Empire’s Curse (DRAKKON #1) by Maham Fatemi EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Maham Fatemi
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.6 MB
- Price: Free
Daiyu was in love with a dead man.
At least that’s what she told herself as she collected wild jasmine and
bright orchids from the colorful field before her. She placed the flowers in
her overfilled, handwoven basket and continued through the thicket of
bright blues and fuchsias. The early morning breeze sent a ripple across the
bowing florae, carrying a sweet scent in its wake.
Lanfen, Daiyu’s younger sister, smoothed down her worn, pale-yellow
skirt with one hand and plucked an orange orchid with the other. “Don’t you
think that’s enough?” she asked as she slipped the flower in Daiyu’s basket.
“I’m not sure if Heng will appreciate all these flowers.”
Daiyu frowned at her brimming basket. “Heng loved flowers.”
“No, he loved going here with you, not to see the flowers. He couldn’t
have cared less about”—Lanfen motioned toward the surrounding field
—“all of this.”
“Heng loved coming here with me, but he also loved the flowers.”
“He’s already …” Her younger sister shrugged, letting the words hang.
“I don’t know. I don’t think it matters too much.”
“It matters.” Daiyu tightened her hold on the bamboo basket. It mattered
to her, at least.
“It’s been four years already.”
“I know.” She had heard this a million times already, from Lanfen, her
parents, and even her brothers. Everyone wanted her to move on, but how
could she do that when Heng had been such a big part of her life for years?
“You didn’t have to come here.”
Lanfen touched one of the long clusters of wild grass brushing her hips.
“Do you really think he cares about any of this? I truly don’t. But if it
makes you feel better, all the more reason to do it.”
Daiyu turned away from her, suddenly tired. Her younger sister had
only been eleven when the war had ended and Heng never returned, so she
probably didn’t remember—or care—for him like Daiyu had.
They made their way to a familiar plum blossom tree with Heng’s name
etched into the ancient bark. Daiyu traced the inscription with the pads of
her fingers, her chest growing heavy. Below his name, she could barely
make out the characters of her own name.
Neither of them knew how to
read or write, but when a traveling merchant had passed through their
village, Heng had begged him to teach him how to write his name and
Daiyu’s. He had then taught Daiyu her name. The memory tightened
something in her chest as she ran her fingers over the rough bark.
When Heng had gone missing during the war, she had come here and
torn off the bark until her fingers had bled. Because the promise on the tree
—that they would be together forever—was a lie.
Swallowing down the thickness in her throat, Daiyu placed the flowers
they had collected at the base of the tree. She closed her eyes and sent a
silent prayer. That Heng was finally at peace, even as his body was likely
buried beside hundreds of other unnamed soldiers. Even as he and his
fellow brothers-in-arms had ultimately lost the war.
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