Chapter 6

I had underestimated Bui Chieu Dan.

He had caught me completely off guard.

I was nearly dozing when the corner of my eye caught a glimpse of a carrier pigeon.

A patch between its gray wings was featherless.

I looked closely and sat up straight.

I had once rescued a carrier pigeon with an injured wing. It was the same bird. I had even brought it home and cared for it for a while.

I hurriedly whistled for it.

It obediently flew over to the window.

As I stroked it, I anxiously took out paper and brush and wrote a letter.

I carefully rolled it up and slipped it into the tiny tube tied to the pigeon’s leg. After a moment’s thought, I took the jade ring I had stolen from Ta Thuat, threaded a red cord through it, and tied it to the bird as well.

At last, I raised my hand and let it fly away.

I hoped Ta Thuat would see it.

The sky gradually darkened.

I leaned back on the chaise and closed my eyes for a short rest.

Then heavy footsteps sounded,

waking me from a sleep that had been uneasy to begin with.

The moment I saw what lay between the long fingers of the person who had just arrived, my vision went dark.

Bui Chieu Dan slowly walked up to me.

Then he unrolled the letter.

He smiled faintly and read it aloud in a leisurely, slightly lilting voice.

“To Ta Thuat, who will open this letter himself: Ever since the new emperor usurped the throne, I have been imprisoned deep in the palace, cut off from the sunlight. When the long nights descend, I lie alone and cannot sleep; my heart is full of longing for you. I once hoped we could kneel before the red wedding candles and spend our lives together. Who could have imagined that the winds would change overnight and leave me trapped in this prison? Please come quickly and rescue me from this sea of misery.”

When he finished,

the letter slipped gently from his fingers.

I had written it myself, yet hearing him read it still made my face burn by turns.

To lure Ta Thuat into rescuing me, I had thrown propriety and shame to the wind. The more saccharine and cringeworthy the words, the better.

I noticed the blood on Bui Chieu Dan’s fingertip.

Something occurred to me, and I sprang to my feet.

My voice trembled. “Did you shoot it dead?”

Bui Chieu Dan didn’t answer. He merely said coolly, “You’re so foolish. That letter of yours didn’t tell the pigeon where to go. It could only fly around the city in circles.”

He gently lifted my chin. “You’re the one who got it killed.”

I stared at him, stunned.

Bui Chieu Dan pulled me into his arms and brushed his lips against my ear.

His voice softened, with a faint note of confusion.

“Khanh Khanh, what exactly went wrong between us?”

I parted my lips,

but couldn’t find a thing to say.

Just then,

hurried footsteps rushed to the palace doors.

A guard dropped to one knee, his voice panicked.

“Your Majesty! The heir of the Marquis of Sung Ninh has brought his personal troops into the palace without permission. Someone inside opened the gates for them. Our men have fought them all the way here, but they can’t stop Ta Thuat!”

My eyes widened in disbelief.

The letter hadn’t even reached him. Had Ta Thuat come anyway?

Bui Chieu Dan still held me in his arms. His expression darkened, and he spoke with scorn.

“Are the two of you really that deeply in love?”

11

Dusk cast a gloomy hue over the palace road.

Ta Thuat wore a pale blue-white brocade robe, his tall figure straight as a bamboo stalk.

But his usually gentle brows were now clouded with coldness, and the long sword in his hand was stained with fresh blood.

The marquis’s household troops had been stopped by Bui Chieu Dan’s men. Ta Thuat had cut and fought his way here alone.

I saw the shadow of the man he had been in my previous life.

Bui Chieu Dan said indifferently, “You may have made it this far, but you won’t be able to take her away safely.”

Ta Thuat raised his eyes and replied calmly, “How would I know unless I try?”

I stared at Ta Thuat.

He sensed my gaze and smiled reassuringly.

Bui Chieu Dan’s arm tightened around my waist.

But he soon let me go.

“Do you want to go with him?” Bui Chieu Dan asked coolly.

I hesitated. “…May I?”

Bui Chieu Dan gave a low chuckle and stepped back, gesturing for me to do as I pleased.

As I nervously moved, one slow step at a time, toward Ta Thuat,

Bui Chieu Dan’s voice sounded behind me, cold enough to freeze the air, yet utterly calm.

“Crossbows. Take your positions.”

In an instant, the sharp twang of drawn strings rang out all around us.

Countless crossbows, rank upon rank, aimed straight at Ta Thuat and me.

My steps froze. The blood in my veins seemed to turn to ice.

I had no idea when countless hidden guards had surrounded us.

Or perhaps they had been there all along.

“What does this mean?” I asked quietly.

Bui Chieu Dan only looked at me, calm and unreadable.

I stood motionless.

In my previous life, I had taken an arrow for Bui Chieu Dan. In this life, he wanted to shoot me dead. Wouldn’t that make it a circle of karmic retribution?

I remained silent for a long time.

Then I smiled and looked Bui Chieu Dan straight in the eye, enunciating each word.

“Shoot.”

The ending would be awful either way.

Perhaps it was better to die and be done with it.

Silence filled the space. Not a sound was heard.

Every hidden guard waited for Bui Chieu Dan’s command.

Then I walked step by step toward Ta Thuat. He watched me silently.

Unspoken emotions flickered in his eyes.

Bui Chieu Dan’s expression was dark and cold. His thin lips parted.

“You two really are a pair of lovebirds bent on dying together.”

His voice was steeped in disgust.

At that deadlock, with no way out and no hope of survival, a band of battered soldiers rushed toward us from a short distance away.