My King of Flowers

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Yinuo’s heart skipped a beat. From her vantage point at the top of the steps, peering down into the sparsely decorated room, she saw him gently placing his hands on a low desk, red marks visible where the metal encased his wrists. Yet, he hadn’t noticed her. A noise caught her attention, and she instinctively squatted against the wall to hide her shadow. Gently, she pacified her fear by tapping her racing heart and then turning to see the prince alone in the solitary room.

“Yinuo,” Prince Cuilin breathed, and she picked herself up, dousing the lamp and sealing the door behind her. She rushed in but stopped before she passed the window, dropping to her knees.

“What are you doing?”

She tapped her finger to her lip and pointed at a house servant who walked past as Yinuo crawled her way to the side, out of view. When she reached her destination, she sat up and peered again out into the courtyard. The sunken room had walls that came just over her shoulders. No better than a dog pen, she thought. She shut the blinds and stepped back to face the prince, once again taking in his form. Thankfully, she observed no bruising visible through his clothes, and the marks around his hands were mere chafing rather than cuts.

“Let me find the key, they can’t have hidden it far,” Yinuo said, quietly. She started with the bookcases around the desk, and searching some of the potted plants.

The prince silently observed her, waiting in a stationary position to not raise the alarm. He kept his focus on Yinuo, and his lips sealed. Yinuo moved past him and got to her tiptoes to find the key hanging behind the decorative screen behind the prince. Dust lay in the crevices of the panel, but the main purpose of it was to hide the other instruments behind it.

Yinuo jumped back as Cuilin caught her arm. “Are you all right? What...what are you doing here?”

“I’m fine. I came because I saw what my father did. I couldn’t let them hurt you. So here, we have to get you out of here. They didn’t use any of those on you, did they?”

“No,” he replied, still in awe of her.

Yinuo slipped the key into position and slide the lock from his arms, discarding it with a kick of her small foot into a dusty corner. Prince Cuilin flicked his hands a few times and rubbed his wrist, but otherwise took a seat back down at the desk.

“Thank you,” he said in disbelief.

“You need to run,” Yinuo implored him.

He hesitated, “Miss Yan...”

“Stop it. I will not allow you to suffer because of my impulsiveness!”

“I kissed you,” he replied.

“I initiated!”

“I reciprocated!” he interjected in a raised voice that silenced her. Her shoulders fell forward as she knelt next to him. Yinuo couldn’t leave him like this, but she didn’t know what to do. Softly, Cuilin opened his mouth again, the words like a cruel cut, “A gentleman would have pushed you back. I—”

“Don’t you dare apologize!” she retorted, “I don’t regret it. So please, don’t make me feel like I’ve done you a great disservice. Don’t make me feel like...like an idiot who kissed a stranger.”

“That was never my intent,” he softly replied.

“I won’t have you mistreated. I know that they’ll look for any excuse to punish you, even if they’ve dropped the charges. So run, I’ll help you run. I know you suffer from fatigue but lean on me. I can get you out of here.”

He presented his palms to her, “You may have freed me, but my wrists are still bound. Leaving won’t change that.”

Yinuo’s eyes widened. “There are knives,” she whispered, “and other tools behind that screen. Who’s to say they won’t change their minds!”

“The misunderstanding has already been cleared,” he replied, curling his hands into a fist. “The Emperor will learn of what happened today, and I may be on his bad side, but he knows what he leverages with hosting me. I am both hostage and charge.”

Yinuo looked around the pen, the shoddy excuse of a spare room. What person deserved this kind of treatment? She clasped her hand to her forehead. “Because of my rashness, I lost a dear friend...I...” For a moment, she stopped herself, too embarrassed to explain clearly what she wanted or intended. She didn’t want him to be hurt because of her. She never wanted there to be a misunderstanding, but...she didn’t regret the kiss. “Let me help you escape,” she whispered her plea.

“My position shields me,” he began in a low tone, “I appreciate the concern, but I have endured worse.”

“What else could you have endured?” she asked.

He thought for a minute, “My family willingly agreed for me to being taken hostage. I am not the heir nor even the first choice. I am merely a son of Zhou who is expendable. While the Emperor believes me a valuable assets my country plants hexes in my room to assassinate me and declare the treaty void. I was chosen as a scapegoat for my country, a delicate political play in a shaky alliance.”

“Your family wants to sacrifice you?” she awed, reliving her careless words of being a part of everyone who has ever loved you. She bowed her head in shame, truly she knew nothing of his suffering.

“If I am in the Emperor’s favor, I will live to be a toothless man. If I lose favor, then I will leave a beautiful corpse. I have lived with the court for several years, I have a better understanding of the Emperor’s temperament, and besides, this was worth it to see you again.”

Could hope bite her heart and make her want to see what she wanted in the face of a man whose scars lured her closer to him? Being so close, his scent, a mix of peony and musk, beat her heart in remembering how soft his lips had been upon her. How “right” it had all felt a moment ago despite the fear of losing him again. “What do you mean?” she asked.

He went quiet, curling his fingers into a fist on the desk. “When I first saw you, I saw a woman smiling so brightly to a peony. Your face was buried in the petals, and I thought how free you were even though I was a little drowsy from medicine,” he explained. Yet, the hesitation in his voice made her curious, what was he holding back?

“...Are you Dehai?” she asked, the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She held his stare, reaching for his hand, but he recoiled it from her.

“You should leave, Yinuo. Before someone misunderstands.”

“Then tell me, what are you holding back?”

“I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you, but I do not think that my situation is worthy of such a free-spirited heart. One who loves peonies and her brothers so fiercely that she would become a hostage with me. What right do I have to have any spark of feelings for someone so free?”

“Then why did you propose to my father if all of these things hold you back?” she asked.

“Because I am a fool. Lord Nie has been ordered by the Emperor to find me a suitable bride. I am merely following the Emperor’s orders. However, Lord Nie is my uncle. He asked me my opinion, and I am sorry. I shouldn’t have—I am merely a prince who, on his first birthday, chose a peony instead of the seal.”

“How does choosing a peony condemn you?” she raised her voice. “How is appreciating beauty and nature so horrible of a choice! I’d stay with anyone who chose a peony for a thousand lifetimes compared to one who chose a brush, arrow, or seal. At least then, I’d know he’d know what is good and worthwhile in the world. What is wrong with a peony? You tell me you admire my free spirit. What if I look at you and want to free you, too!”

“Please, don’t raise your voice, I don’t—” he held up his arms.

“Ask me what I want,” she ordered him.

“W-What do you want?”

“I want to be with my king of flowers again,” she said, tears falling from her face. Wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her, she brought his lips to hers. His arms touched her back—an invasion of space not unwelcome. When she dipped her head, breaking the kiss, she continued, “My freedom is an illusion; I live trapped in my role as a daughter in a noble house. But if I could share it, then I do not think this weight would be a burden, but merely a memory.”

The back of his palm reached for her neck, cupping the sensitive skin at the base of her ear. While intense eyes never left her face or the flush forming at her cheeks. She did not hear him confirm; instead, she felt a return of pressure, softness at her cheeks, and sweetness on her lips. The world was right again, the light rain in the distance, rapping on the roof; she lost herself in her senses, returning her passion to her king of flowers again.