Page 98 of For Ever More

Some are glancing at me curiously. At once, I move away from the crowd, trying to recall the palace layout, where the quietest places are to find a way in. I can’t enter through the main gate where they test everyone with the iron tablet to detect “magic-wielders.” A farce, when the greatest magic now belongs to their queen. As it turned out, the royal family didn’t ever hate or fear magic… just magic that didn’t belong to them.

The crowd behind stirs, the doors creaking wider as soldiers shout for the people to make way. Someone of note must have emerged from the palace. I duck my head, hurrying away. Even with my altered appearance, I won’t chance getting recognized.

“Bring the girl to me. The one in green,” an imperious voice rings out, one that is far too familiar.

My stomach hollows but I feign ignorance; there are many here in green. As I quicken my pace, a soldier blocks my path. Reluctantly I turn—the dark gaze of the Prince of the Iron Mountains locking upon mine.

His white brocade robe is embroidered with gold, tassels of jade and iron hanging from his waist, rings circling his fingers. He frowns, peering closer, as if not knowing me in my disguise. But then his mouth curves in a wretched smile—that vanishes as the soldier grabs my arm and drags me forward.

“Unhand my servant.” Though he speaks softly, the prince’s tone is rife with menace. At once, the soldier releases me with a grudging apology.

Coldness blooms in my gut, even as it stings to be called “his servant.” My hands close around the bell-shaped flowers in my pouch, those that emit light and heat. If Prince Zixin betrays me, I’ll cram these down his throat.

“I was waiting for you.” He speaks sternly to me, flanked by his attendants and guards.

At once, I dip into a low bow, keeping my face down. How easily deception returns to me—yet this is a different game we’re playing, both our safety at stake. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

“Why were you lingering outside?” he demands, not waiting for a response as he strides back to the palace. “Follow me.”

His arrogance has returned in full measure, or it never faded. He doesn’t turn, knowing I must obey before the watching soldiers. Fear of treachery hovers—but if he intended this, he wouldn’t lie on my behalf. Moreover, he is bringing me into the palace, where I need to be.

For now, I must keep my identity hidden; I must set my plan in order before confronting Queen Chunlei. An idea takes root, of persuading Prince Zixin to help. He’s not a friend, yet he helped us get away, not wanting his sister to obtain the starfire. It would be safer to have an ally in the Palace of Nine Hills… even one I don’t entirely trust.

The guards don’t stop or question me. As I step through the thick walls, my insides curl at the memory of how I fled once with Jin, over the rubble of the entrance he’d destroyed—now gleaming as new, reinforced with iron. My heart leaps at the thought of him here, even as I dread to imagine where he’s imprisoned.

Farther in the palace, my head spins, my chest taut. Magic is dangerous here, suppressed by the iron; I can’t risk detection. Being back here awakens foreboding and dread; it feels like it did whenever I went home to Mistress Henglan—all wrong.

I follow the prince and his attendants. My pulse races as we cross the main square with the stone sculpture of the dragon, taking the path that leads past my old courtyard—then the prince’s former quarters, with its high walls and red lacquered door. More guards are stationed outside than I recall.

The plants and trees are still barren of flowers, silk blossoms strewn upon the grass or pinned to the branches. Yet there are more lanterns, hanging from jeweled stands, new fountains and ornamental sculptures erected across the grounds. Evidence of newfound prosperity, maybe the wealth of the Amber Forest channeled into the Iron Mountains’ coffers.

We walk a long way, closer to the outskirts of the palace, halting by an entrance flanked by stone lions. At the sight of the prince, the soldiers lower their spears, bowing to him. Yet their deference feels hollow, their eyes flicking over him with a glimmer of insolence as they open the doors. Prince Zixin stalks past them, into the courtyard, his jaw tense with suppressed fury.

Though large, the garden here is untended, the building showing signs of wear with stained walls and broken tiles. The chamber within is sparsely furnished, the bedding and hangings frayed at their edges.

Marks of the queen’s disdain for her brother. She allows him the farce of respect secured through Lady Shufang—yet these petty discourtesies are a constant reminder that while the prince has been restored to his position, he is no longer in favor.

If so, it will be easier to convince him to help me.

As Prince Zixin orders the others to leave, my attention is drawn to the food on the table: cold sesame noodles, sliced meat, small pastries, mandarins, walnuts. I pick up a pastry, inspecting it for poison, then finish it in a few quick bites. Another follows, washed down with hot tea that I realize too late was meant for the prince. As I set down the cup, he sits across from me.

“I’d tell you to eat what you want, but you’ve already helped yourself.”

“I was hungry. Some of us don’t feast at banquets daily.”

“I would be glad to never attend another one in my life,” he says shortly.

“Are they less enjoyable when the guests don’t dance to your pleasure?”

He stares at me coldly, just how he used to when I angered him. “Join us for the next one—my sister would be delighted to see you.”

“There is nothing I’d like less,” I reply.

“Chunlei would reward you if you did her bidding.” He speaks intently, as though testing me. “She believes you have the last starfire.”

I say nothing, picking up a mandarin, yet my appetite has faded. I never feel entirely at ease with him. “Didn’t you reconcile with your sister?”

His eyes narrow; nothing is forgiven on his part. “Yining, do you think I could forgive someone—especially my own blood—after such a vile betrayal? Don’t you know me by now?”