Jade Fire Gold(110)

Ahn’s eyes widen. “I wasn’t aware that there was anything I needed to say.”

I scrub a hand across my face, taking in a long breath and letting it out slowly. I can’t decide if it’s anger or anguish I feel.

“I just carved my heart out for you and the best you can come up with is I know?” I say hoarsely, feeling sick and weak.

She laughs. “Don’t be dramatic, Altan. If you’d carved out your heart, you’d be dead.”





57


Ahn


His hair is growing out and he looks so handsome in his Imperial robes, every inch the emperor he was destined to be. But all I see is the boy from the desert. The boy in black who caught me stealing a mangosteen. Except now, any evidence of that coiled-up energy and predatorial fierceness, that fire, is gone.

Altan looks like he’s about to faint.

“It’s because I killed your father, isn’t it?” His voice is quiet, pained.

My smile fades and the ache in my chest blooms.

I would rather kill you myself.

I turn my back to Altan. “That monster was not my father. He killed your mother. I tried to protect him once, and you saved my life in turn. We’re even.”

The brisk chill of silence deepens. Too much has happened between us and too little of it is good. My father’s words gnaw at my being, making me question everything.

Under the bandages, my ruined hands itch, damaged skin crusted over. I haven’t tried to use my magic. I know it is in me somewhere. I feel it, but I have chosen to reject it. The sword of light or whatever it’s called is locked up in the palace vaults, never to be seen again. Never to be used again to reign terror on the world.

The snow flurry has passed and the sky above me is now cloudless, reminding me of the desert. Closer, sunlight gleams off small mounds of fresh snow resting on the plum blossom tree, and its branches dance in the breeze. As I stare, wondering if I will ever find that girl from the desert again, I notice a tiny pink-and-white petal peeking out from a nascent bud on the highest branch. Fragile, but alive.

It is time to forgive yourself for whatever has happened in the past. Move on and live well.

Ama’s words ring in my head. Maybe, just maybe, what little good I found is worth salvaging. It’s pointless to spend my life looking backward, missing out on living for elusive what-ifs, obsessing over questions that will never bring the right answers.

When I finally turn back, Altan is crouched down on the ground in an undignified manner, face in his hands.

“Are you crying?” I exclaim. He looks up. Thank gods, he’s not. But he looks like he may.

He stands and takes my hand gently, careful not to hurt me. “Then what is it? What’s going on between us? Is there . . . an us?”

My eyes trace the familiar sharp planes of his face, the double crease between his brows that forms every time he looks at me with this intensity. The scars that make him who he is.

“I need time. But I think we’re going to be fine.” Warmth spreads in my chest when I realize how true my words are.

“We will be fine,” he says, determined.

I smirk. “Remember how a long time ago you said that some girl should try and see if she could toy around with your heart for no reason other than her own amusement?”

He blanches, and I regret my ill-timed joke.

“I’m not saying that’s what I did,” I groan, wanting to slap myself for being so foolish. “I mean, I might have thought about it as a joke then, but that’s not what I did. I wouldn’t do that to you—or to anyone.”

Altan doesn’t look like he understands anything I’m saying. The horrified look on his face remains. Frustrated, I grab his collar and pull him close.

He doesn’t react when our lips meet. Not even a little. I step back, unsure of how to feel. He just stands there, confused.

I wrinkle my nose. “That was disappointing.”

He blinks, and the truth sinks in. He starts laughing. A hearty laugh, whole and full of joy. Drawing me close, he wraps an arm around my waist, his hand lifting my chin.

“I can fix that,” he murmurs, voice husky in my ear.

Someone claps. Loudly.

“There they are.”

“About time, Golden Boy!”

Altan groans. “Not again.”

He waves his long sleeve. Snow rises from the ground in an opaque sheet, cocooning us in a curtain of solid white. The voices fade and all I see is Altan. And when he pulls me close, his kiss fills me with light.





Epilogue




The girl looks up at the cloudless sky, eyes following a moving spot in the otherwise empty azure. Her posture is relaxed, confident. But her mind is far from calm.

For want of something to do as she waits, she grabs the thick braid trailing down her back and coils it into a bun at the nape of her neck, securing it with a rib bone of a small animal, sharpened to a fine tip. She pulls her furs close, shivering in the chilly wind. Living in the far north for a decade has not acclimatized her to the frigid winters here.

Soon, she hears someone climbing up the slopes behind her. A messenger.

He bows curtly and unfurls a small piece of parchment. “My lady, you have a message from the queen.”

“Read it,” the girl commands.

“It has come to pass. Return to the palace immediately and travel south with me to Beishou.”