Page 114 of Empire's Curse

“His Majesty won’t be happy to hear that?—”

“Scram.” He tightened his hold on his spear.

“But—” Whatever hope she had wavered as panic surged. Ifshe couldn’t get back into the palace, what would she do? Would she be forced to go back home and forget this whole marriage altogether? Did Muyang really not want to see her at all? What if?—

“Lady Daiyu?”

She recognized the familiar, curious voice and followed her gaze in his direction. Commander Yao Bohai was a few feet away down the road by the glimmering, jade-colored palace gates. Dressed from head to toe in his black, scaly armor, he appeared more intimidating than usual. He raised a delicate, light eyebrow at the sight of her.

“You’re back? I didn’t think you’d want to return.”

“Err, well, I had some unfinished business.” She tried to smile, but her nerves got the better of her and it came out as a grimace instead. She jerked a thumb at the guards, who had gone still at the door. “Do you think you can let me inside? I wish to speak to His Majesty.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” He nodded to the guards. They all scrambled forward, yanking the door open quickly and ushering them inside.

She shot the guards one last nasty look before sauntering inside with the commander-in-chief. When the doors shut behind them, Bohai turned to her sharply, his voice dropping. “You came at the right time, I suppose. His Majesty is not doing so well. After you left … well, things took a turn.”

Her heart nearly stopped and her steps slowed. She didn’t understand what he was saying at all. “What … do you mean?”

Bohai waved her down the hall. “Come on, let’s walk and talk.”

She hurried after him, her strides slower than his large ones. “Commander Yao—” Her voice cracked with sudden terror. “What do you mean thingstook a turn? A turn for what?”

“There were enemies in the palace,” he said quickly, his gaze flicking from one end of the hall to the other, and then back at her. “At the end of the evening, they attacked His Majesty.Normally, Feiyu is able to protect His Majesty, but he was nowhere to be found in the palace. You left with him, didn’t you? Because Muyang—I mean, His Majesty—told me he took you away. But anyway, Feiyu usually protects the palace since he harbors all the magic—you knew that, didn’t you? Well, he wasn’t around, and so when His Majesty was attacked, he couldn’t … he couldn’t protect himselfthatwell.”

Daiyu couldn’t wrap her mind around what he was saying, the words spilling out too hastily, but there were a few things that began sinking in right away. Muyang was attacked. Feiyu couldn’t protect him because he was with her. Muyang didn’t have much magic ever since four years ago. He wasn’t able to protect himself?—

She swallowed down the fear tightening around her neck. “But he’s okay? Right? Muyang is all right?” Even to her own ears, she sounded small and absolutely petrified. “Commander Yao, please tell me he’s all right?—”

“He’s … hanging in there. But we can’t find Feiyu anywhere.” Bohai pursed his lips together, his steps hurrying along the polished tiles. Theclick click clickof his boots barely registered to her reeling mind. “Feiyu has healing magic, but he’s nowhere to be found. I don’t know … why he would disappear at a time like this.”

She was supposed to return to the palace and confront Muyang about what happened at the festival. She was supposed to tell her side of things and listen to his explanation. She was supposed to tell him that she loved him.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.

She couldn’t believe it—Muyang was powerful, so very, verypowerful. In her mind, he could never lose. And yet, and yet …

Nausea rolled over her. “Is he … is hedying?”

Bohai didn’t say anything when they stopped by a heavy-set, ornamental, gilded door with ruby-painted dragons sprawled along the tall frame. Stoic guards stood on either side of the double doors, their faces expressionless and hard. They bowedtheir heads in their direction and one of them grasped the gilt handle and slid it open for them.

Daiyu dragged her feet to a halt, not wanting to enter the room. She turned her wide-eyed stare from Bohai to the door, and then back at him again. “Is he—” she couldn’t finish the sentence, her lips wobbling.

“Go inside.Please.” Bohai motioned for her to enter.

“No.” Her shoulders quivered. She didn’t want to go inside. Not with this news hanging over her head. She wasn’t prepared to see Muyang in a horrible state. Was he bloodied? Battered? Completely broken?

The tightness around Bohai’s eyes softened. “He’ll be happy to see you, Lady Daiyu.”

She somehow pushed herself forward, one leg at a time, her breathing shallow as she passed through the threshold into what she presumed were his bedchambers. Inside, she noticed all the members of thePeccatascattered throughout the room. They sat on couches, the windowsill, and even on the floor by the hearth. None of them spoke, but they all turned to her sharply when the door clicked shut behind her and Bohai.

A quick scan revealed Muyang wasn’t in the room. Atreus, who sat on the couch, his hands steepled together and a deep, worried scowl on his face, nodded his chin toward the set of sliding doors leading to another section of the chambers.

Daiyu took in the grave faces all around her. The backs of her hands grew clammy and she rubbed them on her thighs distractedly. Without another word, she headed to the doors. Her hands continued to tremor as she fitted them into the grooves of the handle.

She slid the door open, hurried inside, and slid it shut. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The only light source came from the windows, but they were covered with a thick, dark screen that obscured most of it. In the center of the room was a massive four-poster bed frame that could fit at least five people on it, and Muyang wason one side of it, his eyes shut closed. The curtains of the frame were pulled aside, revealing her seemingly comatose husband.

She inched closer, gasping at how pale he appeared. His dark hair pooled around him like inky splotches against the crisp, white sheets. With pale skin, darkness blooming under his eyes, and a shallowness to his breath that appeared like he wasn’t breathing, Muyang looked like he was on death’s doors. Thick bandages were wrapped around his chest, already seeping with a sharp scarlet.

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