THE EASTERN PALACE

Xiaodan had frequently called Chànggē Shuĭ a fortress, and it was an apt choice of words. From afar, it resembled a crown of knives, the points facing upward like sharp blades. It was curiously elegant, made of a shiny black material that Remy didn’t realize was some kind of obsidian rock until they’d drawn closer.

It was not the castle itself that had first commanded his attention, but the majestically cascading waterfall behind it. The fortress sat on a small island surrounded by a wide, natural lake that doubled as a moat. Water flowed down toward it from a wide rocky cliff behind it, many tens of thousands of feet high. It circled Chànggē Shuĭ and then moved on, or so Xiaodan said, to the rivers and lakes spanning the east.

The cliffs themselves extended to nearly the whole horizon before them, far too high for Remy to make out what lay atop it. Chànggē Shuĭ looked like something out of a grand fairytale. That the landscape served as a natural defense against invaders was an added bonus, and he saw now how the Fourth Court had been able to defend their realm even with their fewer numbers.

Remy had never been to Qing-ye before, and nothing about the place was what he’d expected. Something about the weather patterns here allowed pockets of sunlight—actual real, dazzling sunlight, unobscured by rolling storms and thick fog—to stream down from frequent breaks in the clouds, lasting anywhere from a quarter to half an hour before disappearing, only to reappear in a different spot nearby. The whole of the plains were bathed in uncontrollable glows of light. It was a good, unpredictable obstacle against vampires too young to withstand the sun. Many would be picked off long before they even reached Chànggē Shuĭ.

Remy was not used to so much light. The sudden beams were blinding to him, and he was human.

“So this was why Vasilik wanted your territory,” Remy said once he’d picked his jaw up off the carriage floor.

“And the Fifth Court before him,” Xiaodan confirmed.

“That fortress. How did you get so much bloody obsidian in one place?”

“When you’ve had centuries to build, it’s easy if you know where to look.” Xiaodan couldn’t keep her eyes away from her home as it loomed nearer, eagerness rolling off her in waves. “We haven’t had enough people to fix it up the way I’d want. But you won’t be uncomfortable there.”

“If you say so.” Remy was trying to keep his expression neutral. She had shown up outside the inn the next morning and cheerfully rambled on about Chànggē Shuĭ, her mother, and some of her clanmates as they careened down the road at the breakneck speed Remy was unfortunately getting used to.

He hadn’t slept much the night before. Her proposition had kept him awake until the early hours of the morning, and then he’d dreamt about drowning in the middle of a mass of writhing bodies, every face resembling either Xiaodan’s or Malekh’s. He’d woken up hard again, then frantically scrubbed himself clean at the hot springs lest either of his companions smell lust on him a second time.

His throat was feeling better than the previous day, the stitches holding up nicely. Remy wrapped a fresh set of bandages around his neck, then decided to let it heal for the rest of the journey by, not coincidentally, saying very little.

Xiaodan didn’t push him, and for that he was glad. It seemed like she was determined to give him the space he needed, but even her attempts to leave him alone couldn’t stop him from being aware of her presence.

He couldn’t stop thinking about last night. About her proposal, about Malekh, about the dynamics of involving him in this strange, heady entanglement.

He was horrified that the thought excited him.

He shifted his concerns to the floor of the carriage. Xiaodan had decided that the dogs were to accompany them back, which meant there were two very large undead mastiffs reclined by his feet, rumbling contentedly. They were used to him by now, one even nuzzling lazily at his boot on occasion. He supposed they could be considered adorable, if you ignored the lolling massive eyes and giant teeth and brimstone-scented drool.

Surely no one would go out of their way to proposition him like this without expecting something in return. Xiaodan—if she was to be believed—clearly wanted intimacy from him. It certainly couldn’t be his fighting abilities; he’d wound up with more injuries than he should have.

He was used to paying for favors with sex. It felt odd not to be, and it was especially humiliating to have faced rejection when he had, for the first time in his life, offered it of his own accord. It had hurt his pride.

Was it also submission they wanted? Not obeying commands as a liege might expect from their subordinates, but from—

His stomach clenched at the thought, and he was ashamed that it was not from revulsion.

He focused on staring out the window, because Malekh’s eyes had been on him throughout the ride. Remy wasn’t entirely certain if the noble knew what had happened at the springs, if Xiaodan had been as honest with him as she said she was and admitted their indiscretions.

But Malekh had said nothing, content only to watch Remy.

Remy would have normally told him to go to hell, but it was difficult not to feel guilty after his tryst with Xiaodan. Ignoring him was the safer choice.

Xiaodan had said that Malekh wanted him, too. That was what had been at the forefront of his fevered, sleepless mind—thoughts of him and Malekh and Xiaodan—when he’d bent over naked at the hot spring that morning and, with a loud groan, proceeded to defile the nearby stones with the consequences of his disgusting imagination.

Yes. Far better not to look at either of them until they arrived at their destination.

The gates of Chànggē Shuĭ opened, seemingly of their own accord, to allow them inside, which gave Remy the distraction he needed.

Chànggē Shuĭ wasn’t a fortress; it was a city. A whole village lay within those knifelike walls, outfitted for luxury. He saw sloped roofs where monstrous sculptures of impossibly shaped lions and curved dragons stood guard, their shine golden whenever the sun’s light touched upon their stone hides. The houses surrounding the courtyard were clustered into sections, some walls inlaid with bright pearl and smooth oyster shells, gleaming brightly.

The same could not be said for the structures beyond the immediate circle. Several were in clear disrepair, others on their way to the same condition. Only a handful of residences had been maintained for habitation, he observed, the rest fallen into disuse. There were very few members of the Fourth Court left, and it showed.

Peanut and Cookie wheeled the carriage over to a woman waiting for them. Remy doubted that this was Xiaodan’s mother. The stranger was taller than him, almost Malekh’s height, despite the noble being many inches over six feet. She was dark-skinned, toned and muscular, with curls to her short black hair, and she wore a lighter variation of battle armor that was mainly chest chain mail and vambraces.

“Milady,” she said, her tone reproachful as Xiaodan hopped out of their coach, the dogs leaping after her, “I thought you’d intended to stay in Elouve longer. I would have appreciated an earlier warning.”

“I am sorry, Alegra. A few problems have arisen that need taking care of, including sightings of a new unauthorized coven in our territory. How is Mother?”

“Same as when you left. She still fades in and out several times a day, and we’re never sure how long her trances last. I would have also appreciated you sending word,” she added with a sigh when Remy stepped out, “that you’d planned on bringing guests. Shall I prepare a room for him, or do you intend to consume him before supper? Good afternoon, Lord Zidan.”

“Ah,” Remy said, because he’d been waiting for Alegra to crack a smile or let on that it was a joke at his expense, but the woman’s features remained inscrutably deadpan.

“This is Armiger Remington Pendergast, Alegra,” Xiaodan said, “and yes, I would appreciate a room made for him, as he’ll be staying here awhile. He’s to help us investigate the unwanted nest.” She sobered. “Alegra, Vasilik might well be behind this.”

“Him again?” Alegra growled. “I told you he was too much of a slippery bastard to have fallen in the war with the Fifth Court, Xiaodan. The sooner we can flush him out, the better off the world will be. I will inform your mother that you and Lord Zidan have arrived and also prepare clean quarters for the meat.”

“Should I be worried?” Remy asked, watching the stone-faced woman depart.

“Pay no attention to Alegra.” Xiaodan laughed. “She’s fond of jesting when we bring new people to the castle. She once told Queen Ophelia that she could tell the difference between royal and common blood with just a taste.”

“Oh,” Remy said. “Well then. Glad that cleared things up.”

His drollness was lost on her as well. “We’ll bring you to Mother. I…” She sighed. “I don’t know if she’ll be coherent, but you’ll know how things stand in Chànggē Shuĭ once you meet her. We all occupy the eastern palace, but the rest of the city has been shuttered indefinitely. You’ll have to remove your boots before entering, though. Malira likes her floors sparkling.”

The inside of the eastern palace was surprisingly well lit; long, thin candles and torchlight fixtures glowed from every corner. Remy had expected grim-faced portraits of ancestors, cobwebs, and grotesquely ancient furniture against fading tapestries, but instead found well-worn armchairs, bright gleaming tables and mantelpieces, and clean polished floors. Blackstone Manor looked much more forbidding than this.

The vampires who lived here were a different story. There were far fewer of them than Remy had thought, even after Xiaodan had told him about the state of the Fourth Court. He could count perhaps eight in all; they were standing to attention as the group entered the great hall, watching them. More specifically, watching him.

Remy felt himself tense up as he walked past their stares, wondering if they might be tempted to attack him, even with Xiaodan nearby. Many of their gazes lingered at the bandages on his neck, as if contemplating finishing what someone else had already started.

“They’re loyal to Xiaodan,” Malekh murmured. Remy wasn’t sure why the Third Court ruler was going out of his way to be helpful, but walking with the noble by his side did seem to defuse some of the tension, the other vampires taking in the ease in which the lord was conversing with him. Some of the wary, slightly hostile looks had receded, speculation taking their place. “It is not that you are human, so much as they recognized your weapon.”

“My father isn’t the fucking bogeyman you all keep making him out to be.”

“Your father killed a good many vampires in his prime, some of them friends and family to those present. They’ve lived long enough to remember some of your ancestors, as well. They have a right to be wary.”

“I—” Remy hesitated. He didn’t want to be grateful to Malekh, but he didn’t want to apologize, either. “Malekh. I’m not… I know that we—there’s something I must—”

“Are you trying to thank me, Pendergast?” Malekh didn’t quite smirk, but he came close. “Or do you plan to offer to me what you had of my betrothed last night, as recompense?”

Remy contemplated falling onto his own daggers. “You know?”

“Was it your intention to keep it a secret?”

“No! I had no intentions of hiding anything—”

“Your interest in her is not what’s disrespectful to me. But what she wants from you is not repayment or an exchange of favors, Armiger, as other women have demanded of you. If you aren’t interested in more than that, then at least have the decency to turn her down properly so she can give up her pursuit.”

Remy took a deep breath. “You weren’t lying when you said you wanted to—to—”

“Yes. I had expected you to be accustomed to that, given what we’d heard in Elouve.”

“Not like this.” The words came in a rush. “Giselle and the rest of them… always wanted something in return. If you or Xiaodan ever—I can’t—”

He’d learned to close himself off even in his most intimate moments with the Duchess of Astonbury and with the others. But not with Xiaodan and Malekh. He couldn’t.

“We expect nothing from you, Pendergast. We are not like the Elouvians.” Malekh leaned in, his mouth inches away from Remy’s ear. This close, he was suddenly aware of how close they looked to everyone else watching. The noble’s voice was thick with promise. “This is not a kindred custom. This is something Xiaodan and I have decided to act upon, something we agreed to.”

There must have been something strange about the air in the palace, because it was leaving Remy’s lungs in rapid, shallow bursts. He swallowed. “You’re telling me to turn Xiaodan down if I’m not interested in her for more than sex. You haven’t said what I’m supposed to do about you.”

At that, Malekh really did grin. “Xiaodan seeks more than just a physical connection, and she recognizes the same need in you. I have not always required this with my previous lovers. I want you, Pendergast. In the past, I would have never said no to a fuck, no matter how meaningless you might think it is.”

This time, the heat Remy felt was entirely his own, pooling down near his groin. “You’d betray your own fiancée?”

“You misunderstand again. I’ve never looked at anyone else, human or vampire, since I’ve been with Xiaodan. But we are both prepared to make an exception. Are you afraid?”

They were being guided toward the upper floors, finally stopping before one of the larger rooms. This was not a conversation to have before meeting the mother of someone you were, as the noble had pointed out, lusting after, so Remy reverted back to his bad habits and muttered a low “fuck you” to Malekh just before the doors opened.

Queen Yingyue was not what Remy had pictured, either. He had imagined an old woman, some kind of grand dame with an overpowering presence regardless of any supposed infirmities she might have had. But Queen Yingyue was a young girl, one who looked no older than he did—no older even than Xiaodan, for that matter. Her hair was as dark as her daughter’s, long enough that they swept the ground behind her while she reclined in an armchair, one easily several sizes too large for her willowy frame. Her hands were small and dainty, smooth and unlined with age—and were in the process of tearing a piece of paper into shreds.

Her graceful head lifted, and Remy found himself staring into brown eyes similar to Xiaodan’s, if not for their color. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. But her gaze looked back at him, blank and unseeing.

A figure rose beside her—Naji, Malekh’s brother. The lad was dressed far more sensibly now, in a short robe with little to adorn it with. The youth scowled when he spotted Remy, a hand instinctively lifting toward his neck in remembrance, though the skin there was now unmarred.

“Mother,” Xiaodan greeted, coming forward to kneel before the throne, her hands raising to clasp the other woman’s. “I brought Zidan, and someone new for you to meet.”

The soft brown eyes flickered to her daughter’s face, and the fog within their depths lifted momentarily. “My child,” the woman whispered lovingly. “Have you been away long? Have you gone and quarreled with Zidan again?”

“Zidan and I have been friends for a while now, Mother,” Xiaodan reminded her gently. “Do you remember our engagement?”

“You know you shouldn’t be bothering him when he’s immersed in his experiments at that laboratory of his, my dear,” the Fourth Court queen admonished, not listening. “He still feels guilty about the Fifth Court. And you were quite foolish, running off to face Etrienne all by yourself. Chànggē Shuĭ is impenetrable. You know the man will do anything to claim our city.”

“I know, Mother. But I’m all better now.”

“He worked day and night to save you, you know. Sat by your bedside for days without rest. And when Alegra managed to coax him away, he returned to his laboratory, trying to find a way to keep your heartbeats steady. You were quite foolish, running off to face Etrienne all by yourself. Chànggē Shuĭ is impenetrable—”

Her face changed, suddenly furious and hideous in her rage. “What did you do, Xiaodan? You were not meant to have her heart. We were not meant to bring down the sun. They will kill us! They will kill us!”

She flung herself at Xiaodan with a snarl. Malekh stepped between them, and Queen Yingyue clutched at his coat, still yowling, clawing at the threads.

“There is still time,” she panted, trying to reach around Malekh for Xiaodan, her hand opening and closing like talons, grasping toward Xiaodan’s scarred chest. “We must bring it back and beg for repentance, lest we burn. Xiaodan!” Her voice rose, a high-pitched screech. “Please!”

Xiaodan didn’t move. She only stared back at her mother, heartbroken.

“We have no choice, my love. No, I didn’t want to lose you—you, my flesh and blood, the only thing I have left to remember Shethar by.” The hand dropped, and the queen sat back, blinking, no longer aggressive. “Shethar would sing to me in the evenings,” she said calmly, “and we would row across the Dà Lán on warm nights when there would be nothing else in the world but the two of us. He would—”

A spasm of pain crossed her face. Xiaodan took her mother into her arms with sure, practiced movements. Remy started forward, but Malekh shook his head. “The danger has passed. She always calms once she talks of her husband.”

“I miss him,” the queen wept. “I miss him so much. Where has he gone? Is he still in the castle? I should look for him.” She started to rise, but Xiaodan held her fast.

“Mother,” she said softly, sweetly, urgently. “Let’s take a nap. I’m sure Father will be here soon. He would want you to rest.”

“I am tired,” the woman said faintly. A pause and her eyes closed, head lolling back.

Xiaodan rose to her feet, carrying the smaller woman like she was no heavier than a feather. “No changes at all since we left, Alegra?” she asked sadly.

“I’m afraid not, milady,” the woman responded from where she’d been keeping watch by the door.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Xiaodan said to Remy. “But we thought it was necessary for you to know about her condition, if you are to stay here with us.”

“No apologies required,” Remy said. “I’ve seen this enough times with other humans. There’s not much you can do but ensure their comfort. I wasn’t aware that vampires had similar conditions.”

“Most vampires don’t live long enough to be of Yingyue’s age,” Malekh said crisply, taking the now-sleeping queen from Xiaodan’s hands.

“She doesn’t look like she could be older than I am.”

“She’s six hundred years old.”

“Well, shit.”

“What’s he doing here?” Naji asked, staring hard at Remy.

“Nice to see you’ve recovered from your injuries,” Remy said with false cheer.

“Naji,” Malekh said. “Pendergast is a guest. I trust that you will behave yourself while he’s here.”

His brother only glared at Remy before stomping off.

“Forgive him,” Xiaodan said. “He’s been looking after Mother since he arrived. He’s only been kindred for five years, and immaturity hasn’t quite left him yet.”

“Five years? I thought he was Malekh’s younger brother.”

“Adopted younger brother,” Malekh said. “I killed all my biological siblings some hundreds of years ago.”

“Right. As one does.”

“She believes we are still in the aftermath of the Fifth Court war, after Sauveterre was killed,” Xiaodan said sadly as Malekh laid the woman down on the bed. Her hand stole back to her chest. “Right after I nearly died,” she added, much more quietly. “She has no memories of anything past that. She still believes Father’s alive.” She smiled faintly. “And she keeps forgetting about our engagement. She thinks Malekh and I are still at each other’s throats.”

“Were you really?”

“Frequently enough that everyone else in the castle was resigned to hearing our spats every day. I mentioned it last night…” Xiaodan allowed herself to blush faintly. “I refuse to give up on her yet. She remembers some of Zidan’s more recent experiments, always talks about how worried she is that someone might steal his inventions.”

“She built the palace laboratory for me,” Malekh confirmed. “Some of the tonics I’ve made have helped with her short-term memories, but it’s been difficult.”

“Zidan would wed his laboratory if he could,” Xiaodan said, regaining some of her cheerfulness. “As it is, he’ll have to settle for me. She’ll sleep for a bit now. I would have liked to tell her about my plans to root out the nest at her beloved Dà Lán, but it appears that will have to wait. She despises Vasilik. Zidan, shall we show Remy your laboratory? Or should we wait until we’ve cleaned it up first?”

“I already swept the place clean this morning, milady,” Alegra said. “I will also prepare the gurney and the necessary tools. Shall I wrap the operating room in old canvas again so we can mop the blood up more quickly afterward?”

“Xiaodan,” Remy said. “Please tell her to stop doing that.”