Page 62 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“But you know me now! You knew me when we first met in the dungeons! You knew me when we—” When he married her, kissed her, made love with her. He knew that his leader was planning her demise. He knew that she was never supposed to be a part of a future that he was fighting for. At least not as she was. “Was it all a lie?”

She hadn’t meant to sob, but it ripped from her throat and her face crumpled. Pressure built in the back of her eyes. Was he just using her to free himself from the Kadians? Did he sleep with her just because it had been a while since he had been with anyone? Was he planning something sinister with her?

“No,no.”

“No to what? That you didn’t know it was me, or that it was all a lie?” Her voice was shrill when she spoke.

“Shh, not so loud?—”

“Which is it?”

“Princess … Not now, come on.”

“No.” She grabbed the front of his tunic, shaking him slightly. “Tell me!”

He pushed her hands off roughly, his silver eyes narrowing. “Yes, I knew. I knew who you were and that Chanming was planning on killing you all. I even knew that whatever assassins Chanming had hired had failed and gotten greedy when they decided to sell you to the Kadians. I knew they’d fucked up when you were alive.”

Zhi Ruo’s hands went slack as they dropped down on her lap. She stared at him, unblinking, as those words registered to her. She had never felt such a sharp, terrible betrayal. It bit into her very core, twisting like a cold, serrated knife. Tears streamed down her face. “You … knew?”

“Yes, I knew,” he snarled. “But that doesn’t mean that it wasn’treal.”

“Why should I believe you?” she said, another ugly sob wrenching from deep within her. “You never even told me you loved me, so why should I believe that you?—”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. Her shoulders hunched together and she pressed her palms over her stinging eyes. She wanted to scream loudly, to hit him, to entice some sort of reaction out of him, but she couldn’t bring herself to even look at him. Her heart was breaking; she could feel the shards shattering within her chest, poking at her flesh and slicing through.

“Prin—” Feng Mian started, voice softening, when he suddenly lifted his chin, angling his head toward the entrance. A scowl formed on his face and he rose to his feet. “Someone is coming.”

Zhi Ruo couldn’t stop crying even if she wanted to. She didn’t know what to feel anymore. Did he even care for her? Or was he just stringing her along so he could present her to Li Chanming? He had clearly used her to escape; she should have known something was off when he first offered to marry her for hismagic. He was her enemy, him and Li Chanming and everyone in this camp.

“Is everything all right?” a smooth, velvety voice asked.

She stiffened, raising her tear-stained face to meet the black gaze of the False Emperor. He wore a polite smile, though his eyebrows were pulled together in concern. Unlike Father, he seemed to smile more often, but he had something in him that reminded her of Father—that cutting, manipulative gleam in his eyes. He had ordered her and her siblings to die. She remembered a knife buried in Wanqing’s forehead. Father’s concubine’s head rolling on the polished floors. The assassins approaching her with shiny, blood-slickened daggers.

A shudder ran through her body.

“Everything’s fine,” Feng Mian said, voice clipped.

Chanming raised his brows. “It doesn’t look fine to me. Yourwifeis crying and you’re sitting there looking dumb.” When Feng Mian didn’t say anything, he continued, “Lanying told me all about it. That you have awife.” He said it like it was a joke, and maybe it was, because she had no idea who Feng Mian was anymore.

“Yes, so?”

“I thought I’d introduce myself.” Another diplomatic smile, but it looked like he was trying not to burst into laughter. It sickened her.

“No need. She knows who the hell you are.” Feng Mian’s frown deepened. “Can you leave us?”

“My name is Li Chanming,” he said, ignoring Feng Mian and lowering his head in respect, eyes twinkling. “I’m terribly sorry if my brute of a friend here made you cry. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call for me or anyone here.”

He almost sounded genuine, but Zhi Ruo had lived in a vicious court. Had grown up in it, and had watched her cruel siblings play as diplomats. She could spot the honeyed lies on histongue. If he knew who she really was, she was sure he’d slice her throat with that dagger strapped to his waist.

“Thank you,” she croaked, swiping her damp cheeks with her hands. She averted her gaze, an old habit given how unnervingly similar he looked to Father. She also didn’t want him to stare too long at her and try to find similarities in their appearances. Even though they looked nothing alike, they were siblings, after all.

“Your name, sweet lady?”

Feng Mian stiffened. “Chanming?—”

“Shush, you.” He offered her another dimpled smile. “My lady?”

“Zhi—” Her panic flared and she screwed her mouth shut.

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