by CK Dawn
Those eyes. Pale blue like the moon Guanyin’s Eye itself, unique in a Cathayi woman. Their depth and serenity evoked a soothing calm rivaling Sun-Moon Lake on the clearest of days. I loved those eyes as I adored the Daoist master to whom they belonged.
Struggling to sit up, I coughed a few times before finding words. “Doctor Wu. What are you doing here?”
“An awe-inspiring song pulsated through the city, coming from the Temple of Heaven,” said the ancient woman—nobody knew her actual age, though some speculated her longevity rivaled that of a dwarf or even an elf. As a master of an art that sought the secret to immortality, she didn’t look particularly old. That, despite the fact she eschewed the pearl creams and other make-up that most Cathayi women used as the passing years magnified the effect of gravity. “The question is what are you doing here?”
What was I doing here? Playing enchanted musical instruments in the middle of a forbidden area, with a foreign prince.
Foreign prince!
Hardeep must’ve been nearby. I scanned the surroundings. We were outside the gates of the temple compound. There was no sign of him or the Dragon Scale Lute, only a man whose blue-and-gold robes marked him as the Jianguo Shrine’s high priest. He craned over me while several other priests huddled beyond, whispering among themselves as their judgmental stares fell on me. How mortifying.
One of the priests ran past, probably headed for the palace to report to Father. Once he learned about my sneaking out and entering the Temple of Heaven, on top of disobeying his initial order to send Prince Hardeep away…
I looked around again. “Where is Prince Hardeep?”
“Who?” Doctor Wu raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. She turned to the growing crowd of murmuring men. “Who is Prince Hardeep?”
The most charming and handsome man I’d ever seen. The only one who ever truly knew me. “A foreign supplicant to the Emperor.”
“Where is he now?” General Zheng, Commander of the Imperial Guard, shouldered his way to the front, several imperial guards in tow. The other men bowed and made way. He beckoned the hall steward and my guards. “Was he alone with the princess? Here?”
My stomach churned. When the truth came out, Prince Hardeep would lose his head, foreign dignitary or not.
The priests all exchanged glances. Apparently, Hardeep had escaped without anyone seeing him. Which meant I’d fainted, and he had just left me there.
To get help. He must have risked his life to get help. And he was safe.
General Zheng turned back to the priests. “Where is Prince Hardeep now?”
The men all looked among themselves, shrugging.
“I…I am not sure.” The high priest squinted and blinked like a child testing new spectacles.
The general pointed to three imperial guards. “Go find the foreigner.”
I twirled a loose lock of my hair. Maybe Prince Hardeep had just abandoned me to save his own skin. And like some silly daydream, I’d believed music made me beautiful in his eyes. How gullible I’d been. Breaking rules, acting like a love-struck fool. And now, possibly getting servants and Cousin Kai-Long executed. Myself, too. Cold seeped into my hands, and my vision faded at the edges.
“Steady, Your Highness.” Doctor Wu placed one hand on my back, the other on my wrist, feeling my pulse. Her eyebrows clashed together like charging goats. “Show me your tongue.”
I glanced up at a different kind of audience than I was accustomed to. How embarrassing. Heat flared in my cheeks.
Doctor Wu swept an imperious gaze over the assembled men. “Turn around.”
Like a temple’s revolving storm door shutters, the men spun and snapped into place. Jaw tight, General Zheng nodded and turned around as well.
Thank the Heavens. I nodded to the doctor in thanks and stuck out my tongue.
“I see.” Doctor Wu’s lips pursed. She spent the next several minutes poking and prodding at me, while soldiers jogged around the temple walls and nervous priests shuffled at a respectful distance. How mortifying, to have so much attention for all the wrong reasons.
Just when my heart was about to stop, a middle-aged man slunk through the wall of imperial guards. The white-and-red symbols stitched into his blue robes marked him as a member of the Ministry of Household Affairs. “Your Highness, the Emperor commands you to present yourself before him.”
Heavens, no. I resigned to humiliating myself in front of all the hereditary lords. The Emperor—Father—had no choice but to pass harsh judgment.
Doctor Wu’s hand squeezed mine, sending a reassuring warmth coursing through my body. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I will accompany you.”
For whatever good that would do. No matter Father’s respect for the doctor, he couldn’t afford to appear weak and overlook a capital offense. Not when the North was unsettled. Not when I couldn’t prove my budding skill at Dragon Songs. Hopefully, when meting out punishment, he would take into account that I’d never done anything wrong in the past.
Doctor Wu helped me to my shaky feet. The men all bowed. Imperial guards formed up behind me. The Minister of Household Affairs led me from the Temple of Heaven’s front gates to where a palanquin and a several dozen imperial guards awaited.
I peered at the palanquin, all vibrations of power from the lute melting away from my core. I gritted my teeth and ducked into its narrow confines. It rose off the ground and lurched into a steady pace. Outside, the imperial guards marched in tight formation.
How foolish I’d been, believing Prince Hardeep wanted to help me. An accomplished musician himself, he’d probably taken the lute. He might’ve already chartered a ship back to Ankiras, where he would scatter the Maduran armies with the instrument’s fell magic.
Leaving me here, on my way to a possible death sentence. The palanquin walls seemed to close in around me. Memories of being locked in an armoire sent my pulse skittering. I took a deep breath of the hot, stuffy air in hopes it would calm me. I should be grateful for the privacy. Now hidden from prying eyes, salty-hot tears trickled unchecked down my cheeks.
An eternity in the bobbing coffin dragged on until the procession finally ground to a halt. I dried the tears with my sleeve. My eyelids felt heavy and swollen. Herald calls and the swoosh of opening gates indicated our arrival at Sun-Moon Palace.
“Your Highness,” Chen Xin said from outside, reassuring me with a familiar voice. “We have passed the front gates of Sun-Moon Palace. Would you like to alight?”
The guards and servants knew my habits well, predicting I would want to walk the rest of the way to the castle. Not tonight. The iridescent moon neared full, ready to shine light on my shame. My voice caught and I cleared my throat. “Take me to the Jade Gate. Take your time.”
I shuddered, worried my cracking voice had revealed weakness. Nonetheless, the ride from the palace’s main gate to the Imperial Family’s residence would afford me just enough time to regain my composure. If I were to present myself before Father, I would hold my head high when accepting his judgment.
To calm myself, I envisioned my ride as a walk. Past the Hall of Supreme Harmony. To the Dragon Bridge between the palace grounds and the castle. Through the winding alleys of the inner castle compound.
The palanquin came to a gentle stop, and the porters lowered it to the ground. The doors slid open and a hand, smooth as phoenix feathers, took mine to help me out.
My legs quavered. The imperial guards by the gatehouse dropped to one knee, fist to the ground.
Doctor Wu released my hand.
The palace chamberlain shuffled forward and bowed. “Your Highness. The Emperor summons you to his quarters immediately.”
I nodded. I forced myself to achieve a semblance of grace as I crossed the covered stone bridge from the keep to the Imperial Family’s walled-off, hilltop residence. Moonlight sparkled off the gold leaf of the one-story pavilion’s tiled eaves. Surrounded by moats, the building was further protected from magical intrusion by an ancient ward.
My person
al retinue of handmaidens and guards stopped and knelt as I approached the gatehouse connecting the family’s restricted bedrooms to the rest of the residence. There, eight imperial guard sentries stepped aside while the gatekeeper—an old nun from Praise Spring Temple—held up a light bauble lamp to my face.
The woman spoke in the Imperial Family’s secret language, her voice hoarse as she asked one of the hundreds of questions needed to validate my identity. “What land did the Founder and his consort come from?”
“Great Peace Island,” I answered, using the secret language’s name for Jade Island.
“How many patron saints watch over Cathay from Jade Island?”
“Eight,” I said, “though some include The Dwarf as the Ninth.”
“What are their names?”
“The Water Saint, The Metal Saint, The World Saint, The Fire Saint, The Wood Saint, The Earth Saint, The Heavenly King, and The Sea King. The Dwarf is King of the Underworld.”
Without looking back, the gatekeeper rapped a code—changed hourly—on the heavy ironwood doors. They slid open, revealing the shaved pates of nine bowing nuns, armed only with the empty-handed Yongchun fighting style.
The Founder had established these security protocols, after having barely survived his most trusted vassal’s surprise attack, just before he came to post-Hellstorm Cathay. In his time, the nuns had used daggers. Later, his consort taught them her own unarmed combat skills.
I walked to the Emperor’s quarters, surrounded by an escort of nuns and with Doctor Wu one step behind.
My brothers and Xiulan, all kneeling on cushions, turned their heads toward me as I stepped into the bedroom antechamber. From where he sat on a cushioned bloodwood chair, Father fixed me with a severe gaze.
Belly tight, I dropped to my knees and pressed my forehead to the ground.
“Rise,” Father said.
Straightening, I looked up to focus on something else. The ceiling was coffered, with jade insets carved to depict scenes from the Wang Dynasty’s glorious history. Lacquered wooden panels with mother-of-pearl inlay adorned the red walls. Lanterns with bloodwood frames around paper-thin white jade and dangling red silk tassels hung from the ceiling, providing a soft light from the Aksumi baubles.
His dignified tone remained the same as if addressing dinner plans or a devastating flood. “I am told that you left the palace without permission, unprotected, and went to the Temple of Heaven.”
I bowed my head. There was no point in denying what everyone knew. However, beyond that, I had to protect Hardeep, Kai-Long, and all the servants, even if it meant bending the truth. “Yes. Please, I acted on my own accord. I tricked the servants and imperial guards. I was selfish and foolish.”
His eyes narrowed for a split second. “Did you enter the stupa?”
I shook my head.
He let out a long breath, so uncharacteristic of him, and then looked from Eldest Brother to Second Brother. “It seemed everyone in the city was drawn to the unique song emanating from the Temple of Heaven, like moths to a light bauble. With your ear for music and perceptive hearing, you must have gone first. Yes, you are undoubtedly the victim of evil magic. Luckily, you did not enter the grounds.”
I tilted my head a fraction. He was fabricating an excuse to protect me, glossing over the fact that I did enter the compound. But apparently, no one considered that I could have created that music. And as much as I should have told the whole truth, including the attacks on myself and Hardeep, it would risk too many people.
“Doctor,” Father said, “perhaps with your broad understanding of the world, you could tell us what kind of instrument makes that sound?”
“I am not entirely sure.” The doctor shifted on her feet, lips pursed. “Magic and music are Lord Xu’s expertise.”
Father turned back to me. “Now, I have heard some disturbing news about your actions from earlier in the day.”
From earlier in the day? Was the issue with the Temple of Heaven resolved so easily? Something was wrong. “Yes.” I pressed my forehead to the dark wood tiles. “I—”
Doctor Wu held up a silencing hand. “If I may, Your Exaltedness, I have more pressing news. Good news.”
More pressing than me directly disobeying his order and nearly damaging a priceless artifact? More important than the capital offense of breaking into the Temple of Heaven, even if Father glossed over it? I fidgeted on my knees.
Father’s eyes shifted from me to the doctor. “Speak.”
“I have felt the princess’ pulse and examined her tongue. She is about to blossom with Heaven’s Dew. I would guess in a few days, on the new white moon.”
Heat rose to my head as I sucked in a breath. Such a private consideration, at least for most girls, was now dragged out for my brothers to hear. Not that they wouldn’t know soon, anyway. They’d likely been privy to this particular topic of speculation among the servants—and through their loose lips, among the hereditary lords and ministers as well. Curse my good ears for overhearing the furtive whispers.
Xiulan leaned past Eldest Brother Kai-Guo and winked. As usual, Kai-Wu showed little interest in state affairs, which apparently included my soon-to-start monthly rhythms.
At least it was finally coming. Most of the palace girls my age had already taken that step into womanhood. Even my spunky cousin Lin Ziqiu, two years younger, had already started. I dared a quick glance up.
A rare smile flitted across Father’s face before his expressionless demeanor returned. “This is most welcome news. A marriage might help pacify Lord Tong’s rebellion in the North.”
I twirled a lock of hair. Just this morning, the North had been merely unsettled. Now it was a rebellion? And if what Doctor Wu said was true—and she was never wrong in matters of health—I would be eligible to marry in less than a week.
“Yes, this is fortuitous,” Father continued. “Especially with Kai-Wu’s wedding so close. I hope to see grandchildren before I join your mother, and the realm will certainly be reassured by the birth of heirs to the Mandate of Heaven.” He looked to Kai-Guo and Xiulan.
Xiulan averted her gaze while Kai-Guo fidgeted. A year into the marriage and the Crown Princess’ private considerations were under even more public scrutiny than mine. And with their quarters right next door, I knew their lack of success had little to do with a lack of trying.
I bit my bottom lip. I might be jealous of Xiulan’s peerless handwriting, perfect posture, impeccable manners, pearly complexion, doe eyes, and hair where no strand ever fell out of place; but I didn’t envy the pressure to conceive an heir. My own future sons would be far down the line, after my brothers’ sons, after Father’s younger brother and his sons. Poor Xiulan withered under Father’s stare.
Clearing my throat, I pressed my forehead to the floor. “Father, I apologize for the trouble and embarrassment I have caused. I should not have accompanied Prince Hardeep to the Hall of Pure Melody and nearly ruined Yanyan’s pipa.” Or violated the sanctity of the Temple of Heaven, but if he had forgotten about it, there was no need to provide a reminder.
Doctor Wu clucked. Yes, her earlier deflection had gone to waste, but someone had to rescue Xiulan from her awkward position. At least nobody’s monthly cycles were under scrutiny for the moment.
The weight of Father’s stare pressed me into a deeper bow. “Rise,” he said.
I sat up. In the corner of my eye, Xiulan mouthed, Thank you.
The Emperor said, “My daughter, it is good you recognize your mistakes and have made yourself accountable. However, as I rule by the Mandate of Heaven, if I were to show leniency, it would be perceived by the palace staff, officials, and hereditary lords as preferential treatment. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Exaltedness.” I bowed my head.
Jawline set, he nodded. “In four days’ time, the day after Kai-Wu’s wedding, you shall present yourself before me with the hereditary lords in attendance. Until then, you shall be confined to the castle with limited visitation. I am assign
ing Secretary Hong to vet all who call on you.”
Bowing again in acknowledgement, I suppressed a sigh. That list of visitors would certainly not include Prince Hardeep, if he even turned up. He probably wouldn’t, since I was of no use to him anymore.
Kai-Guo said, “Father, perhaps you should assign a Moquan adept to follow Kaiya.”
As if at sixteen years old, I still believed in the boogeymen that stole unruly children from their beds and forced them into a life of thievery. I would’ve rolled my eyes if Father weren’t there to see it.
Father waved off Kai-Guo’s empty threat. A smile formed on his face. “People in and around the Hall of Pure Melody report that your music this morning bordered on the divine.” What would they say about my song in the Temple of Heaven, if they knew?
Doctor Wu snorted. “If I may, Your Exaltedness, she played with forces she did not understand or know how to control. It has thrown her energy out of balance, perhaps beyond the ability of the palace physicians to treat. She is fortunate that I came from Haikou to deliver herbal medicines to your family.”
Father tilted his head a fraction, the appropriate recognition for an emperor to show someone as respected as Doctor Wu. “You shall be her first visitor, then.”
Fourteen
All Paths Lead to Music
Eyes closed, I listened as spring sang its song through bird chirps and the wind rustling in fruit tree buds outside the Chrysanthemum Chamber. One of the many multipurpose rooms in Sun-Moon Castle, it had been appropriated by Doctor Wu for my acupuncture treatment.
I laid absolutely still, for Heavens knew how long. Gold needles protruded from points all over my body, throbbing and buzzing and blossoming as if my body hosted a fireworks display. It might as well have been one, given all the palace physicians who came and went, bobbing their heads at Doctor Wu’s wisdom. At least a dozen hands felt my pulse, and I had to stick my tongue out each time for their examination.