A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (46)

“Approach,” Ruyi says with a hand at my back.

I take a step forward and kneel, touching my forehead to the cold stones. I could never have imagined this moment, even in Shu’s most fanciful tales, that I would be standing before the princess, carrying a secret I am certain she does not want me to know.

“Rise,” her voice instructs me. I stand to look into the face of the regent of Dàxī, the heir to the throne.

Her hair is missing the pins and combs that usually adorn it, falling loose around her face instead. She’s dressed in a gown of pale purple, in a shade so light I had mistaken it initially as white. She appears to be the ethereal embodiment of the Moon Goddess, and I am the unworthy peasant.

“The girl from Sù,” she says with a wry smile. Does it mean amusement or distaste? I cannot tell. “You are the shénnóng-tú who has created a stir in this competition.”

I hide my hands behind my back, suddenly aware of my dirty nails and calloused skin.

“You have captured the attention of Marquis Kuang and also of Chancellor Zhou. The two of them have been in multiple debates about whether you should be permitted to remain in the competition. Whether your presence is too … disruptive in these times.”

Fierce anger flashes within me. Familiar names, familiar accusations. Troublemaker.

“I see something burning within you,” she remarks. “Tell me the truth: Why are you here? Do you dream of toppling the empire?”

I feign ignorance, believing it to be safer than the words of protest that I want to utter. “I … I am not sure of what you speak, Highness,” I say.

“If your purpose is to create unrest, then you have succeeded in your mission,” the princess muses. “But if you had so simple a goal, you would have left when given the opportunity.”

“I want to win the competition,” I tell her, recognizing that now is the time I need to defend myself, walking this precarious path between two people of ambition—the princess and the marquis. “I am not working for anyone but myself.”

Her eyes bore into mine. “Why?”

How much have they looked into the backgrounds of those who are present in the competition? I know with certainty that my mother’s name is in the Book of Tea, but I still don’t know if anyone else in the capital other than Steward Yang knows of her death.

“I am only here for myself. My mother passed away this past winter, Highness.” I have to offer enough of the truth, and I have already given up this information to the steward. “My sister is ill. Without both of them, my family is struggling. Winning this competition, this position, will mean a better life for my family.”

But there is so much I want to ask her. About the poison, the Shadow, how it all ties to my mother’s death. How I want to find the person responsible and tear them apart with my bare hands.

She contemplates this, searching my face as if she wants to carve the truth out of me.

“Do you understand the empire the Ascended Emperor wanted to build? A vision my grandmother upheld, a legacy my father continued to believe in? A better life for the people.”

Your people are starving, I think They’re angry. While you’re deluding yourself with dreams of a grandiose empire.

The princess laughs, a brittle sound. “I see you do not believe me, and I should send you to the dungeons for that.”

I should drop to my knees, beg for her forgiveness. Ensure my survival another day in this competition, yet … yet that is not who I am. It seems to go against my very nature. Even if it dooms me.

She senses my struggle and seems amused by it. “Perhaps you are not lying. I should do as the marquis suggests and have you whipped for your insolence.”

“All of you are the same,” I say. “Afraid of the truth.”

Ruyi is immediately beside me, wrenching my arms behind my back, forcing me to drop to the ground.

“Do you understand my dilemma?” Princess Ying-Zhen looks down at me. “I cannot have people like you creating unrest. I have to maintain order until my father’s illness improves.” Her pulse twitches at her throat. A beautiful lie.

But then she pauses. “What truth are you speaking of?”

“Every season, taxes are expected of us,” I say through gritted teeth, ignoring the painful twisting of my shoulder in Ruyi’s grip. “Even when the harvest is poor, even when there is nothing in our stores and our granaries.”

“Do you think I am unaware of the reports?” the princess snaps at me. “Do you think it pleases me to know my people are suffering?”

“Send me home, and others will take my place,” I tell her. “We will demand to be heard.”

“Watch yourself!” Ruyi warns, and wrenches my arm so hard that I cry out.

“Beg pardon, Your Highness.” I pant, trying to breathe through the pain. “There is a difference between living the suffering and reading about it.”

She stares down at me for a long moment, contemplating this, then turns away. “Let her go.”

Ruyi drops me and I clutch my arm to my body, cradling it. The pain throbs to the beat of my heart.

“Keep your spirited nature,” the princess says with cold amusement. “You will need it for what I require of you.”

I do not understand.

“It surprised me when I realized you had caught the eye of another in the palace,” she continues. “I had my cousin followed when he was moved to the residences. My guards report to me that each night he leaves at the Hour of the Ghost and returns at the Hour of the Thief. To visit … you.”