“We will leave right after Ping’er’s funeral,” I told him. “Have you heard any news of Liwei?”

A line creased Wenzhi’s brow. “His Highness has been moved from his courtyard and is being held under guard.”

The fear caged within me broke free, images flashing through my mind of Liwei locked in a windowless cell, tormented into some baseless confession. “Why would they do this?”

“His Highness has recently acquired a startling number of enemies. His position has never been so vulnerable, and many see a rare opportunity in the tussle for power.”

My insides twisted, imagining assassins dispatched to murder Liwei, poison in his cup, carefully orchestrated “accidents.”

Sensing my distress, Shuxiao wrapped an arm across my shoulders, hugging me to her. “No one will dare to harm him.”

“Because of his position?” My tone was hopeful yet dulled.

“Because of his mother,” she said wryly.

I found no levity in this wretched situation, that the Celestial Empress was now my best hope to keep Liwei safe. For once, I was glad for her devious cunning and ruthless spite. Few in the Jade Palace would dare cross her.

“Can she protect him?” I asked Wenzhi.

“The empress is trying but her hands are tied. The true power lies with His Celestial Majesty and she cannot be seen to defy him, for it would endanger her own position and safety.”

“Where is Liwei confined?”

Wenzhi’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t get into the Jade Palace. Not even with my aid.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“After the Imperial Treasury was breached, new wards have been woven around the palace, barring entry to all outsiders except those allowed by General Wu.” Wenzhi threw a cautious glance my way. “More guards have been stationed around the walls. They will not be easily led astray, when the threat of whipping or worse hangs over them.”

“I must rescue Liwei,” I said flatly.

“How, if the palace is so tightly guarded? If you are captured, they will never let you out again, and you will make things worse for His Highness,” Shuxiao warned.

“I need someone inside the Jade Palace to help,” I said slowly. “The wards cannot be broken from outside.”

“Can your informants aid us?” Shuxiao asked Wenzhi.

“Not for so dangerous a venture; they will not risk their position. I am privy to their briefings, but they answer to my father alone. He will not lift a finger to aid the Celestial Crown Prince.” He added contemplatively, “It would not help anyway. You need someone of sufficiently high rank to breach those wards.”

General Jianyun might help us, but his own position was precarious. Unease crawled over my skin as just one other idea surfaced—repellent, yet it offered the best chance of success.

“I need your help to get a message to someone in the Celestial Kingdom,” I told Wenzhi.

“Who would that be?” he asked carefully.