Yuehwa's eyes flew open. She was lying in Shoya's arms, with the latter looking down at her with concern. No bloodstained armour, no sword in his hand. She looked around. She was back in the forest, instead of the Hwa palace.

"What happened?" she croaked. Her hand instinctively went to her throat as she tried to catch her breath. It felt constricted, and it stung when her fingers came into contact with her skin.

"You were trapped in an illusion conjured by dark magic," Shoya explained, helping her back up to her feet. "She was trying to strangle you with this," he held up a long, white cord of silk, "while you were unconscious. When I came, she fled."

Yuehwa took the silk cord and scoffed, throwing it down onto the ground. To think she had almost died at the hands of such an unworthy opponent, and she wouldn't even have known how it happened. It was her own fault for being so complacent.

"What are you doing here? How is the king?" she asked.

"I purged almost all the poison from his body, but whether or not he'll survive depends on the will of the heavens," Shoya replied. He took her wrist to check her pulse. "How are you feeling?"

She reckoned she looked a mess, given how worried Shoya seemed to be. But it wasn't because of the near-strangulation, but the residual fear that was still running through her veins because of what she saw in the illusion.

Was it really an illusion?

It had felt so real. The flames and smoke, the debris, the blood and death.

And Shoya, standing in front of her with that damned sword in his hand, the sword that he had pointed at her. He wanted to kill her, like how he had killed her entire family. Suddenly she felt something inside her snap, like a crack in the floodgates, releasing a gush of unbridled rage that gripped her mind.

"How could he have done that? How dare he!" a voice was screaming at her. A voice that sounded eerily like her own.

"Yuehwa."

"You can't trust him. He's lied to you once, he's lying to you still."

"Yuehwa, look at me."

"He will destroy everything you love. Your kingdom, your home, your family. Everything."

"Yuehwa!"

She was abruptly jolted back to reality, her mind re-focusing on the man standing in front of her. He raised his arm, and she realised that she was gripping on to his wrist, so tightly that she could feel the bone beneath his skin come close to snapping. She immediately let go.

"What's wrong? Did you experience the illusion again?"

Yuehwa shook her head.

"Your pulse feels normal, but there's no saying whether or not there'll be any side effects. We should monitor your condition over the next few days, just to be safe."

Side-effects. Like a voice that had sprung up inside her head, whispering and calling out to the innermost reaches of her mind, reaching towards the locked door behind which she kept her darkest fears and insecurities. She parted her lips to say something, then she shut them again. How was she supposed to tell Shoya that she was hearing a voice that was warning her against him? What if the voice was right?

She plastered a nonchalant smile on her face instead and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm fine," she said. "A little shaken maybe. After all, it's not every day you get to be a victim to dark magic." She brushed some stray flecks of grass off her trousers and began marching back towards the direction of the camp. "At least we have confirmation that Lady Kang is a practitioner of the dark arts, and that she's responsible for the king's condition. We should find Ru Fei and regroup. It won't be so easy to get to the woman now that she knows we're on her tail."

#

They gathered back in Wen Shu's manor in the city of Muya, discussing the next step to take after their infiltration of the Dahai army encampment. A piece of parchment lay on the table, with a few sparse lines written on it in a neat, elegant hand.

The men might not have recognised the handwriting at one glance, but Yuehwa did.

The letter came from Princess Naying—her friend. Except she wasn't sure if things between them could go back to the way they were, not after she had reclaimed her true identity as princess and regent of Hwa.

"We should send this to Prince Baixun," Ru Fei said. "If the princess is working with Lady Kang, then he might still be in danger even if he manages to regain control over the Gi army."

The only thing Ru Fei had discovered in Lady Kang's tent was this correspondence from Princess Naying. In the letter, the princess spoke of her worries regarding Baixun's disappearance, and demanded to know whether or not her father's consort had lied to her about the effects of the draught.

It didn't take much to surmise that this "draught" that Naying spoke of was the cause of Baixun's unfortunate encounter in the Jilin moutains that had left him unconscious and almost cost him his life. Given how much Naying loved Baixun, Yuehwa was certain that the princess had not intended to take her husband's life. She had probably been lied to by Lady Kang and used like a marionette on strings. But would intentions matter when it concerned the life of a kingdom's heir? If Naying's role in this entire situation was revealed, she would be condemned as a traitor, deemed to have betrayed her husband's kingdom for the sake of the ambitions of her own.

"Commander Ru is right," Shoya said, sensing her hesitation. "We need to consider the bigger picture. Baixun is not an unreasonable man. He will be lenient on Princess Naying."

Yuehwa wasn't as confident about that. Baixun was not unreasonable, but he was also a man who would soon be king. Compassion was not a trait that most kings were known to value.

Still, she nodded in agreement. "We should arrange to meet with Baixun to discuss our strategy for dealing with Lady Kang and Dahai. We can show him the letter then," she said. She preferred to have the chance to speak to the prince personally, and plead leniency towards Naying's sentence.

#

But they didn't have to show Baixun the letter at all, for when the trio arrived at the Gi military camp, they found a trembling crown princess prostrated on the ground with her hair and clothes in disarray, her face streaked in tears as she tried to defend herself against the heinous crime she had committed. Had they not known, they would not have recognised the distraught girl as the famous rose princess, once the most beautiful jewel of the kingdoms.

"Baixun! What do you think you're doing?" Yuehwa exclaimed the moment she laid eyes on this sight.

The crown prince of Gi was seated behind his long mahogany work table at the front of the spacious, rectangular tent, with his trusted aide Maroo standing beside him. He wore a grim expression on his face, and it darkened when he saw Yuehwa, Shoya and Ru Fei enter.

Yuehwa rushed to Naying's side, wanting to help her back up to her feet, but the swung her hand away vehemently, insisting on remaining on her knees.

"Please, Baixun, you have to believe me," Naying cried, her words coming out in a garbled mess, "I didn't know things would be so serious. All I wanted was for you to... was for you to..." She glanced sideways at Yuehwa, and in those reddened eyes, Yuehwa thought she saw the hint of venom, but then it was gone, like a ripple in the water. The princess broke down in a fit of sobs again.

"Looks like we didn't have to make this trip after all," Shoya quipped, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyed the situation.

Baixun skimmed the letter that Ru Fei had passed to Maroo, then he said, "I suppose this means that all of you are aware of what's happened. This is a family matter, so I'll not need to trouble you with it."

Yuehwa opened her mouth to protest, but Shoya stepped forward and cut in.

"Of course, you're free to settle your family matters, but perhaps you could put this aside for a moment. We're here to discuss the matter about Dahai."

"This has nothing to do with my father!" Naying burst out. She dashed forward, grabbing hold of Baixun's left leg. "Baixun, none of this is my father's doing. It's Lady Kang. She was the one who put me up to this. She's the one who's behind all of this. She's trying to get me killed!"

"You're right about one thing, Princess," Shoya said, "but perhaps you think a little too highly of yourself."

Yuehwa shot him a warning glare. Was there a need for him to be so snide? Naying was already beyond herself with stress and anxiety with the potential charges that were to be laid upon her head, and her father and kingdom were in grave peril.

"I know it is not my place, but I think it would be best to set this matter aside for the moment," Yuehwa interceded. "The crown princess could not have intentionally meant to harm you, Baixun. It is likely that she was tricked into it."

To her surprise, Naying turned towards her and said, "I don't need your charity. All this is your fault, Lee Yue. None of this would have happened if you hadn't appeared."

"Excuse me?" Yuehwa was taken aback by Naying's outburst—and by the hatred that seemed to be emanating from the princess's reddened eyes.

Maroo cleared his throat. "There is one more thing... We've also found out that Princess Naying was responsible for the poisoning of the young crown prince of Hwa. She had bribed one of the prince's palace servants to scatter the powder on his clothes."

The revelation shook Yuehwa to the core. She shook her head in disbelief. "That's... that's not possible. How could it be? How could you..."

Naying was supposed to be her friend. After all they had gone through, how could Naying have betrayed her in this manner, by wishing harm upon her family? Yang-yang was only a child, yet the princess had thought to send him to his death.

"Yes, it was me," Naying replied, with no hint of remorse in her voice or manner. "With the crown prince of Hwa gone, nothing will stand in Baixun's way of dominating the five kingdoms. I will do anything to help my husband."

"Do not use me as an excuse!" Baixun shouted, throwing a slap across the princess's face. The girl tumbled backwards, clutching her right cheek in shock. "I never asked you to do such a thing. You did it on your own accord out of jealousy and spite. Don't try to use my name to justify your horrid actions." Fuming, he waved his hand irritably and said, "Maroo, take the princess back to her quarters and tell the guards that she is not allowed to leave her tent without my approval." He ignored the pleading cries from Naying as she was forcibly herded out of Baixun's tent by his chief aide.

Shoya wrapped an arm around Yuehwa's shoulder. "It's alright. At least no harm came to Yang-yang in the end. We can settle matters with Naying later," he said softly.

Yuehwa sucked in a breath, trying to calm the upheaval that was going on inside her. This was not what she had expected to find out upon coming here. Heck, she had come here to plead for leniency for Naying, only to discover that the latter's crimes were far more unforgiveable than what she had thought.

"I'm sorry, Yuehwa," Baixun said. "I promise you that I will give you a satisfactory response once all this is over."

Yuehwa nodded, re-focusing her mind on the more important mission at hand. "Lady Kang is a practitioner of the dark arts," she said. "I witnessed it for myself." I was trapped in it. Maybe I still am.

She still hadn't told anyone, but the whispering voices in her head had not ceased, not in the five days it had taken them to travel from Muya to the Gi encampment. Every night, they would accost her subsconcious, reminding her of various dark possibilities, each one more plausible than the next. Of destruction. Of doom. Of death.

Each morning she would wake up in cold sweat, fear pulsating through her veins, memories of what she had seen in that illusion—of her family lying in pools of blood—imprinted even more deeply in her mind.

She had to actively remind herself that none of this was real. But how long would she be able to keep up her defences? What if she was defending against the wrong enemy all along?

"So she is the one who's behind all this? She's the mastermind?" Baixun asked.

"I doubt she's working alone, but unfortunately we haven't managed to weed out her compatriots. The woman is very careful," Shoya replied. "She's also been poisoning the king of Dahai with a slow-acting poison, and he's nearing the end of his days." He stopped, as if waiting for a reaction from Baixun, but there was none. The crown prince's face remained calm, his fingers drumming steadily against the tabletop as he contemplated upon what he had been told.

Yuehwa had always known that Baixun's heart was cold, from the moment he had openly suggested taking her as queen even though he was to marry Naying. To him, feelings and emotions were worth less than his ambitions, and anything could be sacrificed along the path towards the crown.

She snuck a sideways glance at Shoya, his familiar white robes flowing carelessly at the hems, hands casually resting behind his back, fingers gripping to the black scabbard of his crystal-hilted sword.

Are you also the same? Will you also be willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of your crown?

She had seen what Shoya had gone through in order to reclaim his birthright. She had walked beside him as he battled the cursed bronze guardsmen, as he fought in the deadly Dahai tournament, as he carefully navigated each treacherous step in the kingdom of Feng until he finally achieved his goal. She had helped him every step of the way.

But did it matter?

"If the king of Dahai dies then those dark arts practitioners will seize the opportunity to take over control of his army," Baixun said, "but that won't be enough for them to invade our kingdoms, not if we band together."

As an island kingdom, Dahai's military strength lay in their navy, not their land forces. Without the support of Gi and Geum, Dahai was no match for anyone. That was why the king had been so intent on seeking an alliance with Baixun.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Shoya replied solemnly. "Do you remember what happened in the past? From the founding history of our kingdoms?"

Baixun arched a brow, gesturing for him to continue.

"In the Battle of Tangshan Pass, the armies of Wudi came close to exterminating the remnants of the bandit king, not because they were more skilled or numerous—by then the Wudi coffers had been depleted till only scraps remained and army defectors numbered in the thousands—but because they had the help of dark magic."

This part of history had been buried along with the icy remains of the temple of Horanjit, and none of the kingdoms' historical records would relay the true horrors that Hwang Nanzhe's men faced in that pivotal battle.

"The monks of Horanjit described the effects of dark magic on the Wudi army as a corruption. Interpret this as you will, because I'm not entirely sure what this meant either, but whatever they did was enough to almost eradicate the last of the insurgency. Had it not been for the timely aid of the monks, Hwang Nanzhe would not have won."

"But how did he win, if these dark magic practitioners are as powerful as you seem to think they are?" Baixun asked, leaning forward with interest.

Yuehwa's eyes dimmed as she recalled the riddle they had found within Wan Jue's crypt.

A life for a life, a soul for a soul, and from the darkness comes the dawn.

"We haven't figured that part out yet," Shoya said.

"Really?"

Baixun sounded sceptical of Shoya's reply. Unsurprising, given that Maroo had been with them when they discovered Hwang Nanzhe's hidden goods and the porcelain tiger, and would have conveyed all this information to his prince. But Baixun wouldn't know of the similar statue that stood in the Feng astrology vault, or about Wan Jue's secret crypt, so there was no way for him to decipher whether or not Shoya was indeed hiding things from him.

If he suspected anything, he chose not to probe.

"Still, I think we give these dark magic charlatans too much credit. Hwang Nanzhe's 'army' comprised of riff-raff, commoners that took up arms to join his cause, but they were hardly anywhere near as trained as the Wudi army. Maybe that was the main reason why they almost lost the Battle of Tangshan Pass."

"Riff-raff?" Shoya scoffed. "Those untrained commoners you speak of raised a revolution that toppled an empire. Your own ancestors were among them. If I were you, I would not belittle what they were capable of, even if they might have come from humble origins."

"Enough, the both of you!" Yuehwa interrupted, glaring at the two men irritably. She had enough weighing on her mind without two squabbling children adding to the ruckus. "Debating history will not help us to solve the problem. The fact is that Lady Kang and her cronies have something up the sleeves and she's very likely to accelerate her plans now that she knows we're on her case. We will need to gather our troops quickly. Shoya and I have already sent word back to our kingdoms to deploy additional troops to this border, but they will need at least another five days to arrive. In the meantime, you and your men will need to fend off any attack from the Dahai camp, because Muya's defenses are in shambles. How many men do you have?"

"A little over ten thousand."

Ten thousand. That was barely more than what the Dahai army had, based on her estimations. They could only pray that it would be enough to hold off Lady Kang until reinforcements arrived—or until they found a way to defeat her for good.

But they were out of time.

The deep, ominous bellow of a war horn interrupted their conversation, followed by the fervent drumming of battle drums coming from the direction of the main city gates. A sign that an attack was imminent.

"Your Highness!"

A young general came rushing into the tent, bowing hastily to Baixun.

"Dahai has launched an attack?" Baixun asked.

The commander nodded. "But Your Highness, I think you should come and take a look at this. I'm not sure... I'm not sure what it is that we're facing," he replied, fear and uncertainty hanging from his trembling words.

Everyone quickly followed the commander to the towering watchpost at the camp's main gate, where they were met by a murky sea of grey slowly inching its way towards them from the distance, from which billows of smokey tendrils seemed to be rising towards the skies. An army of storm clouds, accompanied by a low, monstrous rumbling that sounded unlike anything they had ever heard before.

It was an approaching army—and it wasn't.

"That cannot be the army of Dahai," Ru Fei murmured. From what they knew, Dahai didn't have that many troops to stretch across what seemed to be the entire visible horizon. Even if they still had the support of Gi, this was impossible.

At the gates, the soldiers on duty struggled to keep their composure in the face of the approaching threat, yet there was no disguising the terror that was etched in their eyes. Their hands trembled as they gripped on to their swords and shields, knowing that what was waiting for them was only death.

Yuehwa narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better glimpse at the nearing horde.

"It's not... human," she whispered.

Or at least, not anymore.