“The general claimed her as his own,” I say, repeating what was taught to me in the history lessons. One of the many crimes the Prince of Dài was accused of. Forcing a political marriage for his own gain, driving a wedge between brothers—
“No!” he says sharply. “They grew close on the journey from Lǜzhou to Jia, and she refused to have another. The dowager empress acquiesced, in time … but history will always remember my father as the one who stole another’s intended.”
I am beginning to understand that history is never so simple. Not the story of my parents, not the story of Kang’s parents, or the two of us … I quickly bury the thought, knowing it is something dangerous, something I do not dare to imagine.
I realize I can turn this into an opportunity to find out more of what the princess has asked me to uncover, even as the guilt gnaws at me in turn. “Do you hate him? The emperor?”
“I … I don’t know,” he says hesitantly. “He did everything in his power to destroy my family, but he was also a capable ruler in some aspects. He could have executed us all, but instead he sent us into exile, against the recommendations of his own advisers.”
I’m not sure I would have been able to say something so reasonable about someone who threatened the people I love.
“I wanted to meet him and see for myself the type of man my uncle was after all these years.” He shakes his head. “Now I will never get the chance.”
“The people at court … the ones you said were still loyal to your father…” I venture forth with more questions. “Did they tell you how the emperor died?”
Kang’s head swerves back to look at me, his gaze suddenly sharp. “Why does it matter?”
Careful, Ning …
“There have been rumors he was poisoned by the Shadow.”
He waits expectantly, and I decide to tell him, in the hopes it will chase away his obvious suspicion. “My mother was one of the victims of the poisoned tea bricks,” I explain. “That is why I am here. Why I need to win the favor of the princess.”
He considers this, frowning deeply. Finally he says, “My sympathies. I know the sharpness of that pain. My birth mother passed giving birth to me. My birth father was a commander with the K?iláng battalion, who died on the battlefield. My adopted mother took me in, ensured that I knew I was wanted. Protected me even when there were those in her own household who were offended at my presence. When I lost her … a part of me died as well.”
He draws me closer again, this time offering only an embrace for warmth and comfort. I rest my head on his shoulder, even though I know I shouldn’t be grateful for this fleeting moment.
“But…，” he says after a pause. “You say your mother’s death is related to the favor you want to ask of the princess. Are you looking for vengeance?”
“I would ask for the head of the Shadow if I could,” I snap, and the vehemence in my voice reminds me of the anger that continues to simmer under the surface. I close my eyes and turn my face away. He has seen too much of my frustrations and my failures.
To his credit, Kang does not react to my outburst. He only plays with my hair, running the strands through his fingers.
“Did you know,” he says, his breath stirring my hair, “the women of the Emerald Isles are a fierce lot? They know how to fish with a spear and dive for pearls as well as the men. They are just as adept at spear-fighting. I doubt my father could have forced my mother into anything. It was said she challenged him to a duel for her hand in marriage.”
“Really?” I’m grateful he’s sharing a part of himself, offering a distraction from my sadness. I imagine a proud woman, one who is able to bear arms to defend her homeland from invaders. Who willingly uprooted her life to marry a man she had never met, but who found another instead. “She dared to challenge the general to combat?”
Laughter makes his shoulders shake. “She challenged him to see who could stay underwater the longest. He lost.”
I laugh, too. “I think she would have gotten along with my mother.”
“I know she would have.” He waits a breath before saying, “If she was anything like you.”
“Kang…” I straighten again, sitting in front of him so I can see his face. “I need you to tell me the truth. You once mentioned that the princess had a stone that can heal all illnesses … is there really such a thing?”
When he doesn’t reply, I grab hold of his hands, so he can feel for himself, through the connection that quivers there between us. A pressure builds in my head, like water against a dam. All my hopes, balanced precariously on the answer.