I released Prince Yanming’s hand gently. “When things settle down, you must come for a visit. I will show you my home with its silver roof. The osmanthus forest, and the thousand lanterns which you can help us light.”

Empty promises to trick children into behaving better, my mind scoffed, even as despair enveloped me. The last I had seen of my home were the flames devouring it. Did any part remain? I did not know … and perhaps, I never would.

Prince Yanming’s smile stretched across his face. “Promise?”

Liar that I was, I nodded.

Footsteps clicked across the tiles, growing louder. An immortal entered the hall, clad in familiar brocade robes, a black hat upon his head adorned with a piece of flat jade. A Celestial messenger. My fingers inched toward my mother’s hand, clutching her in warning.

The messenger knelt before the queen, holding up a scroll between his palms—thick yellow brocade rolled around twin bars of sandalwood—just like the one we had seen before. As an attendant took the scroll and presented it to Queen Suihe, my mouth went dry.

Yet there was still a chance; the messenger did not know us. I forced myself to smile, though I was trembling within. Our only hope lay in a swift exit. “Your Majesty, we thank you again. We will take our leave now.” My voice was low, intended to be overlooked, as my mother and I backed away from the throne.

Queen Suihe nodded, her gaze fixed on the scroll, her attention already shifting to matters of greater importance.

As we turned from the throne, Prince Yanxi engaged the queen in polite conversation. I thanked him silently for the distraction, for delaying the inevitable moment when she read the missive from the Celestial Kingdom. I did not know what was written within, though my instincts prickled in warning. We strode briskly past the rows of courtiers, toward the entrance, as I suppressed the urge to run.

“Halt!” Queen Suihe’s voice rang out, sharp with command.

The guards before us crossed their spears at once, blocking our way. The pit of my stomach folded inward as I swung to the queen.

Bright-red splotches mottled her skin. “To have my kindness repaid with dishonesty is a grave disappointment,” she seethed, crumpling the unraveled scroll in her hands. “Word has been sent across the realm that you and your mother are traitors to the Celestial Kingdom, fugitives from justice. Any who harbor you are threatened with stern reprisal. Do you know all I have done to keep us safe? Only to have it all threatened by a pack of liars who sheltered here under false pretenses.”

Prince Yanming pulled free of his brother’s grasp. “Xingyin is not a liar! The Celestial Emperor is a—”