My King of Flowers

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Dehai is dead. How many times must that refrain continue, and the wish be taken away when it felt so close to her? Yinuo held her breath, restraining herself from lashing out at the man responsible for the order—the one who followed the law. His rich brown eyes commanded the world before him, including her. She'd place all the blame on him, if she could, but she had been the one to break the boundaries, no matter how innocent.

Her brother's words did not enter her ears, though the firm press of his hands at her shoulder placed both of them to kneel before the Emperor. She saw the carpet and the hem of his golden robes as her brother presented her as his sister. Yinuo raised her eyes to the man, caught again in her head, caught but not trapped. She lifted herself up as her brother remained kneeling. With a quick bow, she addressed the Emperor. "I am Yan Yinuo, the Eldest Daughter of Chancellor Yan. Forgive my lax in etiquette and excuse me from the protocols, for I do so out of desperation."

The Emperor did not rebuke her, and her father's tongue was held by the Emperor's gaze upon his daughter.

Yinuo breathed in, and said, "I have not been harmed by Prince Cuilin. I went with my younger brother, Yan Mingdan, to pay respects at a family's grave early this morning, which is why I disappeared. I can explain everything. If you just grant a reprieve of the Zhou Prince's interrogation."

The Emperor studied her a moment, "Chancellor Yan, it relieves me greatly to see your daughter unscathed. I will permit your daughter to stand in court; however, that magnificent beast needs to find a home in the stables. Tell me, Yan Weixin, how old is the horse?"

"Your Grace—"Yinuo tried to speak up, when her brother caught her arm.

"The horse shares its age with my sister. Should it find favor in your eyes, I would be honored to gift it to you." Weixin explained. Yinuo gave her brother a look of disgust.

"Hrm, a foal derived from such a steed would suffice. It is apparent, Chancellor Yan, that your daughter does not know the entirety of the situation. However, let us not burden her. Yan Weixin, escort that beast out of my hall, and you," he turned to Yinuo as Weixin promptly obeyed the Emperor's command. "Come."

Yinuo followed, as the courtiers dispersed to their respective duties, with her father joining her side without so much of a word, but a furrowed expression. They marched together behind the Emperor and in front of his horde of servants. The Emperor turned to them, "We will proceed to the Hall of Justice, where Chancellor Yan's daughter shall present her account to Magistrate Lei. Regarding Prince Cuilin's condition, I make no assurances." he said, then paused locking eyes with her, "Do not faint on me," he threatened. Yinuo nodded, feeling every syllable as a scorching cut; she clutched her heart to refrain from speaking out.

As the Emperor retreated into his palanquin, another arrived for Yinuo and her father. Her father slid across the seat, allowing her to step up next to him. When she was settled, he grasped her knee. Lord Yan looked to be on the verge of saying something, but instead he withheld it from her and turned to look away.

"Father—"

"Do not speak to me," he snapped.

"Why did you do this? Why did you assume that the prince had stolen me away!" she demanded.

"Sh!" he covered her mouth, but she tore her head from his hand, biting him to finally free herself.

"I know that Prince Cuilin needs a marriage for the alliance and his safety! I know that his family has sent assassins to break the treaty and that your own son was saved by him! We owe him. What are you hiding!"

Her father sighed, propping his elbow on the window sill and leaning his head into his palm. "We owe him nothing. He is merely a scavenger, barely clinging to the fringes of the Emperor's grace. We will not be affiliated with such a character."

"Is he Dehai?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"The gardener's son! He looks just like him! Is Prince Cuilin Dehai!"

"Have you gone mad?" he demanded. "I do not know a Dehai! We do not have time for this—!"

"The servant you killed! You had him flogged and then beheaded because I kissed him! Tell me! Is that the truth! Why does he look like Prince Cuilin! Why does he pull at my heart!"

"Be quiet! There are others around, and they hear you!" he retorted.

"I will not! Not until you tell me the truth! Why did you send Prince Cuilin away! Was it because for the first time in a long time I actually felt my heart beat!" she shouted. She pounded on her father's chest. "Dammit, stop keeping things from me..."

Her father's lips quivered, but did not move. He shoved her from him, and turned again towards the window with his brows almost to the point of touching each other.

"Disown me," Yinuo whispered, "Next time I find someone in my heart, disown me. I'd prefer it."

The carriage came to a stop, and Yinuo bolted from it, falling out, but was caught by a servant stationed nearby. Yinuo didn't wait for anyone; instead, she ran towards the gate and into the courtyard of the Hall of Justice. The men at the door held up spears to her, and she hesitated. "I have permission to see Magistrate Lei!" she screeched.

The guards shared a look and then got to their knees. Yinuo didn't need to look behind her to know that the Emperor was approaching. Heavy footsteps filled the silent air; she didn't wait for him, sidestepping the guards and rushing into the hall. She passed offices and open spaces that she did not dare to register.

Driven only by the desire to see Cuilin and ensure that he wasn't hurt, she didn't know what she would do. But as she passed, each guard she met fell to their knees, the Emperor's approach growing more and more ominous. She felt like she was running from his shadow in a race against time, not knowing if she'd truly make it before the darkness devoured her.

A loud cry echoed through her, barely muffled by a door. There! She rushed towards the sound until the hall, through an archway, opened into a yard reeking of stale iron. Yinuo's knees locked, forcing her to view the scene before her. Prince Cuilin's face was bruised, with a split lip that dribbled down his chin and onto his white robes. Stripped of the fine silks, he wore a prisoner's tunic and pants, both disarrayed and stained with splatters of blood.

Around him, gravel had been cleared and piled up to form a pronounced border, creating an oval-shaped clearing. A layer of hay covered the exposed ground around and beneath the chair where Prince Cuilin was bound with rods securing his thighs. Shallow breaths escaped his lips as Prince Cuilin's head hung at his breast. Completely isolated—only the sound of his breathing disturbed the silence. A slight whistling encapsulated the space between him and Yinuo.

"Dehai!" she called to him, rushing to kneel before him, but not to weep, but to access how to release the mechanism. She didn't focus on the stains on his body or look for anything else, hauling the rods out and searching for a way to take off the bindings. A flash of memory had her reaching for the knife he'd hidden in his belt, and she pricked herself before finding it within the folds. Gingerly, she removed it, keeping the blade's edge away from him. Once free, she sliced through the bindings around his wrists.

"This is not what I granted," the Emperor's cold voice said.

Yinuo pivoted, the blade still in her hand, her voice trembling with revulsion, "Is this the path to truth you've chosen? Where is the honesty in pain—it's disgusting and senseless!"

"I never promised anything about his condition," the Emperor replied. He folded his arm, but kept his distance from her. He blocked the hallway and the guards behind him. "Put down the knife."

"Is that all you can say!" she demanded. "Your treaty demands that the prince live! If he dies because of these injuries you will set upon your people turmoil and send Weixin to war!" she proclaimed.

"Miss Yan, I will forgive this heinous offense, but you must heed me. Drop the knife," the Emperor said, taking a single step forward.

Yinuo tightened, still gripping the small knife and holding her other arm back to defend him. "Stay back! I won't let you harm him—!"

A sharp, piercing pain exploded across her collarbone as an arrow struck, the force knocking her to the ground. "Assassin! Protect the Emperor!" Unable to respond, she looked up in time to see a man on the roof drawing his bow at Cuilin. Without thinking, and all in an elongated moment, she threw herself towards Cuilin, focusing all her energies on seeing both Dehai and Cuilin as one. Their scars lining up, the smile of her beloved childhood friend, and the gentleness of peonies dampened her surroundings. She cradled him just in time as another arrow lodged itself into her back, sending a deep, throbbing pain across her chest, jerking her arms tight. Gasping for air—she hesitated to cast her eyes down; the arrow hadn't gone through.

"Yinuo!" Weixin cried—or was it Danbei's? But the agony flared, scorching through her. She could only draw her trembling hand to the unconscious face of Cuilin, brushing the silken lock from his face. His eyes open for the first time to reveal sky-blue. The same blue that would have taken her to the Eastern Sea.

Cuilin blinked, coming into focus. "You bastard!" Weixin shouted. He stood on the rooftop, chasing down a man dressed in black garb.

Yinuo's breath caught. "Are...you..."

Cuilin grasped her face. "Yinuo!"

"Stay, Dehai...I want to stay..." she called, her eyes losing focus, and a light-headedness filling her. Her whole body quaked with pain. She lowered her head to see her strength falter. In that moment, as she leaned into Cuilin, her clothing tugged up, causing the front arrow to shift and dislodge itself. Her eyes closed, embraced by the rise of his chest, and enveloped in the musk of peonies.

"Yinuo!" he shouted, threading his fingers through her hair, "No, no!" He looked up to the soldiers who'd rushed the courtyard, among them, her father and brother Danbei, but they kept their distance. Cuilin stood, embracing Yinuo to his body. "What are you doing standing there! Move!" he demanded. The guards lowered their spears at him, taking a slow ascent towards them.

"Give me back my daughter!" Lord Yan shrieked from behind the line, his face a swollen red, almost to the shade of purple.

Cuilin's grip tightened. "Never," he retorted, "I will never give Yi'er back!" His shout rose a gust of wind staggering the guards. As instantly, from the ground crimson stalks rapidly sprung from the hay and dirt, sending gravel flying in its haste. The tiny projectiles peppering those impeding the circle. The stalks with their crimson tapered ends like spines, pierced through the air, rapidly developing into full brush blocking the path of the soldiers to Cuilin. Just as suddenly, darkness covered the sun, centering over the palace and all that lay within.

Cuilin's eyes firmed, and he tightened his grip on Yinuo's waist in both protective and possessiveness. A torrent whipped clothes and flared hair, creating a vent that pushed all who tried to approach. He turned to Yinuo to brush her face as the men's screams became a void in a red gale around them.

Cuilin pressed his forehead to hers. "I want to stay too," he cried, tears dewing from his eyes. "I want to stay, but I can't, Yinuo..."

The flesh of his arm holding Yinuo began to dissolve into gentle red swirls, no longer able to sustain its grip on her. Franticly, his other arm shot out, reaching her just in time to gradually take her down so she lay in his arms. With one quick motion, he yanked the remaining arrow from her back. Desperately, he pressed his face to hers. "Yinuo..."

She saw him disappearing, the energies and the lights replacing the contours of his body. Gently, she reached for his face, traced the scars at his forehead, and then trailed down to his chin. She felt herself flatten to the ground without his support, but his torso still held onto this world.

"I love you, Dehai. I will always love you," she replied, catching a lock of his hair. She drew herself up, and met his soft lips to hers, one last kiss. One last wish, to be with her king of flowers again.