The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(37)

“I know,” he said. “Only . . . I don’t wish to be alone.”

“You are afraid.”

“Yes.”

Her mother leaned in close, her gray eyes regarding her dying husband with some strange mixture of tenderness and brutality. “Then be afraid,” she whispered.

She righted herself, drew the tiny glass vial up inside the sleeve of her gown, and slipped out the hidden door without a backward glance.

The emperor’s face went ashen. His breathing slowed, then quickened into a rusty rattle.

“Father!” Min cried, shaking herself from her shock, trying to comprehend the lie that was her family laid bare before her.

“Please,” she said, turning to the girl beside her. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you showing me this?” She tried to wrench her hand free, but the girl’s grip was like iron, watching the man below them struggle and gasp and writhe. Her face no longer had the strange feral hunger it had shown before, but it was no less intense, no less rapt.

Min followed her gaze and saw her father staring wide at nothing—but, no. He was staring at them. He was staring back at the girl.

His body had gone slack, but for a moment his face contorted, a terrible collision of grief and longing.

“Tsai . . .”

The name was less spoken than pushed out of him, a long-held breath finally released. It was his last; he went still.

“Who are you?” Min demanded, whirling back at the other girl. Unable to extract her hand from hers, Min shook their arms in furious tandem. “What are you?!”

At that, the unknown girl started, as though only now, for the first time, hearing Min’s voice. She turned slowly toward her and smiled.

“I am the death born inside you,” she said. She embraced Min. Where their skin touched, it was like fire. Min screamed and threw her arms out, trying to push the other girl away, but it was as though she were melting, searing flesh to flesh, sinking down into her bones—

“Princess!”

There were hands upon her now—new hands, different hands. Stable and firm and warm. Alive.

“Princess!”

Min opened her eyes. Butterfly leaned over her, prying Min’s wrists and arms away from her face. Behind her, Snowdrop was wringing her hands. “Princess, please. You must wake,” Butterfly said.

“I’m . . .” Min saw that she was in her own bedchambers, lying atop her coverlets, fully dressed. A dream. It had all been a strange dream. A horrendous and ugly dream, but a dream nevertheless. Her mother, her father—none of it was real.

Oh, thank the gods.

“Princess?” Butterfly said, apprehensive. “Are you all right?”

Min blinked, felt the cold tension ebb from her muscles. The way the nunas were staring, Min could tell her face must have an odd look. She quickly rearranged it. “I’m awake. I’m fine.”

Butterfly nodded and released her hands. The fear on Snowdrop’s face did not fall away. If anything, it now intensified. Min felt suddenly more awake than she had been.

“What is it?” Min asked, her body going cold, as though Snowdrop’s fear were so potent as to be catching.

“Princess . . . ,” Butterfly began, for once seemingly at a loss for words.

“It’s your father,” Snowdrop blurted, tears welling in her eyes. “The emperor is dead!”





CHAPTER 11


Stalked

Another arrow flew, this one so close to Lu’s head she felt it whisper past her hair. It planted itself in the earth with a soft thunk.

Run.

Chaos broke. Shouts went up from her men—there was a flash of steel as weapons were drawn. A crossbow twanged and someone in Hu reds fell to the ground. Lu tried to track who it was, who had shot—who, if anyone, was on her side, and who was the enemy.

“Don’t shoot, you idiots!” Set barked. “You’re too close! We’re going to hit each other!”

Set. The dissonant pieces of the puzzle fell into place. This was her cousin’s doing.

Yaksun reared, nearly tearing Lu from Yuri’s grasp, but the old man clung on with one hand, using the other to still his horse.

“You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” she hissed.

“I didn’t know—not until just now. Listen. There’s no time. Go North. There’s an apothecarist named Omair in the village of Ansana. He will help you. Trust no one, not even your own men.”

His words cut deep. “My own . . . ? They wouldn’t . . .”

He growled and shook her hard. “I know you think you’re invincible, but you can’t fight them all on your own. Now, push me away, and make it look good. If you ever loved me, ever trusted me, you’ll do what I say.”

But did she trust him?

There was no time. No choice. She gave him a theatrical shove. The old man tumbled from his horse in a controlled fall; he hit the ground and rolled.

“Ya!” Lu yelled, digging her heels into Yaksun’s broad sides. The elk gave a bellow and lunged forward in a full gallop.

Behind her, the clash of steel on steel rang an eerie song into the quiet wood. Not everyone had been part of Set’s ambush, then. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder as six Hana men on horses broke out of the fray in pursuit.

“She’s getting away!” Set screamed.