, glancing over at Feng Mian. “It is probably best that you leave, Lord Zheng. I do not want to dishonor the lady by having you present while she is disrobed.”

“I’m blind.” He lifted an eyebrow and Zhi Ruo resisted the urge to grin. She might have even laughed, but she found that she was too nauseous, confused, and shocked to do anything but stare and grin.

“I’m aware.” The physician nodded. “But it is still improper.”

“But—” Feng Mian’s attention drew to her and a slow smile curved his lips. “She is my wife and, I assure you, I know her body better than anyone else. So I will stay.”

Physician Wu blinked, surprised, before nodding. “Ah, very well. Then you shall stay, so long as the lady is all right with that?”

“I am,” Zhi Ruo said, a blush spreading over her face. It was strange to have Feng Mian introduce her as hiswifeto all of these people. It made it all the more real that they were a couple.Because when they were alone, in the prison cell, in the cabin, or slogging through thick snow, it was easy to feel that they were a couple in those moments, but not outside of that. Because the outside world knew nothing of their marriage—but now, it wasn’t a secret.

She eased off the sleeve of her dress, wincing as numbing pain shot through her shoulder and arms, making her fingers jerk reflexively. Breathing out deeply, she slipped the dress off until it hung down to her waist. Her hands went to her breasts, covering as much as she could, before she dared spare a glance at the old man.

His eyes were wide and trained on the royal tattoo on her shoulder. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, but no words came out. The white-washed curtains behind him seemed to blend in with his suddenly pallid complexion.

“You … Well.” He nodded slowly, rubbing his clammy hands on his thighs. “I can see why you wanted to keep it hidden.”

Normally, all Huo citizens would be thrilled to have a royal in their presence, but these people … these people didn’t seem to care. In fact, she was in danger here.

Feng Mian’s posture remained stiff and he waved at Zhi Ruo. “The examination?”

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