CHAPTER 14: THE POISON IN THE TEA
Zhao Manor — My Room — The Next Morning
I didn't sleep.
Again.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw it:
LìXūn. Cup to his lips. Blood. Black. Mǐn screaming "You poisoned him!"
And the other one: Emperor Zhào Róng. Same blood. Same table. But he was already on the floor. Before LìXūn even drank.
Two poisons. One day.
Or... or I'm wrong. Please let me be wrong.
Mother was already there when I woke up. Sitting on the edge of my bed like she'd been there all night. "I sheathed my sword for her." Her eyes said she'd draw it before breakfast.
"You saw it," she said. Not a question.
She knows. Not about the visions. But about me. That I know things I shouldn't.
"The tea," I whispered. My voice was wrecked. Sixteen. Sound thirty. "With the Crown Prince. Today."
Mother's hand found mine. Callused. General's hand. "We don't go."
"We have to," I said. "Mǐn—"
Stop. Don't say it. Don't say 'Mǐn knows.' Because if Mother knows that Mǐn knows, Mother will...
Inner thought: She'll kill her. She'll actually kill a princess. And then Chányán will kill her. And then we're all dead.
"Princess Mǐn invited me," I said instead. Careful. So careful. "To talk. About... the Crown Prince. She wants me to reassure him. That I'm not... a threat."
Mother's eyes narrowed. Steel in silk. "Why does she care what you say to him?"
Because she thinks I want the throne. Through Chányán. Through a marriage that doesn't exist. Because she's scared. Because she saw me stop CǎiYún and thinks I'm playing a game.
She's right about the scared part.
"I don't know," I lied. Good girl. Keep lying. "But if I don't go, she'll... be angry. At the Su family. At Aunt."
Mother was quiet. Then: "Eat."
She pushed a bowl of congee at me. It looks like clouds. Clouds don't poison princes.
A knock.
Zhào YìChén stuck his head in. No wine flask. Eyes red. Not from drinking. From not sleeping. "Lazy wolves still bite." He hadn't been lazy. He'd been at Han Manor all night with Chányán.
"Mǐn's here," he said. "And... yeah."
Yeah.
Inner thought: He means LìXūn. He doesn't say his name. Because saying 'the Crown Prince is here for your daughter' sounds like treason. Or a proposal. Both get people killed.
Zhao Manor — Front Hall
Crown Prince Zhào LìXūn was twenty.
And pretty.
Inner thought: Objectively. Like a painting. High cheekbones, soft mouth, eyes that go all crinkly when he smiles. Which he was doing. At me. Nervously.
This is bad.
"Lady Hán," he said. Bowed. Not deep. He's the sun. But he bowed. "Sister said you... you like southern pastries? I brought some. From the palace."
He held out a lacquered box. Hands shaking.
He's nervous. The ICE PRINCE is nervous. Of me.
Inner thought: He shouldn't be. I'm the one who should be nervous. I'm the one who saw him die.
"Your Highness," I said. Curtsied. Don't wobble. Don't faint. Don't scream 'don't drink anything I touch.' "You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," he said. Fast. Then flushed. He actually blushed. Pink. On the sun. "Mǐn says you're... different. From the others."
Inner thought: Different how? Different 'doesn't want to marry you' or different 'sees your death in a teacup'?
Princess Mǐn stood behind him. No notebook today. Hands folded. Smiling Diplomat wasn't smiling. She was watching me. Only she knows. Only she knows what I am. 'The Su girl. The one with visions.'
"Shall we take tea?" Mǐn said. Light. Casual. Like she didn't threaten me last night. Like she didn't say 'Talk to him or I tell everyone.'
Inner thought: This is the test. This is the tea from the vision. This is where I pour. Where he drinks. Where he dies.
Unless I break it.
Zhao Manor — Side Garden
One pot. Three cups.
Mine. His. Hers.
Inner thought: Okay. Logic. If the poison's in the pot, we all die. If it's in a cup, it's his. Or mine. But the vision... I pour. He drinks. From the cup I pour.
So don't pour.
But Mǐn's hand is already on the pot.
"I... I don't do this often," LìXūn said. Sitting across from me. So close. Too close. "Talk. Like this. Without... court. Without people listening."
He's twenty. He's been Crown Prince since five. When has anyone ever just talked to him?
"I don't either," I said. True. "Without someone telling me I'm improper."
He laughed. Real. The crinkle showed up.
Inner thought: Stop. Stop noticing the crinkle. He's the Crown Prince. You're the girl who gets called 'Han filth with Su blood.' This isn't a spring festival. This is a murder waiting to happen.
"You told my uncle about Hán Míng," he said. Suddenly quiet. "Last night. He rode out."
Mǐn told him.
"I had a bad feeling," I said. Weakest lie in history.
He nodded. Like it made sense. "Uncle said... he said you have good instincts."
Inner thought: Chányán said that? About me? To HIM?
He didn't say 'she's brave.' He didn't say 'she's kind.' He said 'she's stupid but her instincts are fine.'
Why does that make my chest hurt? In a... not bad way?
No. Stop. He thinks you're a tool. 'The tiger guards its own. Even when they're stupid.' That's all.
"He did?" I said. Voice went up. Traitor.
"He said 'she's stupid but her instincts are fine,'" LìXūn said. Then winced. "Sorry. That—"
"No," I said. And laughed. It hurt. But it was real. "That sounds like him."
Cold. Fair. No time for romance. No room for it. Just facts.
Inner thought: And for some reason, that's... steadier than LìXūn's smile. Why?
LìXūn laughed too. Relief. Like I'd passed a test.
"See?" Mǐn said. Picked up the pot. Her hand. Her move. "You get along. No need for... tension."
She poured. My cup first. Then his. Then hers.
Same pot. Same liquid. So if it's poisoned, we all go. Unless...
Unless she coated the cup. Before. His cup. Or mine.
The vision said I pour. He drinks mine.
But she poured.
Does that change it?
"So," LìXūn said. Reached for his cup. My heart stopped. "Mǐn says... you and my uncle. Is it...?"
He can't say it. 'Are you together.'
Inner thought: Oh no. He thinks there's something. He thinks Chányán likes me. He thinks he has to compete with the Little Dragon. For me.
"No!" I said. Too loud. Too fast. Very cool, JiāYì. "No. He called me stupid. To my face. Last night. In front of everyone."
LìXūn blinked.
Then: "Oh."
Then: "OH!"
He laughed. Big. Free. Like a weight fell off. "Good. Good. Because I... I don't want to fight him. For you. Or the throne."
He said it. 'For you.'
Inner thought: He's twenty. He's the sun. And he just told me he doesn't want to fight his uncle over a girl. Over me.
Fourth problem: That's... sweet. And it's going to get us both killed. Because Chányán doesn't do 'sweet.' He does 'end it.'
"I just want to be friends," LìXūn said. Soft. Earnest. God, he's earnest. "Is that... okay?"
He's holding the cup. About to drink.
The vision. Now.
Inner thought: Say something. Anything. Be stupid. Be crazy. Be anything but quiet.
"You shouldn't," I blurted.
He froze. "What?"
"Drink that," I said. Heart hammering. This is it. This is where Mǐn calls me mad. "I... I have a bad feeling. Again."
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Mǐn's head snapped up. Mask slipped. Just for a second. Surprise? Anger?
LìXūn frowned. "A bad feeling?"
Inner thought: Say it's the tea. Say it's chipped. Say it's anything but 'I saw you die.'
"The pot," I said. Lame. So lame. "It's... it's chipped. At the rim. Bad luck. My mother says—"
LìXūn looked at the pot. No chip.
Looked at me.
And smiled. Sad. Knowing.
"You're trying to protect me," he said. Not a question.
He knows. He doesn't know how. But he knows I'm not lying. I'm scared.
Fifth problem: He trusts me. And I might still get him killed.
He set the cup down. Didn't drink.
Mǐn stood. Too fast. "Well. If the tea is bad luck, we shouldn't—"
"Don't."
Cold. Fair. No time for romance.
Zhào Chányán was at the garden entrance.
He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at the Ministry. Dismantling the Han name.
He looked at the table. At the pot. At LìXūn's untouched cup. At my face. Pale. Guilty. Terrified.
At Mǐn. Hand on the pot. About to dump it.
"Don't," he said again.
One word. The whole garden stopped breathing.
Mǐn's hand froze.
Chányán walked forward. Picked up LìXūn's cup. Sniffed it.
Inner thought: He's going to smell it. He's going to know. He's going to look at me and say 'I will end you myself.'
He didn't look at me.
He looked at Mǐn.
"Explain," he said. Sees lies. Always.
Mǐn opened her mouth.
The gate bells rang.
One toll. Urgent.
Zhào YìChén sprinted in. Face white. Again.
"Ge," he said to Chányán. "Dragon Rest Palace. The Emperor..."
No.
"He collapsed," YìChén said. "After court. Black blood. Doctors say..."
Poison.
But he didn't drink with us. He drank this morning.
Two cups. Two attempts. Same day.
Chányán's eyes went to LìXūn. Then to me. Then to the cup in his hand.
"Seal the garden," he said to YìChén. Order. Not ask. "No one leaves. No one touches that pot."
He looked at Mǐn. Winter.
"You. With me. Now."
He walked past me. Didn't stop. Didn't speak.
But his sleeve brushed my arm.
And I heard it. Barely there. For me only.
"Good instincts."
Two words.
Inner thought: Why does that feel better than when LìXūn called me 'different'? Why does 'good instincts' from him feel like... like he sees me?
Stop. He doesn't. He sees a tool. A weapon that points the right way. That's all.
...Right?
LìXūn was staring at me. Scared. But not of me.
"JiāYì," he whispered. "You... you saved me."
No. Chányán did. By showing up.
Or did I? By being 'stupid' and saying the tea was bad luck?
I don't know.