Page 42 of Tears of Gold

Sunshi arrives at a run a few minutes later to find me swaying against a doorframe, shivering with a cold sweat. He doesn’t dare say a word as he helps me back to my room, but I see the shock in his eyes at finding me up and about.

Arriving at my quarters, we find a senior page pacing by the door, and he snaps to attention at the sight of us. “Her Imperial Majesty sent me to inquire if something was keeping His Highness, the second prince.”

Qi Lords, give me patience! My two hours must have passed while the physician treated me and while I waited out on the wall.

Sunshi scans me up and down. I wince but nod.

“Inform her His Highness is dressing and will attend momentarily.”

The page bows. “Very good. Her Imperial Majesty awaits you in the Throne Room.”

Fuck! Right in the middle of the New Year’s gala.

An invisible clock seems to tick in my ear as Sunshi bundles me into the shower and out again at lightning speed, helping me dry and dress in a formal suit of black with red embroidery. Every passing moment reminds me how deeply trapped I am in this family and in this role.

“The color shouldn’t show the blood if your bandaging happens to leak,” Sunshi mutters as he sits me at the side table and covers over the bruising on my face with skin powder. “But we’ll need to do something about hiding the puffiness around your eyes.” He holds up a pot of gold paint in silent suggestion, and I nod.

I close my eyes as he paints gold across my upper and lower eyelids, creating a serene royal mask to hide behind. With every familiar brush stroke, I sink deeper and deeper into my façade as the perfect, emotionless prince, pressing down not only my agony but the bitter disappointment of my forced role in life.

Paint and fine clothes are all the armor I’m permitted to use in today’s battle. Anik will most definitely be at the party.

“All done, my prince,” Sunshi murmurs after fitting a heavy gold collar that covers my shoulders and holds three rows of gold chains, signifying my status as a prince.

Looking in the mirror, I finally see a royal, but I feel far from it.

Every step hurts as I make my way into the throne room in the heart of the palace.

The footman bows to me before sending up a puff of qi that sparkles and chimes, catching the attention of the crowd of nobles. “Announcing His Highness Prince Erritt Elduwan Exerin.”

The emperor breaks off his conversation with his chief of staff, and the musicians quiet down to a barely-there ambiance of soft strings accompanied by the gentle tinkle of running fountains in the back of the room, leaving me exposed to the room of hawk eyes. Anik stands at ease beside the twin thrones, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smirk. My stomach churns, and my pulse picks up speed.

I’ve attended events like this a thousand times in the throne room, so I suppose I’ve become numb to the scene, but this room is a wonder of Exerin-Mi, although one I can never show Ava. I glance around, wondering what she would think of the splendor.

Outside in the streets, ropes of vines and flowers bedeck the buildings, but in here, the garlands are made of sheets of spun gold, pinned with flower bouquets crafted from gems lit with qi. The usual chandeliers have been replaced with strings of flared crystals like long wisteria branches, glittering with lavender and silver light, and pulsing with streams of qi light, artfully drawing the eye toward the thrones at the head of the room. Globes of qi dance against the shadowed ceiling, bringing the MIhan Lights into the throne room in miniature.

A beautiful façade for a dynasty that’s as hard and cold as the ice I wield.

The nobles step back to clear the center aisle for me as I walk to the throne with a straight back, trying to pretend I’m not about to pass out from the agony ripping through my essence. My knees feel weak, and the room's edges fade to gray. Bright spots dance across my vision as I kneel before the thrones. The empress smiles faintly, telling me she’s delighted to see me. Under normal circumstances, I’d be happy to see her too.

“Rise, Erritt,” the emperor orders.

Mother rises and comes down the steps to kiss my cheek. A muted whimper escapes across my tongue as I dredge up my fragmented mental shields, the strain leeching through me like a persistent toothache. When she looks at me questioningly, I clear my throat as if that was what I was attempting the first time.

“H-Happy New Y-Year, Mother.”

“I’m so happy to see you, Erritt!

I glance over her shoulder at Anik, who watches me with a sly smirk on his face. His chestnut eyes which are mirror images of our mother’s gleam with twisted amusement as he enjoys knowing how much I’m suffering. It would destroy the empress to know what happened between us, not just today, but years ago when Anik first took our sibling squabbles too far.

Standing five feet away from Anik sets all of my nerves on edge, the ones that haven’t expired from the qi lashing. I can’t wait for this nightmare to be over.

“Your Highness,” a soft voice calls, and I turn to find Mera sweeping into a deep curtsey. “How wonderful, you made it after all. I was coming to give your greetings to Their Majesties, but I see that’s no longer required.”

Gazing down at the classical woman, an odd sense of revulsion sweeps through me. Six months ago, I believed Mera, or someone like her, would be my fate—a political match who I would eventually marry and have to forever hold myself at arm’s length from. A partnership of duty, nothing more.

“Hello. . . again, Mera.”

My throat thickens. I even assumed I would have to give Skye up once I left the academy. The bands of my cage close around me as rigidly as the gilded walls hold the red dome in place overhead.