My knees ached from kneeling so long, but I dare not move. Prince Zheng sat on his wheelchair, still staring down at me, not speaking.
"Why are you on your knees?" he asked finally. In his main hall, without anyone else inside, I bowed my head. My veil was still on my face, which was swelling up from the hit I had taken.
"Forgive me," I murmured.
There was another bout of silence. Then he turned away from me and headed to his desk, rummaging in his drawers for something. When he returned, he held a black bottle in his hand. It was tiny in his palm. A lump of fear lodged itself into my throat.
Was that poison? Was he suspicious by how well I had danced the traditional folk dance, despite only being a slave from Yin Shang who served men under a courtesan?
"Come here," he commanded. I obeyed, moving towards him. His hand reached out to grab me, and I flinched. The veil was tugged off my face.
"Bend down," he continued. I blinked and kneeled as he took my jaw in his hand.
