NA: hi everyone, the China storyline is pretty long and intense! Bear with me here as we connect all the other subplots together :)

Chapter 40

The pressure of the pillow forced Tengri to thrash about, struggling for freedom beneath Aurora's weight. He sputtered, saliva spilling as he gasped for air. In a swift motion, a leg connected with Aurora's stomach, causing her to momentarily release the pillow and tumble off the bed in a flurry.

Tengri let out a fierce roar, straining against the ropes that held his wrists captive. Sweat cascaded down his face as he twisted his body into an uncomfortable upright position. His arms were pulled taut behind him, veins protruding and pulsating with effort. With each powerful thrust, the wooden bedposts creaked ominously, threatening to splinter under the pressure.

Aurora lay on the floor, trembling in fear as she faced the monstrous figure looming over her. Her eyes darted around the room until they landed on a katana, perfectly displayed on the wall. As the prince struggled against his bindings, Aurora sprang up and rushed to seize the katana. It felt much weightier than she had anticipated, a stark contrast to the throwing knives she was accustomed to.

She had never killed anyone before.

He should die.

It was only a matter of time before Tengri broke loose from his restraints. Aurora stood back, watching him in his feral state. The sword felt unbearably heavy, as if it were made of solid rock. She reflected on how her mother would handle this situation. Her mother would have slaughtered Tengri without a second thought—there would be no room for hesitation.

The act of killing was something she knew she could never undo. Her mind drifted to the moment he had drugged her and taken advantage of her, and she felt strange gratitude for the fact that her memories of that night were mostly blurred.

He will die.

SNAP.

A fierce anger welled up inside Aurora. The rope snapped, and Tengri was focused on loosening his other wrist. Without hesitation, she raced across the room, katana lifted above her head. The blade found its mark, plunging into Tengri's chest. His eyes turned to meet hers, even as the katana pressed down into the mattress below.

Blood gushed from Tengri's mouth, followed by a dreadful gurgling noise. Aurora fought to remove the blade, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't budge. He slumped onto the silk sheets, coughing up blood, desperately holding onto the flicker of life that remained.

"W…ho…re," he wheezed, a grim smile forming as he showed his crimson-stained teeth.

Perched on the bed, Mara focused on sharpening her crude knife. The small food bags were ready, and Aurora's cloak rested on a chair. With a quiet whistle, the door opened, and Mara's gaze was captured by her princess, who appeared disheveled and stained with blood.

Before she could get a word in, Aurora sputtered, "He—he wouldn't die. I used a katana. It was a blood fest…I couldn't…he wouldn't die!" She wrapped her bloody palms over her ears.

"It's alright." Mara embraced her trembling frame and kept her close. "He can't hurt you or anyone else anymore."

Perhaps it was the adrenaline or the thought of freedom, but Aurora sobered quickly. The tears dried and she was able to look Mara in the eye. They were going to escape. They were going to be free…at last.

"We must leave quickly," said Aurora.

They went to the servant quarters once the palace grew quiet. Mara led the way to the cellar below as she was eager to leave. Meanwhile, Aurora kept looking over her shoulder, fearing someone was tailing them. Freedom was close and the smell of fresh air lingered near the doorway. After a few minutes of finagling the lock, Mara got the door to open.

Another glance over the shoulder, and Aurora grabbed hold of the Alp's hand. They ran outside, their cloaks billowing in the wind. The torches along the twenty-foot palace walls lit the way. Tears evaporated in the frigid spring air as Aurora kept running. Her heart raced in her ears, thumping loud with her feet driving into the ground.

People. There were people!

They were near civilization the entire time. The imperial city was right outside the palace, yet Aurora was made a prisoner, forced to be confined within the palace walls. She and Mara slowed to a steady walk as they passed one of the palace gates manned by two guards. The soldiers looked more bored than anything and paid them no mind.

"This feels too easy," Aurora whispered.

"I am not questioning it. Let us go into the city." She grabbed Aurora's hand. "We may find a place to rest for the night."

Aurora stopped and stared at the Alp, disbelieving the naivety of this plan. "If we go into the city, how do you know someone will house us for the night? We are foreigners and we don't even know where we are!"

"Keep your voice down," Mara hissed. "Fine, we can camp outside the city in the woods. Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

"Yes, actually."

Just after sunrise, a servant boy came to Prince Tengri's quarters to tidy the room. Tengri kept his servants well in the dark about his affairs with opium, wine, women, and especially Aurora. When the servant saw the katana sticking out of the prince's chest, he immediately told the guards.

Councilor Yusi rushed into the room with Qutlug Khatun. The sight was horrific and was sure to torment the mind for years to come. The white silk sheets were stained pink from the copious amount of blood. Tengri's skin had turned a nasty gray hue and blood caked to his lips, nose, and neck.

"Your Highness," he grabbed Qutlug's arm. "If I had known the damage was to this extent, I would have not permitted you to come."

She brushed his hand off. The longer she stared at her son's corpse, the quicker her mind formulated a new plan. The empire was soon to collapse now that her husband and sons were dead. She wouldn't be able to keep this a secret as she was sure the servants were gossiping already.

"Do not tell anyone about this until I give word," she ordered.

Yusi bowed and requested a few maids to clean the bloodbath. "The Hun princess and her maid must have escaped. I will send scouts to find them."

"You will not," she snapped, turning her head slightly. "It is better that she is gone, and that we do not where she is." Her eyes lingered on the blade smeared with her son's blood. She did not know how to feel, seeing her son with a smile on his face. Even in death, he could not wipe the arrogance off his face.

She turned to her friend and pulled him to the side. "Where is the Persian?"

"In the prison tower, Khatun."

"Have her bathed and clothed properly, then send her to my quarters." Yusi bowed and glanced back at the prince. "I never wanted Tengri to succeed as a ruler. He was cruel and indifferent to consequences," she said.

Those hard words stuck to Councilor Yusi like a sore thorn, but he understood. The Khatun had no faith in either of her sons to rule over an empire. Yet now that the prince was dead, they all faced bigger problems. The emperor would soon find out about Tengri's death and would demand answers. Perhaps, just maybe, Qutlug Khatun had a plan all along…to kill her youngest son.

The prison tower was an odd place to keep prisoners. The tower was entirely made of stone and had an open hole in the center, letting in rain, sunlight, and snow. The walls were lined with torches that were kept lit by Wasifah. She was given a box of oil, tones, and candles to keep the fires burning once a week. Food was brought to her twice a day and it was usually tea and day-old rice. As she remained imprisoned, she realized this was not a regular prison—it was a form of torture for political prisoners. Common prisoners were kept in cramped cells by the dozen and received little to no food each day.

She was grateful for what she was given.

Morning arrived and the sun shone brightly in the tower, illuminating the stone. Wasifah thought it was best to stick to a routine so she wouldn't go mad in this place. She woke each morning, made her bed, tended to the fires, said her morning prayers, washed her face, and exercised for an hour before food arrived.

The door opened, revealing a shadowy figure. Wasifah finished making the bed and stepped forward. She had not expected the guards to come so early with food. But then Councilor Yusi revealed himself as he stepped into a beam of sunlight.

"A bath has been prepared for you as well as a new set of clothes."

Wasifah was hesitant; her expression gave it away. "What is the occasion?"

"I am to take you to see the Khatun. We mustn't keep her waiting." He turned, hands behind his back. "Come with me."

It was as if the warm bath restored Wasifah. It was a vast improvement over using only a washcloth and a bucket of stale water for a bath. She was given men's slacks and a silk tunic because she was taller than most of the women here. As far as it mattered, she was relieved that she could still wear her boots.

Yusi guided her into the Khatun's chambers, which was a lot larger than she realized. There were several adjoining rooms, but in the main room, Qutlug Khatun sat on an elevated cushion. A few feet from her were a floor pillow and a tray of food.

Wasifah knelt and bowed her head out of habit. "Good morning, Your Highness."

Qutlug smiled. "It has been a long time since you've had a proper meal, I imagine."

The tower's food was horrible, but she had become accustomed to it. Meals were substantial enough, and she was used to food restrictions having served in the Persian army. Overcooked rice and iced tea paled in comparison to the bowls of crisp veggies and beef.

"If I may, Khatun…"

"Speak freely."

"Why have I been brought here? I have been locked away for months with no communication from the outside."

Qutlug set down her bowl of rice. "Prince Tengri is dead and with his death, I must prepare for chaos soon to erupt in the empire."

Disguising her joy at the prince's demise was a challenge for Wasifah. His treatment of Mara and the princess was something she did not approve of. She had no idea how he dealt with other people. Despite this, his mother exhibited almost no emotion when she brought up his passing.

"I am sorry, Khatun," she said softly. "How did he pass?"

"The Hun princess is very good with a sword," she stated flatly.

That Aurora was confined to the prison tower was now a source of great concern for Wasifah. Maybe the reason she was summoned was so she could switch places with the princess. "Please, Princess Aurora, tell me where I can find her," she pleaded. "Has harm been done to her?"

Qutlug raised a hand. "She and the chambermaid have fled. I do not know how, but they are nowhere in the palace." She could see the Persian's mind racing with worry and questions. "I have no intention of imprisoning them. Though, I am certain they will not make it very far. They do not speak any of the languages known to China."

"The princess is very resourceful," Wasifah said, careful not to reveal Aurora's knowledge of Chinese languages. "If I am permitted, I would like to go search for her."

"Your presence will raise eyebrows if I send you outside these walls," the Khatun said, her tone now deep. "I have a task for you, and it is very important. You will go to the Shah and deliver this letter." She nodded to Yusi holding a metal cylindrical cannister.

"What is in the contents of the letter?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"The Shah will agree to the terms in the letter if he wishes to maintain a peaceful relationship with the emperor."

Wasifah knew this was a political mission and knew not to ask questions. "What about the princess?"

She was fully aware that the princess's kin would try to trace her, but she made it plain that she would not assist them. "What you decide to do once the message is delivered is no concern of mine," Qutlug declared, her brow furrowing.

Wasifah lowered her head, understanding the meaning behind the Khatun's words. She was not permitted to explore outside the palace walls, yet Aurora was lost somewhere, probably desperately trying to find her way home safely. The Hunnic clans were not allowed to enter China, which made the situation worse. But the Persians were allowed entry into China as long as they were trading goods. This gave Wasifah an idea and she needed to leave for Estakhr as soon as possible.

She stood up to her full height and declared, "I will depart, Khatun." With a gentle grin, she met Qutlug's dark brown eyes. "It was clear from our conversation that you took great care of Princess Aurora, and I am grateful for that."

Qutlug inclined her head slightly. "You should be on your way, officer."

Councilor Yusi escorted the Persian from the chambers, imparting the news that a soldier would be her guide to the stables. With a solemn nod, Wasifah followed the soldier into the hallway. As she strolled through the corridor, a young woman clad in flowing silk robes hurriedly approached her. In her wake trailed five chambermaids, hurrying to match the pace of the woman. With a raised eyebrow, Wasifah stepped aside, mirroring the soldier's stance.

Tears running down her flushed cheeks, Princess Yuzhu marched toward the living quarters of the Khatun. She was determined not to stop, so the guards unlocked the door. Her fury was palpable as she stomped in, her chest puffed up. Standing by the table, Qutlug Khatun stared at her as she poured a solid stream of tea.

"Is this how one treats a member of the royal family?" She retorted, catching Qutlug off guard. "I was promised a marriage with your son, and now I am confronted with the devastating news of his death!"

"Princess, please sit down so we may discuss this…"

"Certainly not! I cannot reside in a place that permits murderers!" Yuzhu advanced, locking gazes with the elder woman. "It is said that Huna took the life of the prince. My uncle shall claim the head of that barbarian."

Qutlug Khatun stood resolute. A simple princess would not daunt her within the walls of her own domain. "Plunging your hand into a pit of serpents is hardly a sensible choice, Your Highness," she remarked with a sharpness in her tone.

"You are suggesting that we let this barbarian murderess run freely among my people?"

"I suggested nothing."

Yuzhu lifted her hand, and with a swift motion, she brought her arm around to strike the Khatun. As her wrist was caught in the firm grasp of Qutlug, a sharp squeal escaped her lips. Her arm trembled, straining with all her might against the petite Khatun. With a heave, she let her arm fall and gently massaged her aching wrist.

"My uncle will find the Huna swine and know of your treachery, Khatun," she swore.

"I have committed no acts of betrayal, princess. Best to scrape my name off your tongue, as I have dispatched a messenger to the emperor. He will be expecting you in the next fortnight." Qutlug ghosted a smile and gestured to the door. "My chambermaids have prepared your belongings for you. My sincere prayer is that you return to your city safely and promptly, princess."

Central Pannonia

Elif scurried down the path in the woods, giggling and sputtering inaudible words. She stumbled on a small puddle of muddy water, leftover from the recent thunderstorm the night before. Intrigue settled into her big hazel eyes as she stared at her reflection. Smiling, she stomped into the puddle, splashing mud all over her wool socks and leather boots.

A loud shrill escaped her lips when she was scooped up into warm arms, wrapped in leather gauntlets. "Ku-Ilm is not going to be very happy if you muddy your clothes up again," Xena said. "Maybe I should tie a rope around your waist so you don't run too far next time."

"Xena, she's not a dog."

"She would be the cutest dog if she were one. Right, Elif?"

The princess whined, trying to escape Xena's arms. Eventually, she was put back on sturdy ground and took off running. Gabrielle folded her arms and stood, shaking her head. Not far behind them were Abbaseh and Boran, talking as they walked. Occasionally, they would disappear and hide behind large trees, evading their watchers' eyes.

Gabrielle walked alongside her spouse, keeping an eye on the toddler running about. "The raids in Frank territories are more difficult than Bayan thought," she said, recalling the recent letter she received. "They may have to retreat and come back."

"So be it, but they've at least grabbed some land."

"Some," Gabrielle hummed. "I don't know how this will alleviate the debt problems if we retreat. Are you sure that Bayan's plan is foolproof?"

"I don't know about foolproof, but it's a good plan. I have a feeling that we'll be indebted to Persia until the end of time, but at least we can pay off Alboin and stop working with him." Xena sighed and saw Elif smearing her face with mud. "We just discussed this, Elif. What did I say about the mud? Ku-Ilm is not going to be happy."

Elif smiled and picked at the mud under her fingernails. "Ku! Ku!" she chirped.

"Yes, exactly. We'll need to give you a bath and change your clothes so Ku doesn't find out." Xena winked, and the little princess giggled happily.

A soldier obstructed the sunlight, standing over Elif. She looked up at the tall soldier while Xena scrubbed some of the mud off her dress. Xena lifted her head and saw the rolled parchment in the young man's hand. She gestured toward Gabrielle, and he advanced, handing over the message.

"Correspondence from Queen Rosamund," he said.

Gabrielle's brows wrinkled. "Who?"

"The new Lombard Queen and former Gepid Princess, governor."

"Alboin wasted no time there," Xena snickered. "Wed or die."

The soldier hurried back to the Adame with haste, leaving Gabrielle to lead the letter. She was visibly disturbed by the request in the letter. Not only did Rosamund tell her story of how her father was murdered, but she was also taken against her will. She was asking the Huns to assist with King Alboin's assassination and to free her from the forced marriage.

Gabrielle sat with the letter, her mind wandering. The idea was strange and dangerous—to request another empire be a part of an assassination. It certainly posed an excellent strategy to get rid of the lingering debt. If Alboin was dead, then he wouldn't need to be paid off. Gabrielle cringed at the idea of purposely wishing death upon someone for the sake of relieving debt. But she knew this empire would collapse if the debt increased.

"Abb…Abba…Abbaba," Elif echoed, pointing down the road.

Looking over, Xena and Gabrielle saw tiny Abbaseh hurrying. She was in a state of extreme distress, with sweat and tears streaming down her face. She began to run as fast as her feet would carry her, but her lungs were burning from the inside out.

Gabrielle grabbed the princess before she fell to the ground. "Abbaseh, why are you running? Where is Boran?" Her eyes searched for the younger sister. "Did she get lost?"

Abbaseh shook her head and coughed. Her hands went to her chest, trying to calm the hammering of her heart. She couldn't speak and pointed down the dirt path, violently coughing.

"Stay here with them. I will go look for Boran," Xena said, darting through the arched trees.

There was no reaction when she called Boran's name. She kept calling her name as she used her tracking abilities to trace the faint footsteps in the soil. As she glanced over a valley, her breath seized in her throat. The way Boran's body was arranged while she lay flat on a bed of leaves was unnatural.

After positioning herself between two trees, Xena checked her footing. The hill was so steep that a pile of leaves rolled down it. Using the back of her boot to halt the forward motion, she ducked her head and glided down the narrow path. She hurried over to Boran and checked for a pulse. Some life, however subtle, was there.

Xena looked for further wounds. Minor scratches on Boran's legs and arms accompanied the blood seeping from the back of her head. Taking the girl in her arms, she searched for a less strenuous way up the hill. In a flash of inspiration, she carefully placed Boran among the leaves. She proceeded to remove her cloak, which she then used to enshroud Boran. Gritting her teeth, she gathered the cloak, draped it over her shoulders, and fastened it with a knot at her waist.

With fierce determination, Xena pressed her heels into the earth, positioning herself between the tree trunks, her arms stretching wide. With the trees as her steadfast guides, she pressed onward, channeling all her strength into each determined step. With every step, a fiery ache coursed through her thighs.

Just one more step.

Crying out, she put her right foot forward, and her left lost footing. She began sliding backward, and panic settled in her stomach. A firm hand grabbed her wrist, and she looked up to see Xerxes. Xerxes pulled her forward, and she tumbled on top of him, groaning.

Gabrielle took Boran from the cloak and held her close, examining the head wound.

Xerxes gently slid out from beneath Xena and helped her up. He held her face in his hands, smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for saving her. I owe you."

She breathed, finally. "You owe me nothing. How is she? She was breathing when I found her. Her head needs immediate attention."

"I'll go alert someone to bring Ursula to the Adame," said Gabrielle.

Ursula remained with Boran throughout the night after tending the wound. There were minor bruises, which formed overnight, and scratches. Ursula cleaned the lesser wounds and waited, watching the princess. As the sun breached the sky, she checked Boran's forehead for a fever. It was a mild fever, but a safe one.

After she dumped the bowls of soiled water, she walked over to Xerxes slumped over in a chair. A gentle touch to the shoulder was all it took to wake him up. Xerxes jumped to his feet, eyes wide and alert. He ran to his daughter's bedside and skimmed her cheek.

"She has a small fever. I will send for Revkah to take my place."

He turned his body. "I can watch her. No need to send another person."

Ursula placed a hand on her hip. "Shehzade, she needs someone who is familiar with medicine. You, I cannot trust to be alone with her." She saw he was insulted, and she softened her tone. "It's to keep her safe. I meant nothing more."

He seemed to accept her explanation, as poor as it was. His attention was solely focused on Boran now. Her little chest rose and fell, which made him smile. Relief.

"I managed to stop the bleeding, but there is still a lot of blood," she told him. "She will wake with a rude headache, and she will probably be…agitated."

"We have special medicinal plants in Persia to help with ailments to the head. I could send for some if you think that'd help?"

Ursula shrugged. "Perhaps you should tell Revkah of these plants. She is gifted in healing, and she knows Persian techniques."

About that, Xerxes was curious to find out more. He had the impression that Persian physicians kept their medicinal secrets hidden from the outside world. Revkah had a special place in his heart since she was instrumental in Elif's birth. Like his faith in Ursula, his confidence in her was genuine.

"I trust you."

"Queen Rosamund wants us to help assassinate the Lombard King, who is now her husband," Anastasia reiterated the words told to her. All who were present sitting around her said yes. It had been many moons since she had shared her musings on the art of espionage. Her thoughts wandered to an era when she toiled alongside Ellac and Navaz, seizing territories and gathering intelligence on enemies. It came as a shock to discover that her counsel was sought after.

"We are already in a dangerous position," she remarked. "Persia has a sword over our heads. Even though Khosrow is family, he will not back down from relieving debt. We have asked too much of him in the last few years. Justin is unpredictable, and we don't know if we will secure more land from the Franks. I say that we should not intervene."

Although this was the response Gabrielle had hoped for, she felt a twinge of disappointment as she sighed. It was important to her that Anastasia disagree with her on this. On the other hand, she wished the debt might be settled so that the empire could thrive.

"I agree with Ana. We should not put ourselves in a vulnerable position. Aurora is still trapped in China and Khosrow has to deal with Adarmahan's leftover business," Navaz chimed in.

With her milky eyes fixed on the distant, Anastasia turned to face Gabrielle. In the depths of her intense gaze, Gabrielle could feel the fire burning in her eyes.

"You do not agree, Gabrielle."

How Anastasia was suddenly endowed with the ability to sense emotions without sight eluded Gabrielle. "If Alboin dies, then we will be relieved of our debt."

Ana arched an eyebrow. With a forward motion of her head, the coins on her kozak jingled. As a calming technique, she started running her fingers through her hair.

"Then we will send a messenger to Csaba and Farah in Constantinople."

Navaz shook his head and glared at Gabrielle. "And you are suggesting that Csaba make the decision? Are you going to propose the idea of assassinating Alboin?"

"No," she grabbed his hand firmly. "Farah will decide. She's our treasurer."

It wasn't the outcome that Gabrielle was hoping for, but she agreed to it. She planned to send a messenger out today with the letter. As she started to rise, Anastasia grabbed her calf. She sat down slowly, seeing the pain in Ana's eyes.

"Have you received any news of my granddaughter?"

"Last I heard, she was still sleeping. Would you like me to check on her?" Gabrielle asked, lacing her fingers with Ana's.

"No, I want to visit her. Navaz." She extended her hand, and he hoisted her up. "Tell my mother that she should sleep well tonight. This was not her fault. It was a horrible accident and nothing more," she said to Gabrielle.

"I will," Gabrielle called over her shoulder.

Imperial City, North China

As people navigated the lively streets, small wagons and carts interrupted the rhythm of movement. Feng Zhi tightened his grip on the reins, prompting the horse to whinny and toss its head in protest. The grand wagon he towed bore barrels of fish, the scent of which began to waft through the air, enticing the townsfolk. Increasingly, the gaze of the crowd was drawn to Feng's wagon.

As the throng of people gradually faded away, Feng guided his wagon towards a merchant stall nestled on the fringes of the bustling market. A robust figure loomed over the wooden table, meticulously gutting fish and casting aside the skeletal remains into a bin. After a brief hesitation, Feng finally locked eyes with the man, unveiling a pouch of coins that had been concealed beneath his cloak.

"The barrels marked with X's are the transporters," Feng murmured softly, leaning closer to the man. "Half now, and the remainder shall be yours once I confirm the transport has been received." He proffered the coin purse, only to swiftly seize it back. "How can I place my faith in a man who bears the name of 'The Butcher'?"

The man let out a hearty laugh, his fingers deftly closing around the coin purse. "So, you've been conversing with the wise ones, have you? It has been two decades since that name last graced my ears. Your wares shall be transported, boy."

Feng retreated from the Butcher and settled beside the flickering firepit. He retrieved his pouch of foodstuffs from the saddlebag. Strips of cured flesh dangled above the flames, warming the meat as its rich fat sizzled and fell into the fire below. The meat crackled and hissed, releasing its savory essence as it cooked with a deliberate slowness.

He sank his teeth into the meat, only to feel the searing heat scorch his tongue. With a sense of intrigue, he sifted through the refuse of the Butcher's garbage bin and uncovered a weathered piece of parchment, its edges frayed. It bore the name of a youthful Huna, accompanied by an account of the crime she had carried out. Feng pronounced her name, the strangeness of it slipping from his lips with a certain awkwardness.

"Murderer of the Rouran Prince?" he gasped. "Hey, what do you know about this Huna girl?"

The Butcher squinted and wiped the fish blood off his forehead. He thought he had gotten rid of that parchment. "Some propaganda from the emperor's family, I'd say."

"Have you seen her around?"

"Why? You know her?"

Feng groaned. "Have you seen her or not?"

A sly grin crept across the Butcher's face. "That will require an additional payment, boy. Curiosity demands a price." A handful of coins fell into his outstretched palm, and he swiftly tucked them away into his pocket. "I have seen her travel through here a few times each week. A fair girl, her hair—long, quite long—to her hips, and light eyes, mmhm."

"The imperial army is searching for her. It says she murdered the Rouran Prince, and you haven't reported her?"

Chuckling, the man slapped Feng's shoulder. "As if I need those soldiers snooping 'round here. Don't want 'em to find out about our little deal, do we?" he turned to the water basin and washed his face and hands. "She probably didn't kill him, and if she did, he must've done somethin' to deserve it. But she didn't look like a killer to me."

The image of imperial soldiers sifting through the fish barrels sent a chill down his spine. Feng vowed to his uncle that this matter would be kept under wraps. The emperor was aware of the myriad of trades that flowed across the empire's borders, yet the origins of the wealth and the masterminds behind the commerce remained a mystery to him. Feng resolved that safeguarding the Butcher's secrets was essential for his very existence.

"I need to find a cobbler in the market. Tell me if you see her again?"

The Butcher held out his hand for additional payment, to which Feng rolled his eyes.

"Is money all you care about?"

"You want your goods transported with no issue, don't you? Hand over the coin, and I'll keep an eye out for your Huna girl."

The spring brought rain showers periodically, and tonight, the rain was heavier than usual. Aurora walked the market streets, carrying a bag of gold jewelry that she aimed to sell. It was smart of Mara to take several pieces of jewelry from the palace and use it to their advantage. But as the weeks went by, their presence in the imperial city was becoming too noticeable.

Merchants refused to buy the jewelry after a while. Aurora knew the stall owners talked among each other and must've realized her and Mara's game. She went to other merchants on the outskirts, hoping someone would buy the jewelry. It was too dangerous to travel with pounds of gold, so getting rid of it was the best option.

Aurora stopped at a stall, where two young men served fried vegetables. She met eyes with one of the men and smiled, throwing some coins into a cup. In just minutes, she was given a large leaf filled with fried vegetables. As she stood beneath a canopy eating the vegetables, a squad of soldiers emerged. The hair on her skin prickled. The soldiers wore particular armor that Aurora remembered from the palace.

She crumpled the leaf in her palm and threw it on the ground. Throwing the cloak hood over her head, Aurora hurried through a narrow dark alley. Trying not to draw too much attention, she looked over her shoulder. The soldiers advanced, seeing her leaving. Their steps increased from a fast trot to a run.

Run, Aurora, run.

Those were the words her mother had spoken on the night of Bilge Khagan's murder. However, this voice was not her mother's; it was deeper, steadier, and yet still familiar.

Do not look back, Aurora. Keep running.

She raced through the dark, rain-lashed alleyways, the water striking her face like a flurry of glass shards. The voice pulsed in her ears, almost like a calming melody, urging her to quicken her pace.

Feng sat in the cobbler's shop, drinking tea and listening to the rain. The cobbler was taking a while to repair his boots, but he expected as much. His uncle always told him to pack an extra pair, but he didn't listen.

A flash of black and red scurried by the doorway, followed by a legion of black-leather armored soldiers. Feng crawled on his knees and poked his head outside. The cloaked figure darted to the left, and the imperial soldiers followed.

"Huna," he muttered.

He rushed out into the rain, leaving the cobbler mystified. Sprinting through the muddied streets, soaking his stockings, he saw a flash at his left. Feng saw her again, running through the west side of the market. If she kept going, she would end up near the palace checkpoint, surrounded by more guards.

There was a strange urge to follow her—to help her. He did not know this young woman, nor did she know him. With his breath steady against the rainy winds, Feng shimmied through a narrow path between two large buildings. He closed his eyes and listened to the stampede of boots, one set lighter than the other.

She was near.

At the right moment, Feng stepped out into the light and snatched Aurora. He covered her mouth before she could scream and dragged her into the alleyway. They shimmied against the buildings, their bodies touching, until they were back on the east side of the market.

Aurora pushed him away, and Feng looked into her eyes. He hadn't ever seen eyes that shade of green before. They reminded him of the ocean. He'd only seen the sea twice in his life, once with his father and another with his uncle. Both times, he was a small boy, and his memories were foggy, but the sea was a place he could never forget.

"Who are you? Why did you save me?" she asked.

Feng blinked in surprise. He was not expecting his language to glide off her tongue so effortlessly.

"Do you not know how to answer questions?" Aurora pulled a knife out of her boot and held it up to his throat. "Speak now or I'll leave your body for the guards to find."

"A…Aur-ora," he said brokenly.

Her eyes flared, and she pressed the blade into his neck, drawing blood. "I ask again, who are you?"

"Feng Zhi." He reached into his cloak and showed her the parchment. "You are wanted by the emperor's guard. They will not stop searching until they find you. It isn't safe for you to be here."

Aurora drew back the blade while maintaining a firm hold on it. She read the parchment and gave it her whole attention. A bounty was placed on her head. Once again, the voice that had spoken to her before materialized, this time whispering jumbled words into her ear. A soothing warmth emanated from the low, comforting voice.

"I can take you to a safe place, far from the imperial city," said Feng.

"I do not know you."

"And I do not know you, but the entire state of China will know who you are soon. Your days are numbered. I am offering a place for you to hide. It is your choice, but you'll likely be dead come morning."

Aurora sheathed her knife and glided past, disappearing into the shadows. She glanced over her shoulder, and Feng's gaze bore into her with a fervor that compelled her to stop in her tracks. His offer carried a weight of sincerity, and she found herself drawn to it. For weeks, she sought refuge from the imperial army, yet it was naive to believe she would find safety in this place. She found herself at a loss, uncertain of the path to take or the means to escape China. She found herself in a place shrouded in uncertainty.

Her gaze drifted toward Feng Zhi, and an inexplicable sense of trust began to blossom within her. He seemed neither threatening nor malevolent. Given his youthful look, Aurora surmised he was of her age or perhaps only slightly older. His long, dark hair cascaded to his elbows, adorned with small braids intricately woven throughout. The ink etched upon his chin and forehead stirred within Aurora a vivid recollection of her mother's own tattoos. An air of calmness surrounded this peculiar young man.

"If I pay you…will you tell me of a safe way to leave China?"

Feng smiled. "There is no safe way out of here. I can get you out of the imperial city, and that's the best I can do."

She contemplated the offer in less than a minute. "I have someone with me. I'll need to tell her that we're leaving."