In the autumn of my eighth year, XiXi and the old astrologer once snuck me out of the palace. It must have been around the time of the grand carnival, for the city had donned a bizarre, ghoulish mask that rendered it unrecognizable and magnificent. Performers walked from roof to roof on tightropes; men ate swords and spit out fire; people danced in the streets. I was so entranced I barely allowed myself to blink. I remember the old man bought me a stick of candied hawthorne. Even now, I can sometimes still taste its cloying sweetness. My fondest memory of childhood.

Years later, when I was still in love with Zhao Yun, I often dreamt about walking through those vibrant streets with him by my side, asking for him for that sickly sweet hawthorne . . .

No longer. We passed the sweetseller without pause, and I could only smile at how quickly dreams change.

There were other changes. We were no longer in the opulent capital of Rong, no longer in Rong territory even--imagine that! The city of YiHai sat on a major trade route at the border of Rong and Jing, but technically belonged to Jing. Over the years, alongside the rise of Rong, it had transformed from a nameless village to a merchant's tax haven, being situated just far enough from the capitals of the two kingdoms to avoid financial scrutiny. That's why I steered us here. Maybe we could escape political scrutiny as well, if we were so lucky.

It's strange that you know all this, Zhao Yun had remarked when we first set foot in town. But why? After all, hadn't I spent my youth alone, buried within the hundreds of scrolls of the royal library, trying to live through the stories they told? Once, I thought could impress him with my knowledge.

YiHai wasn't the capital, but it was magnificent in its own way as it geared up for the mid-Autumn festival. As we wound our way around the gleaming, cobblestone roads, chased by gusts of icy wind, I still couldn't bear to blink. My eyes, despite everything, wanted to drink in every last drop of colorful life that suffused this small town. Bitter exhilaration, to relive that distant memory.

So we passed the sweetseller, then the rows of small stalls offering bits of this and that: cheap hair clips, paper lanterns, warm pastries. The mooncakes were particularly tempting--the whole town seemed enshrouded in their warm scent. I was briefly reminded of family, and I wondered if the old astrologer was still alive. If he still ever thought of XiXi and me. They were as much family as I had ever had, not that it mattered much. They were long gone and I had no money for mooncakes.

Past all this, we came upon the main bazaar at the center of town. Its stalls were lined with exotic goods from the south that a band of merchants had just brought to town. There were dried apricots and jade buddhas and fragrant tea leaves and reams and reams of silk. I was seized by a sudden desire for all of it, even though I had never wanted it before.

Zhao Yun slid his hood over his head and motioned for me to follow close. In our dark cloaks, we glided among the stalls like shadows, watchful but unnoticed.

Yun paused his steps by the stall where an old woman ran shrewd eyes over a ream of crimson cloth as her retinue of servants watched. The merchant running the stall, a rotund, weatherbeaten man of fifty, barely registered our presence; no doubt he had sniffed out the scent of money and knew it wasn't coming from us. He chatted the old woman up with a supplicating smile.

Your young mistress is soon to be wed then? Whoever's the lucky man?

But it's atrocious! She proposes to choose through a duel. Have you heard of such a thing?

Ah, a duel among men? Certainly not unprecedented.

And with her. She proposes to fight them herself!

My ears perked up. A duel? I stole a glance at the old woman's outraged expression and was seized by the desire to ask her why. Why shouldn't women duel? Better that than to be sold off to the highest bidder. Had I been offered the option, I would no doubt would have . . . but then, I was not offered the option.

The old woman ordered five yards of the crimson and tossed the merchant a hefty sack of coins. His fleshy face was wreathed in smiles as he watched her dawdle away with her entourage. Immediately after, he took the coins from the sack and counted them carefully in his palm, his eyes glittering with golden greed.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

That was our chance. So blatantly immersed was he in his task that for a few moments, he barely noticed anything else. He didn't notice, for example, Zhao Yun glide by his stall and swipe his nimble fingers across the counter, taking with them a different sack of coins that the merchant had left strewn about.

And by the time he noticed later and raised the hew and cry, the two of us had long disappeared, dissolved into a current of townspeople that carried out us the town gates and into the safety of the forests beyond.

*

"Ten pieces of silver," Zhao Yun murmured thoughtfully. "That's enough to get us somewhere."

I didn't look at him, in case he would catch my smile. A princess and a duke's heir, subsisting off ten pieces of silver. Have you heard of anything more absurd? And that wasn't the least of it. Here we were, nestled in an abandoned temple buried in a grim forest. Its creaking, wooden beams were rotting at the center, and I was thankful that they stood up at all, to shield us from the wolves and the elements. Beyond that, we had only a small fire to warm us and a few dry rolls to fill our stomachs and ten pieces of silver to tide us through until who knows when . . .

"What are you thinking, Your Highness?" Yun tilted his head and trapped me with his steely grey eyes that slanted just slightly at the corners, like the watchful eyes of a cat. How many women had he fooled with those eyes?

I quickly retracted my smile and shook my head, saying quietly, "You needn't call me that anymore. I'm no longer a Princess. I'm just--"

"Shuang."

I froze. How many years had it been since he'd called me that?

He smiled nonchalantly, just a slight tilt at the corner of his thin lips, a hint of mischief in his eyes. The kind of smile that drew long looks from ladies at court. "I can call you Shuang then, can't I?"

Can I call you Shuang, Your Highness? There it was again, that unwelcome echo of the past.

I forced myself to shrug as if it hardly mattered, and whispered, "If you'd like."

There followed a long stretch of silence in which the only thing that could be heard was the soft crackles of the fire and the aching creaks of the wood as it endured the persistent assault of the wind. I could feel him looking at me from time to time, as if confirming I was still there.

"You don't have to stay here with me," I said suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean, you have no obligation. I can fend for myself. I thank you for your service so far, but we're safe now, and I . . . I can go the rest of the way myself, especially dressed as I am. They wouldn't be looking for a boy."

I didn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes, or the way his lips twisted into a cold smirk. "Is that so? And where do you propose to go?"

"Far away. The south. I-I can read and write. I'm sure there will be some work for me."

"Work?" he drawled, cocking a brow in that imperious way of his. "There will always be work for penniless, young girls, though I doubt you'll be a scribe. There are more lucrative trades . . . "

"I-"

"Don't be a little fool," he interrupted, suddenly dropping his act of cruelty. With a rueful smile and a gentle gaze, he said, "I'll stay with you until the end."

My heart skipped a beat despite myself. Even now, he could still lie so effortlessly.

I escaped his eyes and turned to stare at the fire, suddenly exhausted and numb. I recalled that it's been four days since we escaped from the carnage. How did we even make it out alive? There were so many of them. Even Yun, who wielded the sword as well as the god of war, couldn't defeat them all. And I was useless, stuck in the carriage and frozen with fright. I was so sure I would die.

But then, Yun pulled me out--and why had he done that, I keep wondering, when he hates me so--he pulled me out and dragged me behind him in our race against time. I don't think we've stopped running since. And now he says he'd stay with me until the end? The end of what?

A small yawn forced itself out of me and my eyelids began to droop. Shuang, I thought I heard him say. Or maybe I didn't? He hadn't called my name so gently in years. Anyway, I was too far gone to answer.

When I opened my eyes again, it was morning and Zhao Yun was gone.