Cold Sands

II Deadlock

The young man standing in front of me has a quiet composure with deep contours, strong slanted brows and burning eyes under them. His lips form a hard line as if he’s contemplating but his eyes are piercing like blades. Even a quiet composure cannot hide the fierce aura from those eyes. A heavy set of shiny silver armour rests on his shoulders. A majestic hawk soars within the golden carvings on his breast plate.

I admit I probably look like shit now: messy hair, shredded clothes, dirt-plastered face. And there he is, nicely dressed with a commanding air about him. He automatically has the upper hand. I push myself up ignoring the pain threatening to tear away the flesh from my bones and brush some of the dirt off of myself. Then I look up without a fear of his aura.

His eyes narrow and an unsympathetic grin creeps onto his face.

“Han Xin?” he asks, raising his brows.

Ah, just what you’d expect from the royal family. Even two simple words coming from his mouth come with the overwhelming sense of power that is unique to those of royal lineage; strong but not aggressive, gentle but not weak. He’s just like that Emperor cousin of mine－who is technically my cousin once-removed and only two years my elder. It’s as if they were made from the same mold. The elegant and graceful composure of royalty that is cut, carved, sanded and refined into you from the day you’re born into the palace. They’ve got it down to a fine art…

Snapping out of my daydreaming, I notice His Highness the crown prince has actually been waiting for my reply very patiently and politely, so much that I’m starting to think it wasn’t he who made an order to douse me with freezing water.

“May I take that as an affirmative?”

His gaze is almost sharp enough to go right through me. Then he leans over slightly and asks, “How are you holding up? This sandstorm is not for the lighthearted.”

I lean on the pole behind me and squint, too lazy to pretend as though I’m a selfless altruistic hero. 

“You’d need to experience it first-hand before you get to judge it, your highness. Care to join?”

I probably have a really smartass expression because I see some blood vessels pop up near his temples.

But he obviously has a very good bring-up and doesn’t lose his temper that easily. Instead he scoffs, “This is what has become of the grand nephew of Empress Dowager Han of Great Rui. Just look at you.”

I shiver from his cold tone but casually push hair out of my face and blink several times. “War’s war. It makes no difference whether or not I’m the grand nephew of Empress Dowager Han or you’re the Crown Prince of Great Yan, in the end the Valkyries will take us all. ‘Miright, your highness?”

His eyes flash with what might be anger. “You have a lot of nerve, Han Xin.”

“Thank you,” I reply politely with a smile.

I wonder if I look sincere enough. Just so you know, being careful with your words is hard work.

He straightens up, still smiling, but his face turning gloomier by the second. “Realise who has the say here. Even if you make these smart remarks now, can you really give up your chance at life?”

My heart sinks. 

I’m not a saint and definitely cannot abandon my life. But even if I don’t really like being a soldier, I’m representing my country right now.

I tilt my head up and watch him with a smirk. “Of course I fear death but I also know you won’t let me die before you get information on Great Rui’s defenses.”

His hand twitches once before closing into a fist; his smile becomes rigid.

“Since the war began,” I continue, “the Yan army has been shredding through our defenses. But now you’ve got no such luck at Rope Hill Creek, which means you still need me, right?”

His eyes narrow like arrows, like a wolf locking onto its prey.

The people of Yan have always been fierce; the rich and the poor alike enjoy hunting on horseback. The territories of Great Rui span hundreds of thousands of acres of fertile land; the Rui court governs millions of citizens and boasts an army with several hundred thousand soldiers. Yan’s power must not be underestimated for pushing such a large country to the brink of surrendering its capital city.

♚♔

As night falls, water turns to ice and the freezing air tries to dig into my body. They put me through various kinds of torture and then when the sun disappeared, Murong Yu gave orders to toss me outside to endure the bone-stinging wind. 

♚♔

After who knows how long, I’m wide awake squinting at the bright light in my eyes. Just as I try to sit up, a splitting pain shoots through my bones.

The sun hovers steadily in the sky and bakes the land with its heat. Soon after water vapour rises from the earth and burns my lungs with every breath. I can almost feel my scabs cracking along with the cracking earth and hear the drops of blood slowly sliding down. Maybe I’m almost dead; my mind’s a blank. Right then a gust of wind sweeps burning rocks and sand right in my face as if trying to skin me alive.

Murong Yu, you fucking ass! I’d rather you aim that sword of yours at my neck; the scar will only be about the size of a plate. I fucking hate this slowly-torture-to-death bullshit! Murong Yu, I didn’t know you had this sort of fetish－but then again they say people who enjoy torturing others are most likely messed up in the head. I guess this seemingly prestigious prince has actually been scarred pretty badly.

“Wa…ter.”

I can’t help but moan. My body feels as if it’s been on fire.

“Oh, so loyal subjects need water, too?” he teases, showing up out from nowhere.

So, the royal family is also good at being sarcastic. I roll my eyes at him, pissed. 

I thought all humans needed water to live. How does he not know that? Ha, perhaps his emotional trauma proves too severe to retain common knowledge-

“You fancy a drink?”

In front of me is a bowl half full of clear liquid. He holds it as sunlight dances off of the rippling surface.