Page 3 of The Nightblood Prince

Because in a way, they did.

?????????.If the emperor wanted a subject dead, the subject must die.

Regardless of status, name, or who their fathers were, all their lives were delicate porcelain to Siwang, suspended on silk cords. If Siwang wished, he could make any or all of us fall to a death of ten thousand shattered pieces. Including me—even if he would never admit it, even if the entire court thought otherwise.

I was the empress-to-be, but an empress still had to bend to the will of a man.

“The imperial hunt doesn’t officially start until tomorrow,” I interjected before this could escalate. “This is an outing of leisure, and a chance for us to scout out the terrain before we hunt the bigger prizes tomorrow.”

Though Siwang’s jaw ticked with slight annoyance, the smile that followed was easy, charming, as princes were taught to be. “May the best man kill the first Beiying tiger tomorrow and bask intrueglory.”

Yexue’s lips twitched, though it looked more like a sneer than a smirk. “May the best man,” he echoed.

My gaze shifted to the fallen stag, a small thing not yet old enough to grow a full set of antlers or shed all its baby fur. The shot hadgone straight through its eye to preserve the beautiful pelt. Crimson blood bloomed against the white snow, like winter roses. Like forlorn warnings.

Despite having sensed the stag before both princes, I hadn’t reached for my arrows. Because Father would have scolded me if I had.

Girls were not here to win prizes. Our job was to exist in docile and delicate beauty, while princes like Siwang basked in glory and admiration. Or so everyone had told me.

These visions need to stay secret,I reminded myself for the ten thousandth time.

Magic had not existed on our continent for hundreds of years. If the emperor ever found out that I possessed visions of the future, he would deem it a sign that the prophecy was true and that these visions were bestowed upon me so that I could help Siwang in his wars.

For in his eyes, I existed only to serve the ambitions of his son.

If I was really a fallen goddess, destined to bestow my husband with glory, why did I dream only of bloodshed and a capital in flames, never glory?

I cast a long look at the snowy mountains. Somewhere deep within this terrain hid Beiying tigers with their coveted snow-white fur and midnight-blue stripes that glistened in the light. They were twice as big as regular tigers and three times as strong. Legend had it that they were beasts created by the gods themselves during one of the heavenly wars and left forgotten in the mortal realm.

They were the most dangerous animals to roam these lands—other than humans.

If I could track one down, soak my hands with its blood, and offer its pelt to the emperor, I might be able to reclaim my destiny once and for all.

Or die trying.

“Let’s go!” Siwang called as he kicked his horse, Beifeng, into motion. “The day is still young, and I refuse to believe this is the only stag in this entire forest.”

I was about to follow when I felt something burning at the edge of my senses. Not a vision. I looked up and caught Lan Yexue staring at me.

I did not flinch from his gaze, nor did I look away like some chaste maiden who had never felt the fever of a man’s attention. Too many men looked at me, with and without the phoenix’s mark. Especially after my monthly bleedings came, after my chest began to swell and my hips filled out.

I knew lust. Saw it in the faces of both men and boys. How their eyes lingered a little too long when Siwang wasn’t around. How they licked their lips and hovered close like I was an object their hands itched to touch, or to take. Men like those made me want to cover every inch of my body and never step outside.

But if I did that, if I looked away and hid every time I caught someone staring, I would have to spend a lifetime hidden from sight, with only the the silk screens and lacquered walls of my pavilion for company.

Having men stare at me wasn’t a surprising occurrence. What surprised me was that Prince Yexue did not look away when I caught him. And what sparked behind those eyes was something other than lust, something sharper.

Curiosity?

I kicked my horse into a trot before Siwang caught this temporary moment.

4

My earliest memories were of the questions I’d asked my father.

What use is power, without freedom? What good is the life of an empress if she is a prisoner chained by rules and tradition and others’ opinions?

Questions my father didn’t know how to answer.

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