Shocked gasps burst from the courtiers, who fell silent when the Celestial Empress pointed a finger at me.
“You have grossly overstepped yourself,” she spat, her teeth bone-white against those crimson lips. “Somehow, with your conniving ways, you’ve tricked my son into speaking for you. But you’re a traitor and should be punished as such. Did you come back because you’ve been discarded? Played false by your lover? Hoping to worm your way back into my son’s good graces?”
Such vile words, they tore away the last shreds of my restraint. Doubly cruel because I had been played false, just not the way she envisaged.
I uncoiled my legs, rising to my feet. A grievous breach in etiquette, but it was nothing to the words that sprang from me now. “I’m no traitor. I fulfilled the task, retrieving the dragons’ pearls—then risked my life to steal them back again. I did as you commanded, and all I ask now is for you to free my mother as was promised, as honor dictates.”
“You speak of honor? Have you no respect for His Celestial Majesty? On your knees and beg for mercy!” A harsh voice rebuked me, adding, “Others have died for less.”
I turned to see Minister Wu stepping forward, his eyes bulging in apparent outrage. My gut twisted. He had proven himself no friend of mine, nor my mother’s, and this was no exception.
The minister bowed before the thrones. “Your Celestial Majesty, you have been most gracious to this liar and she has played you false, time and time again. Who knows if she really surrendered the essence to the dragons, and not to the traitor in the Demon Realm?”
For a moment I could not speak, stunned by his malicious accusation. “That’s not true,” I finally managed.
“How can you prove it?” Minister Wu countered.
Liwei glared at him. “Would my word suffice? Because I was with Xingyin when she was abducted, and when she fought by our side against the Demon Army. I stood beside her as she returned the essence to the dragons. Minister Wu, do you question my honor, too?” He threw each word out as a challenge.
The minister bowed to Liwei, though his expression was one of skepticism. “Your Highness, you are kind and merciful. We are all aware of your . . . special friendship with the First Archer. Is there nothing you won’t say to protect her?”
Someone snickered at his insinuation. A few laughed outright. The minister’s words were calculated to inflame the emperor’s wrath, reminding him of what he disdained as Liwei’s “weaknesses,” when they were his greatest strengths. Before, I had wondered if his dislike of me stemmed from my heritage, his contempt of mortals, perhaps. But from his hostility, the way he contrived to incite the emperor against us—it had to be more than that. Had I offended him, without even realizing it? Did he bear some grudge against my parents?
The energy in the hall shifted, flecks of ice drifting in the air as I crossed my arms to cling to a fragment of warmth. Whispered murmurs died away, a moment before a stillness swallowed the room like I had been transported to the land of the dead. The Celestial Emperor’s face was colder than the heart of a glacier. He raised a hand, stretching it out as white sparks crackled from his fingertips, brighter even than the light from my bow—arcing toward me with breathtaking speed. Fear engulfed me in a blizzard of frost and snow. I could not move, not even to tear my eyes from the Sky-fire’s terrible beauty, a heartbeat before it hurtled into me with merciless accuracy.
Pain exploded. Scorching, searing. A thousand white-hot needles piercing my chest, again and again in never-ending agony. I did not feel myself crumple to the floor, tears falling from my eyes onto the jade tiles, unmarred by a single drop of blood. This torture was not of my body being sliced or speared, but of my nerves ripped from my flesh by the sea of lights crackling over my skin. Never had I felt such agony—not from Xiangliu’s acid, the sea scorpion venom, not even when Liwei thrust his sword into me. Nothing in my worst nightmares or darkest fears could have prepared me for this wrenching torment which tore my very being apart.
Strangled gasps slid from my mouth. My body spasmed as I retched myself dry. I had come here with my head held high, but I was beyond caring that a crowd of strangers stood by to witness my utter humiliation.
My screams came then, shattering the silence. Too late did I bite down on my tongue to stifle my cries, blood spilling into my mouth. I welcomed it, a reminder that I was still alive. Through my daze, a voice drifted into my ears—Liwei—his anguish wringing my heart even as I drowned in agony.