The head shadow left soon after, having been summoned by the emperor.

  ‘You’re terrified of her,’ Xi Yu said. ‘What happened?’

  ‘…I don’t know,’ Three said. ‘But she did something, and now I’m scared.’ She forced a ugh and said, ‘She always scares me shitless.’

  The princess lifted a spoon, pressing it to her lips. ‘What do you mean?’

  She took a bite, the soft, slightly spicy wontons blossomed in her mouth. Xi Yu fed her another. She mumbled, ‘When I was sixteen, I found out what being a shadow guard really meant, so I asked the young miss to run away with me after my sve contract expired. But she lied — she reported me and killed the st Three, hastening my Ripening Ceremony. We thought she’d be the next Head Shadow, but…’

  ‘She was also a candidate.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Three swallowed and took the bowl of wontons from the princess. ‘After I Ripened, I was punished.’

  She was ‘trained’ again for a half a year.

  Locked in a dark, bck room. A chain around her neck, her feet. Every single day, the Head Shadow would give her orders — to sit, to stand, to kneel, to eat, to walk. Everything was id out for her, every decision made on her behalf, from how many steps to take to how many mouthfuls of rice she could eat.

  After that, she finally realised the uselessness of fighting fate and let it choke her to death.

  ‘Regardless, it’s all in the past,’ she said, leaning back, ‘and that’s just how my life is.’

  ‘Ah-Liu,’ Xi Yu whispered, ‘why do you always take this suffering for a matter of course?’

  ‘Is it not?’ She finished off the pork wontons and pced it back on the table, reaching for a bowl of mutton noodles. ‘I’m a shadow guard. That’s what shadow guards do. It’s just a matter of accepting it.’

  The princess paused, then took a breath. Let out a soft hum. ‘Yingliu, I can’t accept that. I want to believe that you can believe you’re someone more than just a tool, just a guard.’

  ‘Xi Yu, I —’

  ‘So,’ the other interrupted, ‘I want to understand you.’

  She froze.

  ‘Ah-Liu, can you tell me why you became a shadow guard?’ Xi Yu’s eyes, red like a blood orange, almost seemed to glow, brighter than the nterns that lit up the night sky. ‘Tell me why you’re who you are now. Tell me how you came to those convictions, who made you think this way, and everything that causes you pain and all your beliefs.’

  Xi Qian’e, no, her princess, her Xi Yu, reached out and grasped her hands. In those eyes, their hue brighter than even cinnabar ink, everything about her seemed so much simpler. It was as though her entire person, her past, her present, her mind and her body, was disassembled into a web of red string on a map, like she was some strange mystery or hidden treasure buried under the sands of rumours and the stones of suffering.

  Xi Yu whispered, ‘Is that alright, Chicken Feet?’

  She paused. Thought for a bit. She considered letting everything bubble up — how would it taste in her throat? Would it make her eyes well up with bitterness? Her tongue stiffen? Her nose run?

  She waited and realised, it wouldn’t.

  Because the person she would tell was her princess, her Xi Yu.

  She smiled.

  ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But first, tell me about you.’ She leaned forward, her lips right beside Xi Yu’s reddened ears, each of her breaths wispy and sweet like honey, a warmth that filled up in her chest. ‘Tell me why you returned to the court. Tell me why you’re who you are now. Tell me how you manage to keep your pride, who shaped you into who you are, and what keeps you wanting to push forward, to become the ruler of this empire.’

  Both their breaths hitched.

  She cupped Xi Yu’s face, even as the princess stood over her. ‘Is that alright, Your Highness the Third Princess?’

  Xi Qian’e murmured, ‘Where should I begin?’

  ‘From the beginning. Where else?’ She pulled out a chair and gestured for the other to sit. ‘Come on, spill.’

  ‘Wonderful. Let’s start there, then.’ Xi Yu leaned back in the chair, leisurely crossing her legs. ‘My parents married for political purposes. My mother was from a disgraced noble family, hoping for honour by marrying into the imperial family, and my father was the eldest son of the dowager empress, having only kept his life in the power struggles by virtue of his blindness.’

  Xi Yu reached out to the table and took a sip of tea. ‘His blindness rendered him ineligible for the throne, and thus convinced his sister — the current emperor — to spare his life and let him live. Then he had me and my brother.’

  Hu Yingliu took a bite out of some boiled tripe. ‘He became a threat?’

  ‘Yes. His family line suddenly had two imperial heirs — what would he be, if not a threat?’ Chuckling, the princess picked up a red lychee and peeled it, the rough, bumpy skin coming away in one long, curly strip. ‘The only reason that imperial nephews and nieces are considered heirs is so that the line won’t be cut off if the reigning emperor is a homosexual or doesn’t give birth. Be it by choice or otherwise.’

  That lychee went to Hu Yingliu’s lips and into her stomach. ‘Isn’t the empress also considered a possible heir? I thought everyone with the surname “Xi” was considered an heir.’

  ‘They are.’ The princess set right to peeling another. ‘Though empresses are only considered after the emperor’s children, nieces, nephews and siblings are dead. Anyway, at the time of my brother’s conception, Her Majesty was still in the midst of solidifying her power, and she was weak from birthing the Fifth Prince. Not only that, but the First and Second Princes were scrambling for power, with the Seventh Prince born only a year ter.’

  She and Xi Yu swapped the peeled lychee with a pitted apricot. ‘That sounds like a mess.’

  ‘It was.’ The princess smiled, ‘Can you guess why only me and Sixth have parents?’

  Those red eyes darkened.

  ‘It was because only my father was willing to cripple our wings. The others — the Fourth Princess of the Western Sea and her six consorts, the Fifth Lord of the Deep Mountains and his three concubines — they refused to exile their children, and they died for it.’

  ‘I heard about that year,’ Three said. ‘One told me — it was the year that Nine, Ten, Six and Five had their Ripenings. That generation of guards had a massive loss; though they didn’t die, they were crippled for life and disposed of soon after. Nine was nearly discarded for losing his arm — he only kept his life after proving his skill in medicine.’

  ‘…How heartless.’ Xi Yu looked down into the teacup and murmured, ‘Your Shadow Hall is so very heartless.’

  She only chuckled. ‘Well, continue your story.’

  Softly ughing, Xi Yu said, ‘Indeed. Anyway, by the time my brother turned two, Mother packed her bags and brought me to the North, while he stayed with Father, living a life akin to that of a monk’s. I only ever saw them on the New Year, where they came up to visit us in our tents and send supplies.

  ‘In the North, my mother and I were surrounded by the emperor’s people. I was forbidden from pursuing the schorly arts — qin music, weiqi chess, calligraphy and painting. I was raised like a solider, and while taught literacy and poetry, it wasn’t sophisticated enough to write essays or memorials.

  ‘My mother knew I wasn’t suited for front-line battle; instead, she trained me in archery and pced me on the city walls. I had my first battle at thirteen — now, at twenty-three, I’ve seen so many I can’t differentiate between them anymore.’ Csping that teacup, thin whisps of steam floated from Xi Yu’s fingers. ‘On my twenty-third birthday, my mother had finally gathered enough military prestige to threaten even the emperor.’

  Three whispered, ‘And Her Majesty ordered for General Jian to relinquish military power, to surrender the tiger tally.’

  ‘Mn. We were both summoned back to the court, where she was to give up her half, her right to command the imperial troops.’ The Third Princess whispered, ‘You know how what happened next.’

  And that, she did.

  ‘I don’t understand why she couldn’t just give it up. Mother was never a greedy person. Hot-tempered, impatient and violet, yes, but greedy…?’

  ‘Don’t think about it.’ Three just leaned forward, pressing her face into Xi Yu’s shoulder. The robe’s smooth, blue fabric pressed faint lines into her skin. ‘If it doesn’t make you happy, ignore it.’

  ‘But she and the army has influenced much of me.’ Xi Yu’s eyeshes fluttered. ‘I grew up in a pce where no conflict couldn’t be solved with fists. I’m rough like that, Ah-Liu, so if I ever hurt you, you must tell me so I can grow. For the both of us.’

  ‘I will,’ she said.

  ‘Good.’ Xi Yu nodded and said, ‘Then, tell me about yourself.’

  She smiled.