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“It’s to be expected, when we’re little more than strangers.” Yet I feel closer to him now, after we defended each other.

“You saved me. For a moment I thought—”

“I’d betray you to stay alive?” I finish his sentence for him.

“That you’d look out for yourself. It’s what most would have done.” His voice catches, emotions playing across his face. “You protected me… you killed one of them for me.”

The memory sears; it sickens me. It wasn’t just for him; I was defending myself too. But the intensity in his gaze robs me of protest. I bend to pick up my knife from the ground, recoiling from the blood.

“Don’t stain your hands,” he tells me. “I’ll get you another.”

But I take it anyway, wiping its blade on the grass, not accustomed to leaving my possessions behind. “Does this happen often?”

“Yes, with my father. This is the first time I’ve been attacked. But there are always those dissatisfied with the state of affairs.”

The disdain in his tone unsettles me. The assassins weren’t spurred by greed or ignorance. The misery they spoke of resonated with me, as did their despair. The riches of our kingdom are channeled only to a chosen few.

“Do they have reason for their dissatisfaction?” A dangerous question, but tonight I’ve earned the right to ask it. And it’s important to me that Prince Zixin is more than they think, that he isn’t the villain they believe.

His jaw tightens. “Our treasury needs funds. The iron wall that my father built has cost us dearly. Our soldiers need new weapons and armor, vital to keep those of Mist Island and even envious allies at bay. If we are complacent, our strength will wane. I do this for our people.” His fingers brush the seal at his waist. “Father believed that for the Iron Mountains to be safe, we must be the greatest power.”

“What do you believe?”

“He was right, in a way.” He pauses, searching my face. “Yet power is meaningless when it destroys those it is meant to protect.”

I release my breath then, my tension unraveling at his words. I didn’t want to have chosen wrong; to have killed for nothing. I want him to be the prince I dreamed of, who would protect us all.

The moon breaks from a bank of clouds, its pale light falling across his face. His eyes lock on mine, dark like midnight, as bright as the stars. As I remember how close he held me, heat flushes my body like I’m fevered—yet tempered by caution and fear. It’s like standing on the edge of a riverbank, wanting to fall, unsure whether I’ll sink or swim.

But tonight, by the shores of this silvery lake, beneath the spell of his fathomless gaze… I’ll admit to myself that I want him too.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

R ain falls in a light sheet as I head toward the dining hall. Previously, I’ve chosen to eat in my room rather than among strangers, feeling out of place. But Prince Zixin will be attending tonight, and after the attack by the lake two days ago—I want to see him again.

Just yesterday, he sent a gift to my room: a magnificent dagger sheathed in a gold scabbard, its hilt studded with rubies, its moon-bright blade glittering like the weapons the soldiers here bear.

“The finest iron,” Shan told me. “You can’t buy this quality outside; it’s reserved only for the royal family and palace guards.” He looked at me curiously. “Why would His Highness give this to you?”

“He didn’t like mine.” I set aside my old knife, picking up the dagger. A precious weapon, one I could sell for a grand price—yet the thought of parting with it left me hollow.

The prince kept his promise, the realization warming my heart more than the gift. A desire grows to confide in him, to confess my bond with my ring—to ask, rather than scheme for its return. But there is magic entwined with it, magic the palace forbids. I can’t answer the questions he’ll have, and I don’t dare place my life in his hands… at least, not yet.

Shan hurries after me, brandishing an umbrella, the thick oiled paper painted with a spray of red flowers.

“I don’t mind the rain,” I tell him.

He scowls, thrusting the umbrella at me. “You’ll mind it more if you stand before His Highness looking like a drowned rat.”

“Rat?” I repeat, glaring at him.

“I’ve even matched it to your dress.” He gestures at my lilac silk robe embroidered with plum blossoms.

I grin, ducking beneath his umbrella, just in time as the rain falls harder. A group of nobles walks past us, sheltered beneath their attendants’ umbrellas. One of them, a girl in pink brocade, waves at me—Daiyu, whom I met the night of the ball. Her friends stare, whispering among themselves, Lord Liuming among them. Shan had shared the gossip at court, that many are calling me an opportunist, unworthy of their prince’s attention. It stings, but their malice is easier to bear, knowing envy lies at the root of it.

Daiyu frowns at her companions, shaking her head, then abruptly strides away as though angry. A knot of dread unfurls as Lord Liuming and another woman start toward me, their attendants hurrying to shield them from the rain. As they crowd my path, I should step aside to let them pass—but I don’t, pride rearing up. Why should I give way? Lord Liuming stalks closer, then collides against me with full force. Staggering back, I fall to the ground—Shan’s umbrella knocked from his hands. A few of the nobles laugh, pointing at me, my dress soaked by mud and rain, my hair clinging to my face. As Shan pulls me up, Lord Liuming treads on his umbrella intentionally, breaking the frame. More laughter ripples from the watching group, their glee emanating in waves.

“Apologize.” Anger rakes deep, my hands clenched by my sides. Back home, Lord Liuming and his friend would already be face-first in the dirt.