Some people were laughing in low voices, others were whispering to each other, and they were all watching the fun. "Everyone said that the deposed queen was crazy." Yuan Jing stood up, her skirt trailing across the ground, embroidered with large peonies, each one as red as blood. "Looking at me, I'm not crazy at all."
She picked up the glass of wine and walked slowly to Fan Li. "Your Majesty rewards you."
Yuan Jing smiled gently, but her eyes were as cold as well water in the twelfth lunar month, "Drink it and you will be relieved."
Fan Li looked up at her.
Yuan Jing applied ambergris, and there was a faint scent between her fingers.
But underneath that scent, there was something lighter—like the astringency left after dried grass leaves were crushed.
Fan Li recognized this smell.
Broken gut grass.
When her father's house was ransacked, this was what was found in his house. "Why don't you drink?"
Yuan Jing bent down and came closer to her, "Do you think I didn't feed you personally?"
She nodded to the palace maid behind her.
The palace maid named Caiyue came up and grabbed Fan Li's chin.
Her nails dug into her flesh, causing Fan Li's whole face to tingle in pain. "Open your mouth."
Caiyue's voice was cold.
Fan Li gritted her teeth.
Caiyue couldn't open her mouth, so she raised her hand and slapped her.
With a snap, half of Fan Li's face swelled up, and blood oozed from the corners of her mouth.
The blood dripped on the ground, mixed with the rainwater that had not dried on the ground, and slowly swam into a small patch of light red. "If you don't eat the toast, you will be punished with a drink."
Caiyue slapped her again, this time harder. Fan Li's head tilted to one side and her ears buzzed.
Yuan Jing stood aside and watched, neither urging nor stopping.
