by Natasha Ngan
I drop my eyes, bunching my hands at my sides. “It wasn’t enough. Not that night.”
Even though Wren has made it clear she’s willing to listen, I still haven’t spoken to her about what happened in the King’s chambers. I’d been close a few times, lying in her arms in one of our rooms, wrapped safely in the velvet darkness. But my thoughts never seemed to form into a language I could share. The only time we touched on it was the first time I was to see the King after that night, at a dinner a week later. She’d asked me how I felt; if maybe I wanted to feign sickness to try to get out of it. That she’d help me do the same if he called for me again. But somehow I know he won’t.
At least, not for a while.
The King likes to prove his power, yes. But he’s shown me his insecurities enough times for me to know that he also wants to be adored and admired. And he knows that those are two things he can never force from me.
Wren twines her fingers through mine, my numb skin tingling at their warmth. “You’re stronger now,” she says. “You’re prepared. And you’re not in this alone.” She squeezes my hand. “Do you remember the day of the Unveiling Ceremony? Our maids got us ready together, and afterward you asked me—”
“How I looked,” I interrupt dully. “I remember.”
She loosens a long exhale, wrapping us in a cloud of hazy white. “I’m sorry for what I said then. I was so adamant when I first got here to not let any of you in. To not let any of you want to.” She pulls me closer. “But when I saw you later in your dress, I couldn’t help it. I had to tell you what I thought, because I understood then.”
My brow furrows. “Understood what?”
Wren smiles. “You. The dresses were made to represent us based on the results of our assessments,” she explains. “Mine was everything I’ve been trained to be. Strong, without compromise. Unforgiving. I knew what yours meant the minute I saw you. Your dress showed me that you had strength, but softness, too. A sense of loyalty, but not without fairness. Fight, and mercy. Things I wasn’t allowed to feel. Things I didn’t know how badly I needed.” She brings her fingertips to my cheeks, lacing them through the tangles of my hair. “I knew from that moment that I would fall in love with you. And for a long time, I did everything I could to resist it. But you made it impossible.”
With a sigh, I tuck my chin, nestling into her. Her heart thuds strong and steady against my cheek.
“Lei,” she says softly into my hair, “we can do this another night if you’re not up to it.…”
“No,” I say, drawing back. “Now.”
Gathering a long inhale, I picture all the memories associated with that night with the King turning into little knives in my veins.
Fire in, fear out.
My hands bunch into fists. “All right—come at me.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when she leaps back. With a spin, she slices the side of her hand toward my middle. This time, I’m a little better prepared. I manage to jolt out of the way, though she comes for me again a beat later and has to hold back, her open palm seconds away from cuffing my shoulder.
“Give me a chance!” I say, panting, but Wren moves again, this time lashing out for me with her leg.
She arcs it in a low sweep along the floor, catching my feet, and I fall back, letting out a puff of air as I land heavily on the mossy ground.
She rolls on top of me.
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me!” I groan.
She flashes a smile. “I only did that so I could do this.”
Her mouth lowers to mine. A familiar heat fizzes along my veins as we kiss, tongue to tongue, lips to lips, our arms laced around each other. I slowly forget about the frozen ground beneath me, the eerie sounds of the forest replaced by the rustle of our clothes and bodies as we cling to each other, our kiss deepening.
Though flashes of that night still come to me every time Wren and I have touched since, and she’s been careful to only take it further when I’ve made it clear that’s what I want, there’s something slightly different about our intimacy now. Still, each time it gets a little easier to stay in the moment, and right now I allow myself to let go. To lose myself in lips and sensation and heat and love.
We’re both panting when we finally draw apart.
“Does every shifu do this with their students?” I say, breathless. “If so, then sign me up.”
Wren gets to her feet, holding out a hand to help me up. “I can give you as many lessons as you like when we’re out of here. But for now, we need to concentrate. I did that to get you fired up. To remind you how naturally you can move your body. You need to home in on that same passion when fighting.” Then she’s lashing at me again, spinning round with a high arc of her leg.
I flail back a split-second before impact. “Aiyah! At least go easy on me.”
She doesn’t smile. “I am.”
Forty minutes later—though it feels like hundreds—I’m doubled over, gasping for air, a stitch winding up one side. I’ve just managed to counter one of Wren’s attacks properly for the first time, ducking out of the way of her right leg as it kicked high toward my head, and knocking into her with my shoulder. It barely shifts her, and she lands easily. But still. It’s a hit.
“That was great!” she says. “Really good!”
“Thanks,” I mutter between gulps of air.
Wren closes the gap between us. She tugs my face up, smiling. “I mean it, Lei. You’re so much stronger than I could ever be.”
I roll my eyes. “What are you talking about? You’re the warrior.”
“Only because it’s all I’ve known. I’ve grown up learning this, how to fight and be brave. You’ve had to find it within yourself, all on your own. That’s real courage.” She looks away, her voice growing quiet. “You know, it’s not too late to back out. I’d understand.”
I slide my arms around her waist. “Well, I wouldn’t. I’m in this now, Wren. I’m all in.”
Her eyes flick back to me, widening—warming—with the double meaning behind my words. I love you. The phrase hovers on my lips then, three words, three simple trips of the tongue. But ever since that night when we first admitted how we felt, I still haven’t spoken them to her. However brave Wren believes me to be, I’m not yet brave enough for that. So instead I press my mouth against hers, hoping she can sense the words in my kiss and know that I mean them, that I love her and need her, and that I’m terrified for these weeks to end because our lives are about to change forever. And some part of me can’t shake the premonition that it’s not going to be in the way we’re hoping.
THIRTY-TWO
PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW YEAR begin the day before the Moon Ball.
As soon as we wake, we’re herded into carriages and taken to a bathhouse in Royal Court. It’s an impressive four stories, a large central room divided into various areas, the upper tiers circled with balconies decorated with colored silks. I pick up familiar scents in the clouds of steam—calendula, mulberry, passionflower. Homesickness tugs so firmly on my soul that it actually hurts. I could close my eyes and I’d be back there, working in the shop with Baba and Tien, Bao barking and the mixing pots bubbling away.
By some unwritten rule, Wren and I haven’t discussed what will happen after we escape. It would be too much like tempting fate, and from the way the gods have played with me so far, that’s not a bet I’m willing to make. But alongside being with Wren, the only thing I really want is to go back to Xienzo and reunite with my family. Maybe we could even make a life there with them. Our little unit has been shattered so many times, but we’ve proven we have the strength to heal. To make something new and beautiful from the sum of our broken parts.
We’re led to an enormous tub in the middle of the bathhouse. Water pours in from a waterfall-like feature, filling the air with its rich bubbling. Three black-robed royal shamans bless the water. Then, one by one, we step inside as they chant a dao, settling a soft, golden magic on our skin. The ceremony is to symbolize purific
ation, helping us shed this year’s sins before we enter the new one.
I stifle a grim laugh when it’s my turn. If only they knew what Wren and I are planning. The only thing this bath is helping me shed is the ache in my muscles from our midnight training sessions.
Back at Paper House, we spend the next few hours having meetings with the court’s most trusted fortune-tellers, qi doctors, and diviners. The New Year marks the halfway point in our year as Paper Girls. The results of these assessments will shape our training next year as we prepare to move from being the King’s concubines to our next roles in the palace. Or in Wren’s case and mine, they would have, were we staying in the palace.
I cross Wren in the corridor as our maids lead us between rooms for the final assessment of the day. She gives me a knowing smile that lights my heart up in an instant. As we pass she turns her hand so it brushes against mine, almost like a kiss.
By the time our assessments are over, night has fallen. The grounds are cloaked in darkness, the stars hidden. As Lill changes me for dinner, I gaze out the window, an uneasy feeling rippling through me.
Tomorrow.
That’s it. Just one more day.
“Are you all right, Mistress?” Lill asks, fixing an ornament in my hair with deft fingers.
I shrug. “Just nervous for tomorrow’s ball, I guess.”
“Well, don’t be. I heard the King has arranged a surprise for you!”
Despite her grin, her words make me cold. It’s the worst possible time for surprises. Whatever the King’s organized, I’m sure I won’t like it. The only thing we have in common is that we both defend what’s ours, and tomorrow night I’m going to prove it to him.
When I arrive at Madam Himura’s suite twenty minutes later, one of her maids leads me out into the courtyard. A canopy of twinkling lights stretches overhead. At the center of the garden, the pavilion has been hung with heavy velvet curtains to keep out the cold. As I step inside, my eyes sweep the group for Wren. She isn’t here yet. Instead, Aoki catches my eyes. She looks a bit panicked, and she opens her lips to mouth something at me, but before she’s able to, Madam Himura waves me to a seat next to Blue.
“Now that we’re all here,” the eagle-woman says in her usual croak, “I want to go over tomorrow’s proceedings. In the morning—”
“Aren’t we waiting for Wren?” I interrupt.
The table falls quiet.
Madam Himura’s head swivels in my direction. “We,” she responds sharply with a flash of her bright yellow eyes, “are not waiting for anyone.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Wren-zhi has had to leave the palace.”
My stomach gives a dull kick. The ground seems to take a careening slope underneath me. A high-pitched ringing enters my brain.
“Her mother has been killed,” Madam Himura continues. “The King has ordered her to return to her family. It’s uncertain when she’ll be returning.”
I gape at her. “What?”
Just then, Aoki jerks forward, knocking a glass of plum wine to the floor. Half of it splashes onto Chenna, who jolts back with a cry. A maid rushes over to clean the mess as Madam Himura shrieks at Aoki and Zhen, who was next to Chenna, who yanks the hem of her dress away from the spreading amber puddle. Amid the chaos, I breathe raggedly. My heart hammers painfully against my ribs. I know Aoki was trying to stop me before I said something that would have given me away or Madam Himura punished me for insolence, but though the rest of the girls are focused on the fuss at the table, next to me, Blue is still.
She watches me from the corner of her ink-black eyes. There’s a knowing twist to her lips, and after a few moments she leans in close, cheek grazing mine, and hisses, just for me to hear, “So that’s your dirty little secret. Won’t the King be shocked to learn what you’ve been up to all this time?”
I don’t know how I make it through dinner. Somehow I manage it, though I almost throw up a few times, and not from the raw fish we’re served as part of more tiring New Year purification symbolism. As soon as Madam Himura permits us to leave, I get up from the table without meeting any of the girls’ questioning looks and stagger back to my room.
“What’s wrong?” Lill asks as I burst through the doorway, shaking.
I don’t answer her. I lurch to the window and collapse against it, gulping in breaths, but the air is clotted, like curdled milk, and no matter how much I gasp I can’t seem to fill my lungs. Lill tries her best to calm me. When nothing she says or does works, she even brings me a cup of sweet, milky teh tarik from the kitchens, but the sugar just spikes my nerves.
When she finally manages to get me to lie down, I’m shivering all over. “Please try to rest, Mistress,” she pleads. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just a ball.”
I close my eyes, feigning tiredness. But the minute she’s gone, I shove back the blankets and get to my feet, pacing the short length of my room.
One more day. That’s all that was left. One more day to keep our secrets. One more day and we were out of here.
We were going to be free.
Now Wren is gone, and all the years of careful planning and preparation have been ruined in just a handful of hours. And Blue—Blue—knows about the two of us. She could tell the King any moment now and that would be it. All my actions with him would confirm it. He’d know. He’d know, and my beautiful, ferocious-eyed assassin won’t be around to take him down before he can punish us for it.
A thought comes to me, so painful I actually gag.
The next time I see Wren could be at our own execution.
I recall the last time I saw her. The brush of our hands in the corridor, just a second of contact. How can that go down as our last moment together? How can that be our last touch?
My room is too suffocating to stay in any longer. Without Wren here, I go to the room of the only other person in the palace I fully trust.
Aoki rubs her eyes as I shake her awake. “Lei?” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep,” I say.
Yawning, she sits up and opens her fur blanket. She drapes it around my shoulders as I nestle in beside her. She smells like sleep, like softness and safety, and I release a long exhale, leaning against her in silence. It reminds me of when I used to snuggle in with my parents when I had a nightmare. The thought that just a few hours ago I was so hopeful that I’d make it home lances me afresh, and I grind my teeth together to stop the tears.
Aoki wraps her arms round her legs, propping her cheek on her knees to look sideways at me. “I’m so sorry about Wren’s mother. Do you know if they were close?”
It takes me a moment to untangle her question from Wren’s original Xia family. She’s talking about the Hannos, of course.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. Wren has always spoken far more about Ketai Hanno than his wife. “I don’t think so.”
“Still, it must be awful.” After a beat, she goes on carefully, “The King is close with the Hannos. I’m sure he’ll do everything to look after Wren and her family.”
“They’re Paper castes, Aoki.”
“And still one of his most trusted clans. You know, he even gave them a special guard made up of his own soldiers?”
“Maybe one of those guards was the killer,” I snap before I can stop it.
Aoki winces. “I know you’re upset, but what you’re saying is—”
“Possible? Likely?”
“The King and the Hannos have always supported each other, Lei. Why would they turn on each other now?”
Because maybe the King suspects what the Hannos are planning. Maybe Wren’s mother was murdered by the King’s men to send a message to them. Or maybe, if he believes Wren to be involved, he had her mother killed as a way of getting her out of the palace. A death in the family is one of the only reasons a Paper Girl is allowed to take leave.
But I keep my thoughts to myself.
I walk out of Aoki
’s room half an hour later, feeling even worse than before. My mind is reeling, and I’m so distracted I don’t notice the figure in my room until it’s too late.
A fur-covered hand clamps across my mouth.
“Not a word,” growls a low, husky voice.
THIRTY-THREE
KENZO DOESN’T LET ME GO until we’re outside, cloaked in the darkness of the gardens. His bronze eyes fix on my own as he glares down at me, waiting as I gulp in air, recovering. Our breaths spiral in the frozen air. It takes me a moment to notice that he’s wearing silk robes, his marbled wolf’s coat combed and slick. He must have come straight from the King’s pre–Moon Ball banquet.
“You scared me!” I hiss at him once I’m able to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he says, though his expression remains hard. “It was the only way I could get you alone. I was meant to meet Wren to finalize the plans for tomorrow. Then I heard the news. I waited as long as I could before coming to find you.”
I blink. “Find… me?”
“The plan has to go ahead, Lei. Wren won’t be able to return in time, but everything else is ready. You are going to have to kill the King in her place.”
There’s a pause.
Then I laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am deadly serious,” he replies, a growl deep in his throat.
“Look,” I say, lifting my hands and taking a step back, “I want to help, but—”
“You didn’t expect to have to get your hands dirty?”
My mouth snaps shut. “I didn’t expect to be the one to do it. Last time I checked I wasn’t a lost member of the Xia trained since birth to be a secret warrior-assassin-goddess.”
Wind catches my hair, making it dance. I clutch my night robe tighter around me. The air is as frosted as the ground, and the flimsy material of my nightdress isn’t much protection from the cold. But Kenzo doesn’t seem to notice. I suppose having fur makes you forget how vulnerable bare skin can be.