I might not be able to kill the King, but I can at least stall him. And maybe this will prove to Wren that I can be counted on to help with the assassination.
“I need your help,” I tell Lill the minute I get back to my room, my words coming fast. I crouch down and grip her shoulders. “There’s something I need to do before going to the King tonight. Do you think you can distract Madam Himura and the maids for me? Just for a few minutes?”
She tenses. “But, Mistress, the maids are already here—”
“Tell them I’m not feeling very well. That I just need a bit of fresh air.”
Her furred ears quiver. “Maybe we should call for a doctor if you’re sick,” she mumbles, teething her bottom lip.
“Remember how I grew up working in my parents’ herb shop? I just want to make a quick remedy to calm my nerves.” Lill still looks unconvinced, so I push on, “After what happened last time, I really need to impress the King. You understand that, don’t you? Just a few herbs. That’s all I need to calm myself. And then I’ll be ready for him.”
This last bit at least is true.
In an instant, Lill beams. “You should have said that’s why, Mistress! Of course I’ll help you with anything that’ll win you favor with the King!”
I give her a hug, trying to ignore the squirm of guilt at lying to her.
Hours later: the sky strewn with stars, the palace streets flickering with lantern glow and the icy whip of the wind. This time, there are fifteen guards in my escort through the King’s fortress. I bite down laughter at how ridiculous it is, all these armor-clad demons with weapons at the ready against a single human girl in flimsy robes, her only armament a handful of herbs hidden in the sash at her waist.
Major Kenzo Ryu—or Wren’s wolf, as I have come to think of him, not without some jealousy—leads the group. He takes my arm when we near the King’s door, shifting closer so I catch the musky, natural scent of him. It reminds me of long grass in the fields beyond our village, the smell of earth baking in the sun. Even though I only saw him last night, it’s my first chance to get a proper look at him up close. He’s young for a major, not more than ten years older than me, gray wolf fur poking between his armor and covering his handsome, long-jawed face. The sharp tips of canines are just visible under his top lip.
Over the last few months I’ve become used to being around Steel and Moon castes, but his predatory nature isn’t lost on me.
He’d better not be in love with Wren. The thought comes to me in a burst of mad humor. Because I definitely won’t be the one walking away from that fight.
The other soldiers drop back as the wolf leads me to the King’s door, handling me with surprising gentleness despite his size. “I’m sorry,” he says suddenly in a low voice.
My chin jerks up, and he squeezes my arm in warning.
“Eyes ahead.” His voice is a deep, gravelly growl, yet somehow warm at the same time, like the comforting purr of a loved one’s snore. “To have to deliver you to the King,” he explains. “I’m sorry.”
“Hopefully this will be the last time,” I mutter.
His bronze eyes flick my way before he knocks on the door.
“Hopefully.”
There is no shove this time. No hissed “whore.” After the doors open, I take a deep inhale and step inside. Blackness swallows me. For a while I don’t move, just trying to catch my breath, forcing down the liquid pull of nausea, the dizzying skip of my pulse.
“There’s no point in hiding, Lei-zhi.”
The boom of the King’s voice startles me. Distance and the shape of the tunnel distorts it, giving it an almost physical presence, like a thunderclap in the dark. With a roll of my shoulders, I start slowly forward. While I’m still concealed in the shadowed tunnel, my footsteps echoing off the arched walls, I run my fingers along my sash. It’s tied at my waist over the gathered silks of my ruqun robes, knotted firmly to keep all the material in place, and as I finger the comforting shape of the small leaf-wrapped parcel it’s also holding, my heart skips faster.
Desire cannot be tamed. That’s what the King told me the first time I was here.
Well, King. You should see how untamable love makes you.
His chambers are just as I remember. Candles fill the air, a ruby glow, and the overpowering scent hits the back of my throat. But there’s something different this time as I pad across the cavernous room to where the King is watching my approach, sloped back in his massive throne.
Me.
The first time I crossed this room, my knees shook so badly I could barely walk. Fear seared every inch of me, like venom. Part of me even wanted to please him. I’d committed to being a Paper Girl, believing it was the only option I had to save my family.
Now I march toward him with the knowledge that that part of me is long gone.
“I was not hiding, my King,” I say, my voice echoing off the high walls. I keep it steady. “I was just… readying myself for seeing you.”
“You are still scared of me?”
His voice is gloating. He wants me to be scared.
“Yes,” I answer, hating that it isn’t entirely a lie.
The crooked grin he gives me is shot through with something tense, some raw, feral quality that reminds me of how he was that night at the koyo celebrations. His ebony robes hang open at the chest, revealing the hard swell of muscles.
My gaze slips to the vial of sake on the side table.
“Come here,” he commands.
I do as the King says, the long skirt of my robes whispering across the stone floor. I’ve only just knelt at his feet when he grabs a fistful of my robes. He yanks me forward so hard I have to throw my hands out to stop from smashing my forehead into the marbled gold of his throne.
“No need to be so formal, Lei-zhi,” he says with a cutting smile, leaning in close, frosted eyes leering. “I’ve seen you naked, don’t you remember? Act coy, but I know all you Paper Girls are hungry for it. So hungry you’ll even spread your legs for one of my soldiers. Imagine!” Flecks of spit hit my face as his voice rises. “A common soldier, when you have shared a bed with the King!”
His breath reeks of alcohol. I wince as he tears my robes open at the collar, baring my neck, the small swell of my breasts.
Panic flares through me. My eyes go again to the bottle of sake. I thought there’d be conversation like last time, time for me to carry out my plan.
“M-Mariko was thrown out by Madam Himura,” I start, trying to keep him distracted. Twin currents of anger and fear twine through my voice, and they seem so much like the same thing now—hot, bright, defiant—that it’s hard to imagine them unthreaded. “The doctor carved the word rotten into her forehead to make sure everyone knows what she did.”
The King’s laughter bounds around the room. “The girl got what she deserved. No one betrays me and gets away with it.”
My jaw tightens. “Do many people betray you, my King?”
His nostrils flare. “A surprising number,” he answers through peeled lips. “You would think my people would be grateful for what I have done for them. All the comforts and riches I’ve shared. The efforts I’ve made to stop the Sickness.” He draws me closer, tracing a calloused fingertip along my chin, his hot breaths stirring the strands of hair around my cheeks that the maids earlier so carefully styled. “Tell me, Lei-zhi—are you grateful for what I’ve given you?”