Huogwai's terror gripped her soul. Knelt in the heavenly halls amidst the tinkling bells and unfiltered sunlight, she kept her head down, eyes downcast. She didn't need to look at the bristling black eyebrows or the crackling black beard trailing down to his knees to know Daidi, the father of heaven, was furious. If not for her affinity of flames, the heat radiating from his throne of heaven might have incinerated her on the spot.

"The world we are duty-bound to protect, the humans who I moulded from clay by my very own hands — you have the audacity to claim them as your own?" His mouth didn't move, but his voice reverberated within Huogwai's skull. She curled further into a ball in hopes to placate his wrath. "And you dare to take the form of the ones you have devoured?"

Huogwai kept her forehead pressed to her hands on the ground, the human form's long red hair flowing all around her like her bouts of flames. She didn't dare to speak, less she incensed Daidi more and he tore her to shreds. Deep within her abdomen, the screams of the souls she'd eaten continued, but as their voices weakened, the powers within her grew.

"You assume this submissive stance now, Huogwai, but your brothers and sisters have spoken of your actions. You are dissatisfied with the rule of the gods. Yet you continue to thrive on humans' offerings as you devour their own. I cannot tolerate this in the heavens any longer."

Huogwai sat up for the first time, her arms trembling, eyes flicking up to the stormy face of Daidi for the first time. Those endless black pits of eyes bore into her soul as if reading every thought she ever had.

"Please," she whispered. "I am your creation. You cannot cast me out."

"Can I not?" Although the words came in a whisper, the torrential roar shook her to the core. "Were you not also a god, Huogwai, the price for your actions would have cost your soul centuries in the eighteenth level of hell, but that would not give you redemption. No, you will live out your days in the human realm amongst those you so despise. When you have redeemed yourself, you may return."

"Daidi, please."

His bottomless black eyes were the last things she saw before darkness swallowed her whole.

****

Lian's eyes fluttered open, sleep lingering on the lids. Blood red silk curtains hung from the four top corners of her bed, through which sunlight filtered, staining her world pink. The quilt was soft beneath her back. The familiar faint scent of lavender mixed with incense hovered in the air.

A dream. It was all a dream. The last of the roar of Daidi, father of heaven, echoed in her mind. She brushed the soft silk curtains aside, running her fingers along their delicate embroidered patterns. Sunlight shone through her windows, made of rice-coloured paper stretching between the wooden panes. She swung her legs out of bed, bare feet landing on wooden floorboards. Pale legs peeping through the wraps of her nightdress bore superficial scratches up all over. Long, tangled black hair tumbled down her back. It should have been silky and tidy had her maids brushed it before bed; long hair was the symbol of royalty, after all. Short hair was sported only by the poorest of common folk. Lian wondered which maid was meant to service her last night who had been so careless.

Then she remembered where she was last night. The memories came flooding back: the little hut in the middle of the woods, far from the bustling royal city, the old healer who harvested sacrifices under the guise of healing folk, the deadly price in return for a miracle healing.

And the all-seeing green eyes and black-scaled form of Huogwai, the spurned fire god, cast from the heavens for devouring mankind. Lian had seen her and felt her fury before her world went dark.

"Ziwa!" she yelled. She would probably be reprimanded for such un-princess-like behaviour. Her maid hurried in, the wooden blocks that made up the soles of her silk shoes clip-clopping like a horse's hooves. She dipped a knee and slid the wooden door shut behind her.

"Princess," she murmured. The headdress she wore, black, with a neat arrangement of cherry blossoms in the centre to signify her service, always sat impeccably above her sleek black hair swept into a bun. With her porcelain features and quiet demeanour, Ziwa carried herself more like a princess than Lian ever did. A light flush of pink on her cheeks was all that showed her relief at seeing Lian awake.

"What... what happened last night?" Lian's limbs tingled all over. Her mouth was dry. Hearing her hoarse voice, Ziwa hurried to pass her a cup of hot tea.

"Quite a lot, princess," she murmured. Lian swallowed and handed back the cup. Ziwa helped her out of her nightdress and into soft undergarments and under-trousers before slipping onto her bony shoulders a silk, pastel pink cheongsam. Ziwa's deft fingers flew over the buttons on the inside of the long-sleeved garment, which was decorated with swirls and embroideries of flowers and lay over the skirt, flowing loosely down to Lian's feet until only her toes peeped out. Ziwa then worked her way through the tangles in Lian's hair, humming a tune to herself to fill the silence, punctuated by the chirping of birds outside.

"How did I get back?"

"Emiru. He came through the inner city gates — well after the second gong of the night! — and said you were in trouble. The entire inner city woke up! And the king sent out enough guards to cover the entire royal city. They found you in the woods, alone and covered in scratches. You wouldn't wake up. The physician has been in twice overnight to see to you and he said it was just exhaustion. The girls would be so glad to hear you are awake."

Lian knew it wasn't just exhaustion. Huogwai had something to do with it, as punishment for Lian's interference. She needed to speak to Emiru, to know she wasn't alone in seeing the fire god's presence last night. She winced as Ziwa worked through the tangles, finally taming her hair into a top bun, and went to fetch the matching headdress, which had silvery swirls around a large cherry blossom flower set in the centre and a silvery tassel dangling on one side.

"Where's Emiru now?"

It was a while before Ziwa spoke. "In the dungeons."

Lian's heart skipped a beat. Ziwa finished the last of the makeup, a flourish of light rouge on Lian's cheeks. She crouched down to tie Lian's silk shoes.

"What?"

"He wanted to lead the guards to you, but his Highness ordered for him to be placed under chains and locked him in the dungeons. I haven't seen him since, but the hearsay isn't good."

"What are the other maids saying?"

Ziwa straightened up, eyes darting to the side and hands clutching the front of her silk cheongsam, which was a shade of light green like the sprouts of spring.

"I don't dare say, princess."

"Tell me. That's an order, Ziwa."

"They are saying he... he attempted to compromise your purity, princess."

Lian blinked. "What?"

Ziwa merely kept her head bowed over Lian's shoes. If she hadn't known Ziwa had such a serious, honest personality, Lian would have expected a prank.

"That's ridiculous! I snuck out by myself. I wanted to—" She stopped herself. It would cause an uproar if word got out a worshipper of Huogwai hid within the outer royal city, never mind masqueraded as a healer and exchanged services for souls. Ziwa being so honest would never be able to keep the secret for her. "Emiru had nothing to do with it," she said with finality.

Ziwa inclined her head with respect. "Unfortunately, he and his family are awaiting execution even so. The king was convinced your name and body have been tarnished."

"I will speak to my parents." Lian stood up, shaking her head, careful not to displace the headdress Ziwa had so painstakingly fastened to her hair. "Emiru had done nothing wrong. Arrange a carriage. We leave for the royal mansion at once."

"Princess..."

"What is it, Ziwa?" Lian hadn't even thought about how she would broach the subject of the disciple of Huogwai masquerading as a healer. Did her parents know? Were they also tricked into giving up a soul for Maya's wellbeing? And whose?

"His Highness is most angry with your indiscretion also. He said he didn't want to see you until summoned, and he needed to deal with the Emiru issue first."

"Emiru isn't an 'issue'," Lian snapped. Ziwa fell silent, bowing her head. For a moment, Lian wanted to strike her demure maid before catching herself. "Sorry, Ziwa. It's not your fault. My father is being unreasonable. Send for my carriage. I'm going before he kills Emiru."

Ziwa bent a knee again and left. Lian spun on the spot, shaking her head. The tassel of her headdress shook with the motion. Emiru must have gone for help after Lian saw the fake healer, after Huogwai materialised. She had no recollection of what happened after seeing Huogwai's green eyes in the black smoke. Emiru had saved her life and her father wanted to falsely accuse him of compromising her purity and execute him.

Lian's hands curled into fists. More royalty abusing their power for the sake of saving face. She hated it. She hated it all. In fact, it would be better if they all went up in flames and the common folk wouldn't have to bend to their wills. She blinked. It was unlike her to have violent thoughts. She often was reprimanded for being raucous and having unladylike postures, but never had she thought of striking servants or wishing destruction upon anyone. She'd had a peculiar day; perhaps it was due to that and the exhaustion.

Several minutes later, Ziwa came to fetch her. Lian leapt up, wobbling a little on the clunky wooden blocks for soles. How she hated the uncomfortable, formal attire. The manservants stood outside in their dark blue changshan and black hats sitting neatly upon their heads, worn in a queue: half-shaven, each with a long black plait trailing down their back.

"Princess," they murmured. Lian hopped onto the wooden carriage; Ziwa followed suit. Light pink curtains were drawn across the windows — not that anyone would fail to recognise the Mansion of the Cherry Blossoms carriage. Lian's mind went over the events of the previous day, weighing her arguments, and praying she wouldn't lose her temper with her father, whose personality she inherited: stubborn, concrete, and easily-angered, or with her mother, who always seemed to know what to say to frustrate her. Ziwa had said she was already in trouble with the king. What with the feast celebrating Lian's name day coming tonight, stepping further out of line would truly make the next few days unpleasant.

Echoed shouts of 'Princess Lian is arriving!' followed her carriage up the sprawling paved road to the royal mansion. When the carriage stopped, the door opened and Lian allowed herself to be helped out as princess would. Accompanied by Ziwa, she made her way up the stone steps. Guards in their yellow changshan and black hats, holding spears, stood at alert, face impassive. The gilded wooden doors lay half open.

Ziwa disappeared from her side and stood with the servants behind the armed guards lining the path to the king, leaving Lian alone. Handkerchief in right hand, she met the eyes of her father and mother, the king and queen of Chiang, and swung her wrist in a backward motion per custom.

"Lian to see His Royal Highness, blessed be," she murmured, dropping her wrist to throw her skirt forward so she could kneel on the ground. She touched her forehead to the deep red carpet. "Lian to see Her Royal Highness, blessed be."

"Raise your head."

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness." Lian sat back up, eyes flicking up at her father. He sat on the gilded throne, clad in gold and legs spread before him, beside her mother, who wore an elaborate black and gold cheongsam with beads of pearls crossing her chest. A lavender orchid sat in the centre of her headdress. Her two servants knelt by her side.

Two of her father's favourite concubines stood beside him, eyes downcast.

"You realise you have interrupted royal duties by demanding an audience at such short notice, Princess Lian?" said her father in a quiet voice. Lian hadn't spoken to him in weeks, but even compared with two days ago, he had aged. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and his mouth, beneath a black moustache, deepened. Black eyes gazed with usual disapproval down at her. "I hope you have a justification for this."

"Return to His Royal Highness: I'm here because of my servant, Emiru. I believe you have him in the dungeons."

"That's correct. That man has compromised your purity and therefore the name of the royal family, and me. Such act warrants execution."

"But Father!" Lian burst out, then bit her lips when his face darkened. "Return to His Royal Highness... Emiru merely escorted me when I went for a walk last night. He has abided by the royal code. He is innocent."

"You went for a walk in the middle of the night?" her mother repeated, holding a handkerchief to her mouth to emphasise her shock. "A royal princess goes cavorting in the darkness with a manservant and you wish to convince us he is innocent?"

"Emiru only followed me because he had concerns about my safety."

"Or was he taking advantage because of the lack of safety?" her mother said, raising an eyebrow. Lian scowled.

"Nothing like that at all!" Lian stopped and dropped her voice when her parents frowned collectively.

"Then where did you go?"

Lian hesitated, but she knew if she didn't confess, Emiru and his family were as good as dead.

"Return to His Royal Highness: I went to see the healer in the woods."

Their faces paled. Lian knew, then, they had something to hide.