The Tyrant's Sickly Consort Refuses to Die novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: The Eleven Names

"I cannot say which," Su Ming had answered. "All of them. Some of them."

"The poison does not choose, Your Majesty. It only takes away the thing that stops you."

Xiao Jue sat now in the dark of the inner room, with a cold cup in his hand, and counted.

He did not need a list.

He knew them by heart.

The first was a Censor, in the third year, who had written a memorial saying the young Emperor's temper made him unfit to rule.

Xiao Jue had read it aloud in court, and then had the man beaten to death on the steps.

The second and third were a brother and a cousin of the Prime Minister's rivals, hanged for a rumor.

The fourth was a cook, because a dish had come to the table cold.

The fifth was a general's son, who had laughed.

He went on.

He had never forgotten a single one, and he had told himself for nine years that it was because they had been traitors.

Now he saw their faces one at a time, and not one of them looked like a traitor.

They looked like men who had been standing in the wrong room at the wrong hour.

"Majesty," said Gao Shun softly from the doorway. "You have not moved for an hour."

"I have counted eleven."

"The eleven did not die of the tonic alone."

"No," said Xiao Jue. "They died of my hand."

He set down the cup.

"But I would not have lifted it. Not like that. Not for a laugh, or a cold dish." His voice cracked.

"I thought I was a monster, Gao Shun. For nine years I believed I was one."

"Majesty," said Gao Shun.

"Leave us."

The old man bowed and went.

Xiao Jue put his face in his hands.

He had not wept since he was nine years old, standing at the foot of his mother's bed, and he had forgotten how.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder.

He did not need to look.

"I have stopped the tonic," he said into his palms.

"Gao Shun will bring honey water at dusk, so the Imperial Physician thinks I am still drinking it."

"It will be bad," said Su Ming. "The body does not like to be given back what was taken. It starts within hours."

"You will shake, and you will sweat, and the old whispers will come. You may think I am someone else."

"I will know you," said Xiao Jue.

"Will you?" said Su Ming.

"You are the only one I have known since the first night," said Xiao Jue, and lifted his head.

Su Ming sat beside him on the edge of the couch in his grey sleeping robe.

He had taken the pins out of his hair, and it fell to his shoulders, black and straight.

The lamp made the sharp line of his cheekbone gold.

There was a small frown between his eyes that Xiao Jue had learned to read as concern.

"How many hours?" said Xiao Jue.

"Three, perhaps four. Drink the tea. It will blunt the worst of it."

"Before I drink it," said Xiao Jue.

He heard how rough his voice had become.

"For nine years I have not known what I am without it," he said. "In four hours I will not know again."

"I would like to be myself for the hours I have. I would like to spend them on you."

Su Ming went very still.

"That is a poor reason to choose a night."

"It is the only honest one," said Xiao Jue. "I do not want it because I am afraid. I wanted it the day you stood at my left."

He turned on the couch and took both of Su Ming's hands.

"I will stop if you tell me to."

"You will not have to." Su Ming's voice was low. "Neither of us has done this, Xiao Jue."

"No," said Xiao Jue.

"Then I would like you to say it is our own night. Not the poison's, and not the throne's."

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