CHAPTER 13: THE PRICE OF A LIE
Zhao Manor — My Room — Midnight
Princess Zhào Mǐn didn't sit.
She didn't ask if she could come in.
She just stood in my doorway, looking at me like I was a math problem she'd already solved. Smiling Diplomat. Except she wasn't smiling.
"Your brother's alive," she said. Not a question. "Hán Chén pulled him out."
She knows already. Of course she does. She has people everywhere.
"How?" I asked. My voice was still wrecked from screaming. Realistic. Sixteen-year-olds don't sound cool after nightmares.
"How did I know?" Mǐn tilted her head. "Or how did you?"
Ah. There it is.
Mother was behind me, hand on my shoulder. "I sheathed my sword for her." She didn't speak. But her grip said "say nothing."
Too late.
"I guessed," I said. Lie. But a good one. "MěiLíng hates me. Míng likes me. She'd use him to hurt me. It's what she does."
Mǐn studied me. One second. Two.
Then she nodded. "Smart guess."
She doesn't believe me. But she's letting it go. For now.
"Why did you help me?" I asked. "At the palace. You lied for me."
"I didn't lie," Mǐn said. "I omitted. Diplomats don't lie. We just... choose which truths to say out loud."
She finally stepped in. Closed the door.
"My brother," she said. Crown Prince LìXūn. "Is twenty. He's the sun. All other stars should dim, remember?"
The Empress's words.
"He's also terrified," Mǐn said. "Because Father just locked up his mother. Exiled his grandmother's maid. And made his grandfather kneel."
Oh.
"He thinks he's next," Mǐn said. "He thinks the Zhao uncles are clearing the board. For him. Or for someone else."
She looked at me. Really looked.
"You're the Su girl," she said. "The one with visions."
My blood went cold.
Mother's hand turned to iron on my shoulder.
"I don't—"
"Don't," Mǐn cut me off. Gentle. "Don't lie to me, Hán JiāYì. I saw your face in that pavilion. You weren't scared of tea. You were scared of exactly what was going to happen. Before it happened."
She saw too much.
"My brother needs to know," Mǐn said. "Not if you're a seer. He needs to know if you're a threat. To him."
There's the price.
"You want me to spy," I said. Flat. I'm learning from Chányán.
"I want you to talk," Mǐn said. "To him. One conversation. You tell him you're not after his throne. You tell him you see Chányán as a brother, not a... husband."
Brother. Husband. She said it so casual. Like it was an option.
Chányán would throw me in a river if he heard that.
"He's twenty," Mǐn kept going. "He's scared. He's heard the rumors. 'Su blood in Zhao skin. The Regent Prince guards her. Gives her jade.' He thinks..."
She hesitated. First real emotion I've seen from her.
"He thinks Chányán wants the throne. Through you."
What?
No. Chányán doesn't want the throne. He wants order. He wants sleep. He wants people to stop being stupid.
"He doesn't," I said. Before I could stop myself.
Mǐn's eyes sharpened. "You sound sure."
Because I am. Because I've seen him in visions. He's never on the throne. He's always in front of it. With a sword. Pointed at everyone else.
"Talk to him," Mǐn said again. "Tomorrow. Tea. No court. No guards. Just you, him, me. If you don't..."
She didn't finish.
She didn't have to.
If I don't, she tells the Emperor I'm a seer. And the vision I had of him poisoned? That becomes motive.
"Okay," I said.
Mother's grip hurt.
"Okay," I said again. Louder. "Tomorrow."
Mǐn nodded. Finally smiled. Tiny. Diplomat got her deal.
She left.
Mother turned me around. "JiāYì. You can't—"
"I have to," I said. "If I don't, she talks. If she talks, Chányán kills me himself. 'I will end you myself.' Remember?"
Mother closed her eyes. Steel in silk, and silk tears too.
Han Manor — One Hour Ago
The fire was out.
Most of it.
Hán Chén sat on the steps, holding Hán Míng. The kid was coughing, covered in soot, but alive. "Big Sister JiāYì smells like medicine." He smelled like smoke now.
Lián'er was next to them, wrapping a burn on her arm. She'd gone back in for Míng when Chén shouted. "I didn't choose this cage." Tonight, she chose to run into it.
Hán Lì was screaming at city guards. "Father says I'll be Prime Minister one day!" Right now he was just a boy yelling at firemen.
Hán MěiLíng was gone.
Hán ZhìXuān was on his knees in the courtyard. Not praying. Just... empty. Bottle next to him. "I own the court. Why don't I own respect?"
Because respect doesn't burn, old man.
Hooves.
Zhào Chányán rode through the gate like a storm. No announcement. No permission. Cold. Fair. No time for romance.
Zhào YìChén was right behind him. Sword out. "Lazy wolves still bite."
Chányán didn't look at the fire. Didn't look at Han ZhìXuān.
He looked at Chén. Holding Míng.
"You," Chányán said. Not a question.
Hán Chén looked up. Didn't stand. Didn't bow. "My father owns the court. I own my name."
"I know," Chén said. Voice hoarse from smoke.
"Who," Chányán said.
Chén's eyes flicked to the manor. To the empty space where MěiLíng should be.
"MěiLíng," he said. No hesitation. He chose. "She had oil. She went to Míng's room. Lián'er stopped her. Then the fire started anyway."
He gave her up. His sister. To save his brother.
Chányán nodded once. Ledger entry. Confirmed.
He turned to Han ZhìXuān.
"Prime Minister," Chányán said. Not anymore. But he used the title anyway. Cruel. "Your daughter tried to murder your son."
Han ZhìXuān looked up. Drunk. Broken. "She... she wouldn't..."
"She would," Chén said. Quiet. "She did."
Chányán walked to Míng. Knelt. He didn't touch him. Just looked.
"You're Hán Míng," Chányán said.
Míng nodded, still coughing. "You're... the Regent Prince."
"You pulled him out?" Chányán asked Chén.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Chén blinked. Like it was a stupid question. "He's eleven."
That's it. That's the whole reason. He's eleven.
Chányán stared at him for three heartbeats. Assessing. Measuring. Same way he looked at me at the gate.
Then he stood.
"YìChén," he said. "Take them. All three. To Zhao Manor. Now."
What?
YìChén blinked. "Ge. They're Han—"
"They're witnesses," Chányán said. Cold. Strategy. "And the boy's a victim. Zhao guards victims. Even stupid ones."
He called Míng stupid. He's calling me stupid by proxy. God, he's consistent.
"What about her?" YìChén jerked his chin at the manor. "MěiLíng?"
Chányán's eyes went to the fire.
"If she's in there," he said, "let her burn. If she's not... we'll find her."
No 'bring her to me.' No 'I'll deal with her.' Just... 'if she's not dead, she will be.'
He turned to Han ZhìXuān.
"Your seal," Chányán said. "Your house. Your fire. The Ministry of Punishment will be here at dawn."
He mounted his horse.
"JiāYì said you'd do this," he said to Han ZhìXuān. Last thing. Lie. I didn't. But Chányán just made it true. "She was right."
Then he rode out.
Han ZhìXuān made a sound. Like a dog kicked to death.
Zhao Manor — Now
Zhào Chányán walked into my room without knocking. Again.
I was still on the floor where Mother left me.
He saw Mǐn was gone. Saw my face.
"Han Manor burned," he said. Report. Not comfort. "Míng is alive. Chén pulled him out. Lián'er too. They're on their way here."
He's telling me. Not asking. Because I'm Zhao now. Asset column.
"MěiLíng?" I asked.
"Missing," he said. "If she's smart, she'll stay that way."
Translation: if I find her, I kill her.
He was quiet for a second.
"You told me," he said. Not a question. "About the fire. Before it happened."
Here it comes. "I will end you myself."
I braced.
"Good," he said.
What?
"Next time," he said, cold, fair, duty, "tell me sooner. So I don't have to ride so fast."
He turned to leave.
"Regent Prince," I said. My voice broke. I'm sixteen. I just almost got a kid killed. I'm allowed to break.
He stopped.
"Thank you," I said. "For Míng."
He didn't turn around.
"Don't thank me," he said. "Thank your brother. He had the spine to pull him out. I just had the horses to get there."
He won't take credit. He won't give comfort. He just... does the job.
He left.
I sat there.
Then the vision hit.
Not the Emperor. Not Míng.
Crown Prince LìXūn. Tomorrow. Tea with me. Smiling. Nervous. "So... you and my uncle. Is it...?"
Me, choking. "What? No! He called me stupid!"
LìXūn, laughing, relieved. "Good. Good. Because I... I don't want to fight him. For you. Or the throne."
Then LìXūn, taking a sip of tea. My cup. The one I poured.
Then LìXūn, coughing. Blood. Black.
Then Mǐn, screaming. "You poisoned him! You seer! You want Chányán on the throne!"
The vision ended.
Oh god.
The poison isn't for the Emperor. It's for LìXūn. Tomorrow. At the tea I'm forced to go to.
And I'll pour it.