Page 27 of For Ever More

“Yet we are left to bear the burden alone.” Lord Chao shakes his head at me. “Your people are good at making demands, assigning blame, and withholding help.”

“Uncle, it’s late and Yining must return soon,” Jin says tersely. “No one is to know of her presence here.”

Lord Chao sighs as he waves us away. “Go. You seem impatient, Nephew—not yourself.”

Jin takes my arm and leads me from the main hall into a smaller courtyard. Flowers ring a pond, carp darting through the waters. My chest constricts with the remembrance of the Little Dragon, its bones tucked in my pouch. I always bring them, searching for a suitable resting place—but nowhere has felt right.

The manor is larger than it appears from outside. I’m soon lost among the winding paths, the gardens, and unlit courtyards. In a quieter area, a stone wall looms, the entrance guarded by a dozen soldiers.

“How is the Prince of the Iron Mountains?” Jin asks as they open the doors.

A soldier steps forward and bows. “Ill-tempered as usual, my lord. He was shouting threats again this morning, demanding to be released.”

“We should return him to the Iron Mountains where he came from, the ungrateful wretch,” a plump guard interjects. They speak to Jin with respect, though more informally than how the soldiers used to address Prince Zixin. “Your Lordship has treated him generously, allowing him the comforts of this courtyard. A few nights in prison will straighten his overblown ways.”

“Let me speak to him first,” Jin suggests to me. “You could remain here to listen, to assure yourself of his good health—and decide whether you wish to meet him or not.”

I nod, positioning myself by the wall, just out of sight. As Jin stalks to the building, the doors open, Prince Zixin appearing. My body braces like I’ve been struck, my chest squeezed at the sight of him. His white robe is simpler than those he used to wear, his hair coiled in a topknot. Yet he is still handsome, the prince that countless girls dreamed about… foolish ones who didn’t know better. As was I.

“Don’t threaten the guards again.” Jin’s forbidding tone is so different from when he speaks to me. “Your position here is precarious. My uncle wants you dead, you are without friends. You are shown far more grace than you deserve. That can change.”

“Grace? I am a prisoner.”

A mocking laugh rings out. “What did you expect? You are not our guest.”

Prince Zixin slants his head back arrogantly. “You are in my debt. I helped you—”

“What I owe you can be repaid with a blade through your chest. Your soldiers invaded us and killed my father. I seek the destruction of your kingdom and everything it stands for.”

“I had no part in your father’s death,” Prince Zixin retorts. “If you desire vengeance, learn who the blame truly lies with.”

“You’ve taunted me often since your arrival, yet refused to share anything of worth,” Jin says icily. “Maybe you know nothing, maybe your father didn’t trust you with his secrets.” He’s baiting him, trying to draw him out.

“I heard and saw much as the heir. But such valuable information comes at a price.” Even as a captive, Prince Zixin speaks with his usual conceit.

“I have no interest in your games.” Anger pulses in Jin’s words.

As he turns to leave, Prince Zixin calls out, “You know my price. Bring her here. Only then will I tell you the name of your father’s murderer. A simple ask—”

“Unlike you, I don’t trade the people I care about.” Jin halts but does not look at him. “Whether Yining comes or not is her choice.”

“Don’t you want to avenge your father? Are you afraid?” The prince’s words are filled with malice. “Are you keeping her from me? Jealous that she chose me first? Because she kissed me?”

My nails cut into my palms. I’d forgotten how vicious the prince could be.

“Ask Yining about it,” he needles Jin. “The way she responded to my touch. I can sense when a woman desires me—”

Jin swings around, his hand curling as it collides against Prince Zixin’s chin. He hurls himself at Jin, both plunging to the ground, fists flying—as brutal and senseless as a drunken brawl.

I shove the doors apart, stalking into the courtyard. Grabbing Jin’s shoulders, I try to tug him off the prince. As they stagger to their feet, Jin’s eyes blaze, the prince straightening, brushing the loose strands of hair from his face.

“Hiding, Yining?” Prince Zixin drawls in silken tones. “Most unlike yourself. Why did you not visit me before? Were you afraid?”

“I had no desire to see you.” I cross my arms, lifting my chin. “I’m here, as requested. Tell Jin the information you claim to possess—unless your promise is hollow.”

“Have I broken my word to you? You may not have liked what I offered, but I have been honest in what I want from you.” He adds after a pause, “And what I can give.”

Jin moves between us, his bearing taut with fury. “Who killed my father?”