Chapter 14: Hongye

The carriage rattled over the capital’s uneven cobblestones, rocking like a cradle. Rhode sprawled on the broad velvet seat, his head buzzing. It wasn’t motion sickness: his predecessor’s memories were passing before him like a slideshow.

The more he saw, the more uneasy he became. He wore the body of the empire’s Third Prince, an impressive title, but in reality it was a powder keg ready to explode.

His predecessor had spent his twenty-odd years drinking, gambling, whoring and indulging every vice, offending noblewomen and common girls across the capital. He had squandered tomorrow’s life on today’s pleasures.

Rhode rubbed his aching back and touched the dark circles beneath his eyes. This body was exhausted; if he carried on like this, even a cold might kill him.

The political danger was worse. Both older princes wanted to scheme against him, his imperial father regarded him as disposable, and the people of the capital cursed him behind his back. He was a walking target. If someone killed him, the empire would probably celebrate, and no one would avenge him.

*Stay alive.* He drew a deep breath and made it his guiding principle. *Only if I survive can I restore my health and find a foothold in this man-eating empire. The three beautiful elves are tempting, but pleasure can wait.*

He opened his eyes and looked around the carriage, trying to understand the people at his side. His gaze settled on Hongye, curled in the corner beneath the black velvet cloak. She held the trunk of outrageous implements tightly, chin resting on its edge, and stared out the window.

Memories surfaced. She had been trained as a royal maid and assigned to the former prince, who treated her abominably: summoned and dismissed at will, used to vent his emotions and satisfy his desires, subjected to perverse demands, beaten or cursed whenever he was displeased.

One would expect a servant to be terrified of such a master. Yet in the prison Hongye had mocked him openly and even answered back. Rhode studied her with interest.

She noticed and turned, her delicate face expressionless, her eyes still as dead water. “Why are you staring at me, Your Highness? Have you thought of a new way to torment me?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Hongye, I noticed something in the cell. You don’t seem afraid of me.”

She blinked. “Do you want me to act afraid?”

She met his gaze without flinching, merely drawing the cloak tighter. “I’m curious,” he said. “When I fell down the stairs this morning, you grabbed me and shook me. Your eyes were red and tears were all over your face. You looked terrified. Why are you so cold now?”

Her lashes lowered. She pulled the trunk higher in her lap, her voice devoid of warmth. “Did you think I was crying for you? I was crying for myself, and for my parents and younger brother in exile.”

Rhode stared, his fingers tapping his knee.

“You are the empire’s distinguished Third Prince.” She spoke slowly, each word sharp. “If you had died on the stairs for no apparent reason, the tribunal would never have spared your personal maid. They’d have tortured and hanged me. And under the empire’s laws of collective punishment, my parents and twelve-year-old brother, who are doing hard labor in the mines, would all be executed for failing to look after you.”

She looked up, exhaustion and resolve in her eyes. “I wasn’t afraid of your death. I was afraid you’d drag my whole family down with you. Do you understand?”

The air seemed to freeze. Rhode’s cheeks warmed. His predecessor’s sins were so great that even his death threatened an entire family. He coughed and leaned back.

“You’re bold,” he said, deliberately stern. “You dare say something so treasonous to my face? Aren’t you afraid I’ll throw you out of the carriage, or have you beaten to death when we get back?”

“Do as you please.” Hongye turned to the receding streets, her calm voice unsettling. “I’m so tired, Your Highness. Every day I fearfully cater to your disgusting tastes, and walk the streets dressed like this while people point at me. I can’t resist, and I can’t kill myself, because my family would die too. But now I truly don’t care.”

She faced him again, her eyes numb rather than fearful. “If you’re angry, you might as well kill me now. Then the tribunal could only blame me for offending you. My parents and brother might be spared. Go ahead.”

Rhode looked at the woman offering him her life and felt a tangle of emotions. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Hongye…” His voice softened, hesitant. “What if I let you go? Remove your slave status, give you money, and let you leave the capital to live your own life?”

Her eyes widened. For a few seconds surprise replaced the deadness in them; then it gave way to deeper scorn. “What new game is this? Let me go? Where could I go? I’m a convict. Without imperial identification, I’d be a runaway slave the moment I left the capital. Any guard could arrest me, sell me to the lowest brothel or execute me on the spot.”

She looked straight at him. “If you’re really so kind, just grant me a quick death.”

Rhode opened his mouth, words catching in his throat. He wanted to promise he would never force her again, that he would treat her well and become a good man. But he swallowed the promises.

The harm his predecessor had done, the humiliation and despair, were carved into her life. He had only just taken this body. What right did he have to expect a simple “I’ve changed” to erase everything she had endured? Playing the devoted good man and offering promises he might not be able to keep would be hypocrisy and a further insult to her suffering.

He closed his mouth and folded his hands on his knees. Words meant little against lasting harm. Only future actions could prove anything. Since she had nowhere to go, he would keep her near for now and at least ensure her safety.

He said nothing more, watching the commoners hurry along the street. A long silence settled over the carriage, broken only by the wheels on stone. Several blocks passed.

Hongye remained guarded, though she kept glancing at his face. She had prepared for fury or a beating, yet he had not become angry. Instead he had fallen into this strange silence. It wasn’t how the Third Prince should react. The violent, irritable man she knew would have whipped a lowly maid across the face for answering him so.

She frowned, fingers rubbing the clasp of the trunk. At last she broke the silence. “Your Highness… you’re a little different today.”

Rhode turned and raised an eyebrow, shifting in his seat. “Oh? How so?” he asked lightly.