The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(96)

Nok held back a sigh and nodded instead. “Let’s go see some gardens, then.”



Prince Jin led them down a stairwell conneting Nok’s hallway to a lower level. Here, gardens were planted on dozens of stepped tiers cut into the side of the mountain, small pathways connecting them. The prince kept pace with Nok, acting as though his slowness were completely normal. Nasan had no patience for such coddling; she forged ahead on the stone path, pausing to gaze up at the ornate buildings cut into the face of the mountain in skeptical wonder.

Nok found looking up made him dizzy, so he kept his eyes trained to the path, or at whatever plant Prince Jin was directing his attention toward. The gardens the Yunians grew had little of the sharp, neat order Nok had glimpsed in those of the more upper-class homes of the Second Ring. Rather, they grew in a pleasant, languid sprawl of blue-green vines, some of the leaves stiff and needlelike, others plump and succulent.

“. . . of course, we had more variety in the old days, but since we moved into the Inbetween, we no longer have spring—or seasons at all. As far as flowers are concerned, we are limited to what the Nima trees can provide,” Prince Jin was telling him, gesturing to a cluster of trees, their mournfully drooping branches spangled with clusters of pale ash-white flowers.

“They are named for a lesser goddess who fell in love with a spirit of the Inbetween. So enamored was she that she watched him daily from a port in the Far Beyond—what you might call the heavens—until finally she leaned too far forward and fell. She died in her love’s arms, and her last gasp was filled with such longing and sorrow that it washed over him like a perfumed wind. Where they rested her body, the first Nima tree sprung up. The blossoms that adorn their branches carry the scent of her breath, and they wear mourning shrouds of white petals.”

“That is . . .” Nok fumbled for a polite word. “Quite a story.”

Jin smiled in the same easy, unabashed manner he seemed to do everything. “It’s only a myth, but it is my favorite because it is so romantic. We don’t have a lot of romance in our myths, otherwise.”

“He didn’t love her back, though. Didn’t even know her, did he?” Nasan interjected from below, making Nok jump. “Seems like a waste.”

Jin’s eyebrows vanished beneath his thick fringe. “To die for love? How could that be a waste?”

Nok shrugged uncomfortably under Jin’s wide stare. “I suppose,” he said, if only to end the conversation.

They wended their way down two more garden tiers. Nasan left them again to plow ahead.

“I would like to know Princess Lu better,” Prince Jin blurted once Nasan was out of earshot. “Is there an activity I could engage her in? Would she take well to an invitation for a private walk around the palace grounds, do you think? I fear I am not very familiar with your Hu customs; I don’t wish to seem overly forward.”

Nok frowned. “I . . . I’m not Hu, either.”

“My apologies! Of course, you are Ashina. But, you know the princess well,” Jin said. “Tell me, what is she fond of? What does she enjoy?”

Hunting. Fighting. Aloud he told the prince, “I . . . I think she would walk with you?”

“Is there a particular gift she might enjoy? Certain foods? Flowers?”

Nok tried to imagine how Lu would respond to an offering of flowers.

“You are smiling . . . Did I say something amusing?” Jin asked quizzically.

“What? Oh no . . . it’s just . . . well, nothing.”

He is trying to court her, Nok realized with a shock. Was this boy—this young man—such a fool that he would be taken in by a pretty face?

He doesn’t even know her.

Well, the prince was likely to be disappointed. He was amiable, but clearly a bit simple. Dull. Lu was not likely to be impressed. Was she? He was very handsome.

Jin surged on, heedless to Nok’s discomfort.

“Perhaps no gift, then? But you think it would be acceptable for me to ask her to take a private walk. Just the two of us?”

The thought made Nok uncomfortable. He needed to sit and rest. “I . . . I think that would be fine,” he heard himself say.

“My apologies for asking so many questions,” Jin said. “I have never met anyone quite like Princess Lu.” He smiled shyly. “Everything around here is so still, so quiet . . . like stone. She is truly a child of the fire—so alive. Even her eyes, they dance like flames.”

Nok felt a twinge of annoyance in his gut. Why is he telling me this? He shuffled his feet, eager to move along. How did one politely sidestep a prince’s interrogation?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know anything about the princess . . . or, really, princesses in general. I’m just her guide.”

Jin’s brow furrowed. “She referred to you as her friend. My apologies, I assumed from the way she spoke of you, you knew her quite intimately.”

Before Nok could reply, they were interrupted by the sound of a massive bell being struck. Its ring was low and subtle to the ear, but it thrummed through Nok’s body with such force he felt as if he were caught in the gentle current of a river. Up ahead on the path, he saw Nasan look up as though she’d felt it, too.

“Oh!” Jin exclaimed. “Court is being called to session . . . I lost track of the hour.”