Page 68 of For Ever More

“The maps in Lady Shufang’s quarters,” he says tersely, almost angrily. “You’ll have more success than Shenming in finding them.”

As I open the door, an attendant enters, an older man with graying hair. “Prince Zixin summons Miss Yining.” He points to me almost rudely. “I’m to escort you to his chamber.”

“At this late hour? What could His Highness possibly need?” Jin’s mocking tone masks his fury.

The attendant lifts his chin with an air of superiority. “He needs Miss Yining’s skills to treat him; he said she healed him before.”

My face burns. Is the prince alluding to when I kissed him to sever his bond with the dragon? I suppress the rash impulse to refuse. “I will go.”

“Wait outside. I will help Miss Yining gather her medicines and herbs.” Jin speaks with such authority, the attendant doesn’t dare protest.

Once he leaves, Jin’s gaze locks on to mine. Without a word, he pulls me to him—heat stirring at his closeness, his scent, the way his fingers thrust in my hair. Unspeaking, he tilts my chin up—and then he kisses me fiercely, his lips pressing mine apart. I kiss him back with hunger, his heart thudding against my chest, an insistent pounding that reverberates until my body feels part of his.

When he releases me, I glare at him, not angry that he kissed me… but that he stopped.

He brushes the loose strands from my face, his mouth stern. “I don’t like you going to him.”

“I must.”

“Don’t forget, you’re stronger than the Prince of the Iron Mountains. If you burn him to a cinder, I’ll help you bury him,” he offers with a humorless smile, even as rage scorches his gaze. “He is a fool to ask for just one night.”

“What would you ask for?”

“All your days.” He bends his head to whisper into my ear. “All your nights.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

JIN HOLDS OUT HIS PALM. A SHINING FIREFLY DARTS OUT, the one that led me to him the first time—flying into the folds of my sleeve. “If you need help, send the firefly; I’ll come at once.” He adds, “Be careful.”

“I always am,” I tell him as I leave the room.

The attendant leads me to where Lady Shufang and the prince reside, dread sinking deeper with each step. A wall rings the grounds, the entrance guarded by a large troop of soldiers who allow us in after conferring with the attendant. Within the courtyard, many trees are flowering, scattering their blossoms over the grass. Pavilions are nestled around the garden, one overlooking a stone fountain, delicate sprays of water tossed in the air.

A wide building stretches across the grounds, two stories high—the trees and plants on the rooftop cloaking it in privacy. Inside, it’s quiet, my skin crawling despite the elegance. Crystal lanterns swing from the ceiling, a soft carpet covering the floor. We walk past several closed doors, my eyes darting around impatiently. Just when I think the maps are locked away, I see the scroll paintings hanging from the walls, farther down the corridor. At first glance, they appear to be stunning landscapes. But as I draw closer, more intricate details emerge—of the islands, bridges, and buildings here.

“Are these paintings of the Pearl Ocean?” I ask the attendant, repressing my excitement. “General Suilan mentioned such maps before.”

Upon hearing her name, the attendant’s manner shifts, growing more respectful. “These were commissioned by Lady Shufang and her ancestors,” he says with pride. “Each ruler is responsible for adding more to the collection.”

I point to an island in green, tracing it to a smaller one in yellow. “Why are some colored differently?”

“Those in green are the inhabited islands, linked to the bridges. The yellow ones are vacant, often remote, accessible only by boat.”

I search the paintings, seeking the one the dragon’s magic guided me to. Finding the pavilion where the Ice Pearls are harvested, my heart leaps to discover a cluster of yellow islands on the painting after it—one of which possesses the trees and hills that Jin noted.

The attendant clears his throat impatiently. “We should hurry. His Highness will be angry if we linger.”

My foot intentionally catches the edge of the carpet. I stumble, falling to the floor, dragging myself to sit before the map. “My ankle is hurt.”

As the attendant looks around worriedly, seeking help, I study the map intently. My fingers tingle with the urge to pluck it from the wall and slide it up my sleeve—but it would be too risky. Fortunately, this island is situated far from the bridges. The best path would be to take the third branch off the main bridge, after the palace. From there, we must steal a boat to bring us the rest of the way—

The doors at the far end slide apart abruptly. Prince Zixin strides forward, his black hair loose down his back, stark against his white robe—the same one he wore earlier. “You’re late.”

“Your Highness must be suffering great discomfort to warrant such impatience,” I reply.

A ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “Excruciating.”

“Your Highness has a fragile constitution. I’ll prepare a tonic of rhubarb root,” I say cuttingly. “It will be exceedingly bitter.”