How dare he malign my mother who had treated him so graciously? I swallowed a furious retort, casting my eyes down in a guise of humility—though inside, I burned. It was safer if Their Celestial Majesties thought us meek and afraid, rather than vengeful and proud.

“My mother bears Your Celestial Majesties no ill will,” I protested.

“What of you?” General Wu interjected.

“I … I do not wish Your Celestial Majesties ill.” The barest crack in my tone, yet all in this discerning court heard what remained unspoken: that I did not wish Their Celestial Majesties well either.

Liwei clasped his hands together and bowed. “Honorable Father, Mother. Xingyin and her mother are no threat to you. Allow us to find the Moon Goddess, to ensure her safety and request an explanation.”

The emperor’s expression hardened, his knuckles white over the carnelian armrest. “Liwei, do you not care for your own family and the insult paid to us today?”

That tone, curling with menace, was the one that echoed in my worst nightmares, the moment before he had struck me down.

“Honorable Father, they mean you no harm. Those of the moon only wish to protect their home.” Liwei spoke calmly, and I was glad for his steadiness in times as these, when my emotions crested and broke.

“Enough, Liwei,” the empress said sternly, despite her pallor. As she threw her hand out, the air between us gleamed with magic, the enchantment on my feet loosening. “She can go. You must stay for your father’s celebration.”

“You say they mean no harm, Your Highness,” General Wu said silkily to Liwei. “How do you know what thoughts lurk in their minds? Or perhaps you do not care, your loyalties clouded by your feelings—”

“Remember your place, General,” the empress snarled. “Do not reach above yourself. My son is not to blame.”

“Of course.” He bowed, even as an insidious smile stretched over his lips. “His Highness must have been deceived.”

How strange to see them at odds when they had united against me in such accord before. Yet the empress was vigilant against those who threatened her son, even past allies. My throat closed tight at the skillful picture General Wu was painting: my mother and I, treacherous and false, while Liwei was a fool whose opinion was to be disregarded.

I raised my voice to be heard. “This is an innocent mistake, Your Celestial Majesty—”

The emperor’s hand shot up, silencing me. His lips were ringed with white, his eyes bulging. “Liwei, where do your loyalties lie? With your family and kingdom, or this deceitful girl? I warned her once, there would be no mercy if Chang’e, or she, ever shirked their duties.”

“Imperial Husband, Liwei does not mean that,” the empress began, but when the emperor swung to her, she shrank back against her throne.