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Something flickers in my heart, yet recoils. Even if I wanted this… I wouldn’t want to be one of many. And while I don’t know if I wish to stay—I’m not yet ready to leave.

“Who wouldn’t be happy in the Palace of Nine Hills?” I reply evasively.

“Happiness means something different to each of us. Find your happiness, fight for it, hold on to it.” She adds, “If you want my brother, you should let him know. Don’t leave your future in another’s hands; they won’t guard it with as much care.”

“Your Highness is wise.” It’s not empty praise. I respect her affection for her brother, her attempts to smooth his path.

“Is it because we agree?”

“Maybe we’re both wise,” I tell her, and she laughs.

Away from the main square, we pass dark buildings and silent courtyards, then a garden of ancient trees with gnarled roots. There are more guards in this part of the palace, though all seems quiet. As we duck beneath a thick canopy of vines—a narrow corridor stretches ahead, just high enough to walk through unbowed.

We emerge by an iron gate closely guarded by soldiers. As the mark on my finger pulses forcefully, I clench my hand to numb it. The soldiers bow to Princess Chunlei, opening the gate at once. Her attendants and guards remain outside as the princess and I are escorted through the gate, along a narrow path that cuts through a thicket of trees, into a low building. It is bare within, just stark walls, and a stairway lit by a solitary lantern that leads below, spiraling deep into the earth. I clasp my hands to stop their trembling as I follow the princess down. The farther we descend, the thicker the darkness that sheathes us, the more the walls seem to constrict all around until it feels like being buried alive. The stillness here isn’t of tranquility but the desolation of despair.

“What is this place?” I ask, eager to break the silence.

“Few are allowed in the Shadow Wing; only the guards who are always stationed here and those trusted by my brother.”

No wonder Jin couldn’t find this place, concealed beneath the palace itself. And even if he found it, there’s no way he could enter without discovery.

The steps end in an empty room that opens to a wide corridor. It branches out into several pathways and is flanked by over a dozen doors, soldiers patrolling around. The sour stench of sweat pervades the air alongside the dampness of mold. A few lanterns are strung up, casting their watery light on the dirt-encrusted floor. Every now and again, muffled cries puncture the silence, keen with anguish.

The princess walks ahead, halting by a door of weathered wood. The guard unlatches it, pushing it open. Anli is chained to a wooden post, facing away from the soldier beside her—a stocky man wielding a whip. Her shoulders are hunched, the back of her dress shredded and stained with blood, sweat-drenched hair falling over her face. She is shivering, weeping softly with each breath like she no longer has the strength to scream.

My stomach roils violently. As the soldier raises the whip again, Princess Chunlei moves into the cell. “Stop,” she orders.

The soldier drops his arm at once, lowering himself in a hasty bow. “Your Highness, her punishment is a royal command,” he stammers. “The chief attendant—”

“If the chief attendant protests, send him to me.” Her face is a stony mask of authority, her tone as imperious as her brother’s.

The blood splattered on the floor, the girl’s torn flesh, the stench of suffering in this cell… my nails dig into my palms. It’s like a mirror has cracked, fragmenting the perfect reflection. The dream of the palace is morphing into a nightmare, and the prince within it into a beast.

As the soldier unfastens Anli’s chains, she scrambles to a corner, throwing her arms across her knees. Her sleeves slide down to reveal more welts, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.

Princess Chunlei touches her shoulder. “You have nothing to fear now; you are under my protection.” Her gaze flicks toward the soldiers. “No one is to lay another hand on her. I will send a carriage for her soon.”

The soldiers clasp their hands, muttering their swift assent.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Anli whispers, her voice raw.

I take her other hand, cold and damp. She doesn’t know me, but her fingers clutch mine with a desperation that pierces my heart. If only I could help her—and it’s fortunate the princess can. Her grip only loosens when Princess Chunlei rises and gestures to me.

As we leave the cell, the princess’s body droops. “I wish I could do more.”

“You helped her. You got them to stop,” I remind her.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

The people in the villages mostly complain about the royals, their ambition and greed. But tonight, I’ve seen another side of power—that it can be used for good too, not just to inflict suffering.

“We must return. I have to arrange a safe place for Anli,” Princess Chunlei tells me as we reach the small room with the stairs.

I’m impatient to head above, where the wind blows in my face and the air is fresh. Yet to accept Jin’s offer, I have to learn what he seeks. This creature must be in the Shadow Wing, and I may not get the chance to return.

I press a fist to my forehead, keeping my breaths shallow. “Your Highness, I feel faint; I can’t climb the stairs now. Could I rest here, then make my way back?” When she hesitates, I add, “I don’t want to delay your preparations for Anli.”

“Would you like an escort?” she offers, glancing at the soldiers behind us.