Page 56 of Never Ever After

“Prince Zixin gave it to me after I helped him fend off assassins.”

A pause. “Imagine if you hadn’t helped the prince that you are now running from.”

“They would have killed me too.” Suspicion blooms. “Did you send them?”

“No.” He frowns. “Why would you think I did?”

“Starfire? His Highness carries one,” I remind him. “Why do you want it?” Maybe it’s because I’m half asleep, because of how he rushed to my aid—but I want him to confide in me, to prove I’m not just his pawn.

“Doesn’t everyone desire it?”

I keep my face expressionless as my heart dips. Pawns are only told what they need to know; they shouldn’t ask for more.

“Why did you cry out?” he asks.

“A dream.” My guard is up once more. “It could be sleeping in a strange room or dinner last night.” I wince, recalling the coarse noodles slathered in a thick sauce that tasted more of flour than meat.

Jin’s mouth thins as he glances around the cramped space. The morning light streams through the cracked window, falling upon the dirt-encrusted floor and thin mattress. “Market day is a busy time; this was the only inn available. Do you mind these quarters?”

“You forget where you met me.”

“Oh, I remember.” His smile stirs something in me that I swiftly smother. “After living in the Palace of Nine Hills, you might have acquired different tastes.”

“I’m not that changeable. A soft bed isn’t worth risking my life.”

A pause. “Do you think Prince Zixin will hurt you?” He sounds surprised—almost angry.

“Not right now,” I reply honestly. “But who knows what he’ll do when I stop dancing to his tune—when I’m too tired to pretend.”

“I won’t let him harm you.”

And though I still don’t trust Jin entirely, this makes me feel better.

By the door, he inclines his head. “I’ll see you for breakfast. We should leave for the duke’s residence soon.”

Once alone, I change quickly into a moss-green silk dress, the only one I brought. Appearances seem to matter to Duke Yuan, along with the people of his city.

As I enter the dining room, I join Captain Hong and Deng. An awkward silence falls as I take my seat, the first time we’re sharing a meal together. Captain Hong looks away from me, while Deng waves over the proprietor, a stern-faced woman with a stained apron tied around her waist.

“We come from the Iron Mountains,” he announces. “Bring us your best dishes.”

The innkeeper’s mouth purses. “Even if you’re the king himself, all meals must be paid upfront. One silver piece for the lot of you.”

An extortionate amount for this dilapidated inn. But I hold my tongue as Captain Hong lays the payment on the table. The woman swipes it up without a word of thanks, marching toward the kitchen. Shortly after, a girl appears with a large tray, setting down bowls of porridge that appear watery yet lumpy, a plate of boiled meat with a thick rind of fat, braised peanuts, and pickled vegetables. The tea poured into my cup is a watery brown, thin stalks floating on the surface.

Deng sniffs it, wrinkling his nose. “Back in the palace, they’d use tea like this to water the plants.”

“A month in the Palace of Nine Hills and he’s fussier than the prince,” Captain Hong remarks, raising his cup.

I pick up a piece of meat with my chopsticks, taking a bite. It’s tough and underseasoned, but at least not rancid. I don’t take meals for granted. The soldiers start on their food, their faces set in grim determination as they spoon porridge into their mouths.

Deng scoops half the dish of peanuts into his bowl. “It isn’t so bad if you don’t think about what you’re eating.”

“What do you eat back in Thorn Valley?” I ask curiously.

“Whatever wild game we hunt or vegetables we harvest. We also catch fish…” His voice trails off as Captain Hong sets his cup down a little too hard.

“Is Thorn Valley close to the sea? Are you near to Mist Island?” I probe, having imagined their country to be a barren wasteland.