Page 114 of The Nightblood Prince

I paused. “You…are going to ask the emperor to let me govern these lands?”

“And keep an army of your own, so that you will never be powerless again.”

My heart stopped. “Is this your wish?”

“No. That’s the price of my kindness. I am not doing this for myself, Fei. Will you accept this as the price of peace?”

“I’ll do it.” It was the easiest decision of my life. “I’ll patrol these lands until my last breath.”

“Good.” His smile deepened until his dimples flashed and my heart leaped.

Despite everything that frightened me about him, there was kindness in Yexue.

“And I’ll keep the wish, decide what I want from you when I’m ready. Or…when you are ready to give me what I want.”

57

North of Yong’An, sunset stained the palace’s tiles the same red as a battlefield soaked in blood. Crimson lanterns illuminated the opulent halls where Siwang held the celebration of the year.

Wine poured like rushing streams into the mouths of drunken men, their hazy eyes trailing the dancing courtesans. Everybody cheered and toasted and swayed to music as the sky deepened toward midnight.

A lavish party for all the high-ranked soldiers and commanders who had fought at Siwang’s side. To celebrate those who had survived, and those who had died. Tonight marked the end of a blurred week of toasting the peace treaty that would make Lan and Rong allies for decades to come.

For his part in negotiating the treaty, Siwang was appointed grand general, a position that officially put him in charge of all the empire’s military forces.

Before the entire court, the emperor kissed Siwang’s head and declared his merits and sacrifices. “My brilliant son,” he hailed him, and everyone in the imperial halls cheered.

In the days afterward, all anyone could talk about was Siwang’s vigor, how he had tirelessly fought for Rong. No one spoke of Changchun, those who had died. Or how this war could have ended seasons ago if it hadn’t been for Siwang’s vanity.

No one spoke of me, Lifeng Fei, or even Li Fei.

This is for the better,I told myself. At least the emperor showed mercy by not beheading me for treason because I’d disguised myself as a man to serve in my father’s place.

To the emperor’s credit, he did reward me. At Siwang’s plea, the emperor agreed to let my father return to court as Siwang’s advisor, thus lifting my family’s exile.

But my banishment was still in place. Though it now applied only to Lifeng Fei, not Li Fei, or Little Li, as my soldiers continued to call me.

However, it still stung that my hard work was being claimed by Siwang. While the historians celebrated him, I would be forgotten because the emperor didn’t deem a girl worthy of their applause.

It doesn’t matter.Again, I told myself. Honor was nothing against the blissful years I had obtained for the people of our borderlands.

I hoped only that in time, their broken hearts would heal, and their hate for Lan would fade.

Or maybe not. In the corner, Caikun drank alone. A jar of wine at his lips, still clad in the bone-white robes of mourning, he softly wept with every gulp.

Across the land, thousands were crying for their fathers, brothers, sons, and grandsons.

I thought of Luyao’s child…a baby boy, just as he’d imagined, born a month before his death. Luyao never got to hear of the safe arrival of his first and only child, because Zhangxi had no way of getting the news to him.

I blinked away the tears that always seemed to prick at my eyes when I thought about these things.

A deep breath, then I emptied my cup.

That single drop of Yexue’s blood had helped Siwang make a complete recovery in a single moon. His hand was still injured. He could still write and hold a teacup, but the doctors warned him against ever holding a sword again.

Siwang didn’t let this deter him. If he couldn’t hold a sword with his right hand, then he would hold it with his left.

A general who can’t hold a sword will never keep the respect of his men.And Siwang would die before he lost the respect of his men.

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