Fortunately, he appeared amused rather than incensed. “Have I made you uncomfortable? That was not my intent. I merely wanted to get to know you better. People interest me, as much as books, music, or art interests others.”
My fingers twisted the soft fabric of my skirt as I searched in vain for an appropriate response.
His eyes gleamed as they fixed upon my throat. “Your pendant—the amulet is a rare one. Could you tell me its origin?”
My throat went dry. I had been asked about my family enough times that there was a ready answer on the tip of my tongue. However, no one had ever asked me about my father’s pendant, usually tucked beneath my robe. I thought it a common jewel, its only value to me in its heritage.
“I found it in the marketplace. The one that appears every five years in the Celestial Kingdom,” I said quickly.
“A fortunate find.” He drew out each word.
I shifted in my seat, wondering if he had seen through my lie. I was tempted to change the subject, to venture to safer ground, but his interest had piqued my own. Perhaps he knew something of my father’s pendant. “Why did you call it an amulet?”
“Because it is one. A powerful one, too, of protection.”
My fingers reached up to stroke the jade. Had my father worn this to challenge the sunbirds? Had it protected him from their deadly flame?
Prince Yanxi leaned closer to scrutinize the stone. “Unfortunately, it seems to have been damaged.”
The crack in the rim. “Can it be restored?” I asked, a little too eagerly.
The corners of his mouth dipped. “From its carving, this appears to be a talisman of the dragons. If so, only they can restore it.”
My spirits sank as I released the pendant. The dragons were no longer in the Immortal Realm. Banished, Prince Yanxi had said, echoing the tale I had heard as a child.
“You know a lot about the dragons. In the Celestial Kingdom there is little information on them,” I remarked.
“The Venerable Dragons, as they were called, were born in the Eastern Sea and lived here until their banishment. Though they were never under our rule, our historians, scholars, and scribes gathered all the information they could find on them. Despite their fearsome appearance, the dragons were wise and benevolent, using their might to aid those in need and maintain the peace in our waters. Many revered them—the merfolk, Sea Immortals, even the mortals. Many mourn their loss still. If you are interested to learn more, you are welcome to visit our library.”
“Thank you.” I was grateful for his generous offer. According to Captain Wenzhi, it was not one made lightly. My curiosity was pricked, especially after missing my earlier opportunity and I longed to immerse myself in the library, if only I had the leisure to do so.
“Your Highness, have you heard of the Jade Dragon Bow?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
His body stiffened, almost imperceptibly. “Why do you ask?”
“I heard someone speak of it and I wondered who wielded such a powerful weapon.”
“No one,” he said gravely. “It was lost along with its owner, even before the dragons were banished, and will probably never be found again.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to confide in him that the bow was not lost, that it was in my keeping. But I knew little of the prince and I had promised Captain Wenzhi to not speak of it. Moreover, he seemed to know nothing of its owner’s whereabouts.
The chime of bells drew my attention, with their ringing, silvery tones. Dancers entered, gliding to the center of the hall in a swirl of blue and green silk. A string of golden bells dangled from their waists and their ornate headdresses were studded with precious gems. Each performer carried a polished jade stick to which a wide red ribbon was attached. When the pipa player struck up a new song, a livelier melody with rippling strains, they lifted their sticks and danced. Their graceful bodies twirled and dipped and spun, their ribbons streaming after them as bright as living flames. Sighs of appreciation swelled through the crowd, my own among them.
Two dancers sprang into the air, their ribbons spinning around their bodies in a graceful spiral. When they landed, another leapt up high, arching toward the thrones in a remarkable display of agility. As my eyes followed her, wide with admiration, something bright slid from the base of her stick. The softness of her expression morphed into the ruthlessness of a predator.
My gut clenched with dread. On instinct, I darted for a weapon—finding none, I snatched up a silver plate instead, hurling it at the leaping dancer. It struck her in the temple, knocking her headdress askew. She cried out as she fell to the ground in a tangled heap of silk and ribbon.