21
Cracking my eyelids apart, I squinted at the brightness. Sunlight streamed through the windows, mingled with a salt-laced breeze. My body was heavy with that limpness which comes after a long slumber, each movement a struggle. I shivered, cold, except for the warmth over my hand. A strong grip, but whose? Someone sat beside me, the face a blur as I blinked to clear my vision. I did not mind the touch. It was a comfort through the memories which curled at the edge of my consciousness—of blood, of pain and terror.
I jerked upright. My eyes locked onto Wenzhi’s, softer than I had ever seen them before. My skin heated as I tugged my hand away. How long had he been here? How long had I slept? I swung my legs over the side of the bed, trying not to wince from the ache.
He frowned. “You’ve been asleep for days. Take it slow.”
“I feel fine.” Despite my bravado as I lurched to my feet, I was light-headed, swaying where I stood. Pride alone kept me from sinking back down on the bed as I gripped the wooden frame to steady myself.
He slipped an arm around me, his hold light yet firm as he helped me to the nearest chair.
“Prince Yanming. Is he safe? What happened?” My questions fell out in a rush.
“You’d do better to worry about yourself next time.”
He lifted the teapot and poured out a stream of reddish-brown tea into a porcelain cup, pushing it toward me. Pu’er. I inhaled its rich and earthy fragrance before taking a long sip, the liquid sliding down my throat with a reviving warmth.
“Prince Yanming is well and has been demanding to see you.” He paused to refill my cup. “After Governor Renyu’s death, the merfolk surrendered. Their punishment is yet to be determined.”
Memories flashed through my mind—of the sick pleasure the governor had taken in tormenting me, his haunted expression as Wenzhi’s sword plunged through his chest. The crimson blood which had pooled around his body, sunken in the terrible stillness of death. I was glad for it, I told myself, even as my stomach churned. The governor would have killed me, as viciously as he could. But I still found little triumph in this moment. And though he had gone, the scars of his deceit remained; the lives he had stolen, those irrevocably destroyed.
“The merfolk may not be to blame. The governor had a strange power that helped him gain their trust. His voice, his pendant . . .” I frowned, trying to make sense of my fragmented memories. “He used it on me, too.”
His face darkened. “How did you resist?”
“I sealed off my hearing.” I grimaced. “Stupid, perhaps. It made fighting him much harder, but I couldn’t think of anything else.”
His hand clenched on the table, until his knuckles were white around the joints. “Fortunately, the governor’s powers were weak, coming from the pendant, as you guessed. A true Mind Talent could have bent even your will in seconds. Once in thrall, he would have held you till your end or his.”
An echo of the governor’s boast, rousing anew my fears from before. As though sensing my distress, he reached across the table and touched my arm. “I should not have left you. You wouldn’t have been so hurt if I had stayed.”
“If you had stayed, maybe we’d all be bowing to Governor Renyu now.” I added gravely, “This is not your fault. My safety is in my own care. And I certainly had no intention of letting him kill me. I would have made him regret his attempts. Eventually.”
“I have no doubt that you would have.” He leaned forward, inspecting my face. “If you’re well enough, we should leave soon. I’ve already sent the others back, however Prince Yanxi wants to see you before we go. He’s in the audience chamber this morning.”
I rose, feeling a little steadier as I smoothed down my pale green robe, only now having the presence of mind to check if I was appropriately dressed. Such plain garments might raise brows from the impeccably attired Eastern Sea Court, but after having almost died, I had greater concerns on my mind.
The moment we entered the hall, Wenzhi was called aside by an Eastern Sea general. I kept to the outskirts of the room, searching for Prince Yanxi—finally finding him deep in conversation with another immortal. The stranger was turned away from me, yet the way he stood and how his dark blue brocade robe sat across his shoulders, were oddly familiar.
When Prince Yanxi noticed me, he inclined his head. As his companion swung around, his dark eyes pierced mine.
It was Liwei, the last person I expected to see here. A quiver rippled through my heart—dread or joy, I could no longer tell apart the emotions he evoked in me. But he was dear to me still, no matter how I wished he were not.