mouth, and an almost guilty twitch in his neck as his head turns from side
to side, making sure the other guards’ eyes are averted.
I suddenly realize what a good job Bo has done of hiding his true
feelings. He cares for me more than I’ve assumed—there is genuine
concern in his expression—but he also fears for my mind more than I ever
would have guessed. He worries I’m more than odd. He worries I’m
touched by my mother’s madness, and that one day the queen he’s come
to care for may become a madwoman who’ll try to kill her children in the
night.
I don’t know if it’s the roses’ magic or my own intuition, but I am
certain that is what Bo feels. And I’m just as certain that he won’t leave my
tower without knowing how I managed to leave my shoes in a flower bed
only feet from the Monstrous’s cell.
to my chest, pressing it tightly to my sweater until I feel the bleeding stop.
Breath coming fast, I draw my knees to my chest. I am preparing to
leap up, run back to the tower, and hope I can make the climb up to the
balcony without being spotted by Bo or the guards—when the greater
implications of what has just happened hit hard enough to make my bones
weak all over again.
The roses
don’t want me to go. They showed me just enough to make me afraid,
before setting me free.
they simply have the interests of the city at heart—it
vine more possessive than concerned.
As I rub the bruised skin around my new wound, I begin to doubt for
the first time in my life what I’ve been taught about the royal garden. The
legends say the roses grew after the first queen’s blood hit the ground, a
symbol of the sacrifice she’d made and the covenant that would keep Yuan
safe.
But what if—
“There you are.” Gem’s voice comes centimeters from my ear, close
enough to make me gasp. My ears are sensitive, but I didn’t hear a thing
until he was close enough to touch.
By the moons, I’m glad he’s here. I’m so glad not to be alone with the
roses. I’m weak with it. Strong with it. My blood starts to rush again; my
bones rediscover their sturdy centers.
“Thank you for coming.” I find his chest with my fingers, flattening
my palm against the thick fabric of one of his new shirts, hoping he can feel
my gratitude as clearly as I feel his heart thudding beneath his ribs.
. The
beating grows faster as we sit in silence, our foggy breath mingling between
our faces. Mine is hot, but his is so much hotter and it smells nothing of the
cabbage he refuses to eat. Gem’s breath is fresh sawdust and sweet smoke,
chestnuts and celery root, as sharp and clean as the winter air. It’s a good
smell, a healthy smell that makes me wonder how breath like
. My heartbeat stutters, and I pull my hand away
from Gem’s chest so quickly that I hit my own throat and begin to choke.
“Are you all right?” He lays a hand on my shoulder, the same
shoulder he tore open months ago, the one that bears a tight, sleek scar
from the claw that cut the deepest. But now Gem’s claws are sheathed and
his fingers are careful, gentle.
He’s never touched me like this before. We haven’t touched in
weeks, and even then our only contact was in anger—my fists on his chest,
his hands at my wrists, my fingers on his throat, his claws at mine. But this
is not anger. This is … something else.
“I’m fine.” My whisper is hoarse. I clear my throat. “We should go.
The patrol—”
“They’ll be back soon,” he interrupts, his voice gruff. He pulls his
hand from my shoulder, leaving my skin colder. “Go back to your tower. If I
run, I’ll be back in my cell before I’m spotted.”
“No!” I say, louder than I mean to. I bite my lip, then whisper, “No.
We have to get the bulbs. I know of a secret door out into the desert. No
one will see us go, and Needle will make sure we aren’t missed.”
“And how will she do that?”
“I’ve canceled your escort to the field,” I explain, ears straining to
catch the scuff of boots. “No one will come to your room except to bring
meals. Needle says she can convince the girl who delivers them to allow her
to take over for the next few days. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?
You said it wouldn’t take more than three days. Two, if you were quick.”
He grunts. I can tell he isn’t impressed with the plan. “And what of
the queen? Won’t someone notice your absence?”
“I told Bo I don’t wish to be disturbed,” I say, throat tightening
around what I’ve left unsaid: the crack in the dome waiting to be
investigated and the fact that Bo stands at my tower door right now, and all
the rest. “He’ll honor my wish to be left alone for a few days, and Needle
will turn him away if he does not.”
Gem makes another dubious sound. When he speaks again, I can tell
he’s closer. His breath is warmer. It whispers across my lips, prickling my
skin. “If your people find out you took me into the desert with no one to
protect you, or prevent me from escaping, they’ll think you’re more rattled
in the brain than they do already. Junjie will lock you away, and you will
never rule this city.”
“I will never rule this city if I run back to my rooms,” I hiss. “I must
give the people a reason to see me as—or at least remember me—as
something more than …”
“More than?”
“The garden will prove I am a good and useful queen,” I say, cursing
myself for nearly losing control of my tongue. I don’t want Gem to know. I
don’t want him to treat me the way people treat a girl who has been
marked for death since her very birth. “The garden will—” A faint thud
sounds from the direction of the orchard. I freeze, falling silent, until Gem
whispers—
“An apple falling to the ground. There is still fruit on the limbs at the
very top.” Disgust creeps into his tone. “Your people have so much, you
leave food to
me tonight,” I say, “and I will do what I can for your people.”
“You can do nothing.”
“Not now,” I agree. “But if we fetch these bulbs, and the herbs we
need later … If my garden is a success and my people are healed and learn
to love me, they’ll respect my judgment. Come summer, when the first of
the crops are in, I’ll convince the council to send a portion of what is ours
into the desert.”
“The herbs may take months to work. My people can’t wait that
long.”
“All right,” I say, growing increasingly desperate the longer we linger.
“Then I will send food as soon as I can. I’ll convince my advisors it’s
necessary, a peace offering to keep the Desert People from returning to
free our captive.”
“And who will deliver this peace offering?”
“You will. I’ll talk with Junjie. I’ll persuade him that you can be
trusted to return when your errand is through.”
“Can I?”
“You’re here now,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “You
wouldn’t be if your father’s promise didn’t mean something to you. You’re
honorable. I’ll explain that to Junjie.”
Gem’s laugh is soft but parsnip-bitter all the same. “You think he’ll
listen?”
“I’ll
my tongue, struggling to keep my voice even. “Things are different now,” I
whisper. “I won’t allow Junjie to rule in my place. When we return from the
desert, I will join the council meetings. I will speak to the people and hear
their complaints myself. I will not sit quietly by. I will fight for a place in this
city, and I will fight for those who have served me well. Help me, and I
He’s quiet for a long moment. “You sound almost like a queen.”
“I will behave like one. I swear it,” I say, ignoring the guilty prickle at
the back of my neck.
Gem could never guess how good the chances are that I won’t be
around to keep my promise. And I can’t tell him. I
roses hovering behind us like carrion birds, watching, waiting for a sign that
it’s time to swoop down and feed.
“Please. I’ll beg if I—”
“Where is this secret door?” Gem asks, taking my hand.
My fingers startle open before tightening with a grateful squeeze. I
find myself comforted by his calloused palm in a way I never am by Bo’s
softness. Gem is going to help. He has given me hope, and I swear to myself
that I will give the same to his people. I
to him, and hopefully many more.
“This way.” I start toward the orchard, still holding his hand. “There’s
a small gate, the King’s Gate, beyond the village green, past the cornfields,
near the granaries. It’s no more than a door, really,” I whisper as we hurry
through the trees. “I’ve never been through it, but I’m told it’s hidden
behind—”
Gem jerks my arm—hard and sudden—sending a flash of pain
through my shoulder. I stumble back, and his arms are suddenly around
me, his hand covering my mouth, muffling my rush of breath as our bodies
collide. I stiffen but don’t pull away. I stand perfectly still, ears pricking.
I press my lips together and nod, and Gem’s hand drops from my
mouth, but his arms remain around my waist, holding me close as the
My stomach turns itself inside out beneath Gem’s hand. What if
we’re spotted? I’m assuming it’s darker beneath the trees, but that’s only a
guess. My world is always dark, without variation. I can’t know whether it’s
better to hide in the shadows or run for the green and hope the soldiers
don’t notice our footsteps. I have to trust that Gem has made the right
decision, that standing frozen like statues will keep us safe.
But I do trust him. He doesn’t want to be caught. If the soldiers find
him with the queen pinned to his chest, they won’t hesitate. They’ll throw
their spears. Aim for Gem’s heart. Hope to kill him before he kills me.
They won’t take the time to see that Gem’s claws aren’t extended,
that his arms are gentle around me, or that my fingers linger over his. They
won’t notice that I lean into him, not away, or that my head turns to look
over my shoulder, bringing my cheek so near his mouth that his silent
breath warms my skin. They would
my belly makes it ache, because the longing to taste him is stronger than it
was before.
If Gem and I were alone, and I were the kind who cared for nothing
but my own pleasure, I would turn in his arms. I would arch my back and tilt
my head and press my lips to his. I would kiss him the way Bo kissed me in
the royal garden. I would not fear his teeth. I would not think how strange
it is for tongues to touch. I would not think about cabbage. I would kiss him
until I was breathless.
“They’re gone,” Gem whispers.
My eyes fly open. I exhale sharply, wondering why the news that
we’re safe makes my heart beat even faster.
“Isra …” Gem’s hand curls, and the tips of his fingers press deeper
into my stomach, and suddenly my long underwear and two layers of
overalls are not enough protection from his touch. I shudder, and the world
shifts, and I fill to the brim with a feeling I’ve never felt before. It bubbles
inside me until a soft sigh of pain escapes my lips.
Pain, because I’m not stupid. I
my harp. My teacher, Biyu, taught me the chords—sitting behind me with
her fingers guiding mine—and Father taught me the words. Baba and I
would sing some of the songs together before it was time for me to go to
bed, but there were some I was too embarrassed to sing with him. Even at
ten or eleven, I realized not all love songs are about the way love affects a
heart. They’re about the way love affects the body, about a hunger that has
nothing to do with food. King Deshi’s metaphors aren’t so clever that I
couldn’t guess their meanings.
The pelican with its “pulsing beak” was no pelican.
Needle told me how it is with a man and a woman and the “beak”
and the “flower” not long after my first blood. Baba thought I was too naive
to understand, but I wasn’t.… I …
prisoner. He’s gone. It hits me all over again. My chest feels like it’s caving
in, my throat threatens to collapse, and the only thing keeping the heat
behind my eyes from spilling over is knowing how little I deserve to cry.
If my father could see me now, he would be
of his being. I am even more
Wrong
continues to do his best to seduce me, and I feel nothing but vague
curiosity and more pronounced anxiety. Now a beast from the desert
stands too close, and I am dizzy with
night. But this time he wouldn’t be angry, and I wouldn’t be scared. I would
be
down my throat at dinner, and barely swallow it down.
I twist free of Gem’s arms, and stumble to the edge of the green
before stopping to bury my face in my hands. I concentrate on the smell of
the jasmine perfume at my wrists, the contrast of my breath warming my