Nanowrimo 2022 - Day 9 Word Count and Best Bit (Patreon)

Today I added 1,726 words to my project, bringing the total word count to 16,229!

“Bring me Prince Wei Xiang,” she ordered, not bothering to look at the aide.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

She did not have to wait long, looking over her shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps to see two soldiers and the aide coming up the hill with Wei Xiang in tow. He looked as miserable as Jin Xia felt, his hair dirty and disheveled and his eyes burdened with heavy shadows beneath them.

"You said you'd come to me," he reminded her, amusingly petulant for a man in his position.

"I changed my mind," Jin Xia said dismissively. "Sit."

He scowled. "I am not your dog to order around."

Jin Xia let a smirk pull at her lips. "No, but you are my prisoner of war. Which makes you lower than my dog. Sit."

He did, but his face made it clear he was greatly displeased. Jin Xia allowed her smirk to fall into her politically polite smile. "Thank you. Now, how's your shoulder?"

Wei Xiang seemed surprised by her question. To be fair, it was likely rather unusual for a prisoner of war to be asked about their injuries. Still, Jin Xia liked to think she was better than most.

"It's fine," he said eventually. "Sore, but not as bad as it was when I still had the arrow in it. I suppose I should thank you for making them treat me."

"There's no need for that," Jin Xia dismissed. "You'd simply lose all value to me if you died. If you were dead, your father would simply have more reason to fight me, rather than negotiate with me. I told you before, I do not want to fight you if I can help it. That's my father's desire."

Wei Xiang watched her, gaging the sincerity of her words. She highly doubted there was anything she could say that would convince him to believe her, at least not fully. But still she had to try. She needed allies, more than her demure mask could win her within the palace walls. She needed not to conquer the four nations like her father wanted but convince them of her good intentions -- or at least as good as intentions got when it came to politics -- and side with her against her father and half-brother.

"What do you want?" he asked her. "And what will you give my father in exchange?"

She turned to him, gold catching garnet as their eyes met. "I want your nation. I want its nobles and its armies. I want its trade routes and resources. I want its people and their adoration. In exchange, you will no longer be my prisoner of war and the violence ends before it has even truly begun. Your king will not have to face my army, nor my brother's or my father's."

She leaned back, plucking an uneaten rice cake off her plate with her fingers and offering it to Wei Xiang. His face flushed red like his hair, pulling a sultry smile from her. "Is your life not worth more than his pride? Is peace for his people not worth more than his crown?"

Wei Xiang said nothing. Instead, he leaned forward, eyes never falling from where they met Jin Xia's, and took the rice cake into his mouth.

Jin Xia smiled. "Good boy."