by Natasha Ngan
I recall General Yu’s threat. Maybe it wasn’t just me that received one. Maybe the coins and riches showered on Paper Girls’ families are less a reward and more a reminder that the King has bought their daughters’ obedience. And if they break it…
“All right,” I sigh, picking up the fan. “Let’s try again.”
Half an hour—and many dropped fan incidents—later, Wren and I head back to Paper House. From outside Mistress Eira’s suite comes the chatter of the girls, the muffled footsteps of maids. Delicious food smells waft out, making my stomach growl. But when Wren moves to head straight in, I hold out a hand to stop her.
“Thank you,” I say. “For helping me. You were right. I haven’t really been trying.” I puff out air, rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess it felt like I’d be letting my family down or something. Like I was happy to be here.”
Her eyes move away. “I don’t think any of us are truly happy to be here.”
“Excuse me? Have you met Blue?”
“Right,” she replies with a lift of her brows. “Because she’s so happy all the time.”
I blink, and Wren opens the door, something closing back over her expression. Following her inside, I send a quick bow in Mistress Eira’s direction before kneeling down beside Aoki. “Thank the gods there’s food left,” I murmur, picking up my chopsticks. “I’m starving.”
She doesn’t look up. Her face is frozen, eyes locked on something small in her hands, and when I peer round to see what it is, my own expression freezes.
Red calligraphy; a scarlet summons.
Aoki-zhi
Slowly, I set my chopsticks down. “Are you all right?” I ask in a whisper.
She gives a jerk of her head that I take to be a nod.
Zhin’s voice pipes up from across the table. “You must be excited, Aoki!” A sincere smile lifts her cheeks.
Still staring down at her hands, Aoki gives another stiff nod. I notice that her fingers are trembling. Underneath the table I press my thigh to hers.
There’s a harsh laugh. “Looks like our little Aoki is finally about to become a woman,” Blue purrs. “And at only sixteen.” She looks round the table, purposefully avoiding my eyes. “That’s all of us now, isn’t it?”
“You’re forgetting Lei,” Mariko sniggers.
Blue’s dark irises flick my way. “Oh, yes. I forgot all about her.”
My fingers knot, but before I can say anything, Mistress Eira stands up. “I wasn’t called by the King for two whole months after our ceremony,” she announces smoothly, giving me a smile across the table.
That makes Blue’s and Mariko’s smirks drop.
“With some girls,” Mistress Eira continues, “he enjoys the wait.” She steps over, holding out a hand. “Come, Aoki. I’ll help you get ready.”
Aoki winces. With a jagged breath, she looks at me, a white tinge to her lips where she sucks them in. “It’s what I wanted,” she breathes as she gets to her feet, a whisper that only the two of us hear, and I’m not entirely sure which one of us she’s trying to convince.
That night as I stay up waiting for Aoki to get back, I write home.
Dear Baba,
It’s been over a month since my first letter and I still haven’t heard from you. I’m hoping this is because the shop is so busy now and you’ve become such a celebrity in Xienzo that you don’t have time for your daughter anymore (remember her?). Or maybe Tien’s just been working you too hard (more likely). Whatever it is, please write soon. I miss you.
Palace life is highly overrated. There are hours of preparation before you can even leave your room, and there are rules for everything. Tien would love it. Also, the food is awful.
All right, not really. But I’d still trade it all for one of your pork dumplings any day.
All my love,
Lei
My brush hovers over the paper, wanting to add more. But Mistress Eira made it clear that I wasn’t to give out any details about the palace or my life here. Anyway, I wouldn’t want my father and Tien to know how difficult I’m finding things. I set the brush down, waiting until the ink dries before touching my fingers to it. As I trace each character, I imagine Baba’s and Tien’s hands doing the same in a few days. I bring the paper to my lips for a kiss. Then I roll the letter up, fastening it with a ribbon.
At this hour, the only light comes from the lantern in the corner of my room. Pattering rainfall fills the midnight hush. I sit back on my sleeping mat, pulling my legs to my chest. This is the third letter I’ve written to home, and I still haven’t heard anything back. I probably shouldn’t read too much into it—there are so many explanations as to why they haven’t responded yet. But I can’t help it. Maybe Madam Himura found out about the letters and stopped them from being sent as a punishment for my embarrassing her at the Unveiling Ceremony. Guilt wrings my belly as I remember Wren’s warning earlier today. Maybe, if I was performing better in my classes…
The sound of movement in the hallway snaps off the thought.
I get up, tucking my hair behind my ears, and move to the door. A figure passes, footsteps light.
Aoki’s back.
Clutching the silk of my night robe tighter around me, I glide the door open. The air is fresh from the rain, the floorboards cool beneath my bare soles. “Aoki?” I call softly after the retreating figure.
She doesn’t stop.
I hurry after her. She turns the corner, disappearing through a door that leads to the gardens at the back of the house. I hesitate. We’re not supposed to leave our rooms at night, let alone go outside. And if Aoki wanted me to go with her, wouldn’t she have left the door open?
Unsure now, I slide the door ajar. Rain-cooled air greets me. Beyond the house are gardens, graduating from manicured lawns and flowerbeds to a dense pine forest in the distance, moonlight silvering the treetops. I spot Aoki’s retreating figure just before she’s swallowed up by the dark line of the forest.
Only it isn’t Aoki.
It’s Wren.
Under the moonlight, her outline is unmistakable: long-limbed and broad-shouldered, with that slinking, feline prowl.
I stare at the spot where she disappeared between the trees, battling the urge to charge after her. Because while being caught wandering the house at night might earn us a slap and a lecture from Madam Himura, actually leaving the house to go gods-know-where and with gods-know-who will certainly have more serious consequences.
My lips press tight. And after her telling me to be careful.
I tiptoe back to my room. Sleep doesn’t come for a long time. I keep picturing Wren moving through the forest, winding her way easily through the pines, smiling as she spots the person she’s snuck out even in the rain to meet. In my head it’s a tall, shadowy man. He opens his arms and she wraps herself around him, dissolving into his touch, and in the pit of my belly, something dark stirs.
THIRTEEN
I DON’T GET A CHANCE TO speak to Aoki until the following morning. She comes to my side as we head down the raised walkways to the lake in the south of Women’s Court where our qi arts teacher, Master Tekoa, holds his classes. It’s a beautiful midsummer morning, bright and crisp, drops of rain from last night’s shower nestling in the cupped palms of leaves and the wooden buildings still stained dark. Yet the daylight shows how tired Aoki looks. Her eyes are puffy, her lips chapped.
Before I can say anything, Blue looks round. “Little Aoki!” she says, striding over. “How are you feeling after your special night?” Her grin is all teeth. “I’m surprised you’re even able to walk,” she goes on with a glance at Mariko. “I thought the King would have broken you.”
Mariko titters, but the other girls are quiet.
“Go away, Blue,” I snap, threading my fingers through Aoki’s.
Blue arches a brow. “Don’t you want to hear the saucy details, Nine? I’m surprised. I thought, since you still haven’t had any sauciness yourself…”
“Well, you thought wrong. Nothing new
there,” I add, and I notice Wren at the back of the group, her lips quirking.
Blue ignores me. “Come on, Aoki. Give us the details.”
“Yes, tell us!” Mariko chimes in. “Was he gentle with you? Or did he want it rough?”
Aoki’s cheeks grow splotchy, her freckles disappearing under the pink. “It’s—it’s private,” she stammers. She tucks her chin, a lock of auburn hair falling across her face.
“Private?” Blue regards her through squinted eyes. “Don’t you remember what Mistress Eira told us? There’s no such thing as private when it comes to being a Paper Girl.” And though I could be imagining it, I detect a note of bitterness in her voice.
“Ignore them,” I say, and tug on Aoki’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.” My eyes meet Wren’s. Before I can question what I’m doing, I march past the other girls toward her, pulling Aoki with me. “Could you send Master Tekoa our apologies for missing his lesson?” I ask her in a low voice. “Say there’s been a… female emergency.”
Though Wren’s eyebrows knit just a fraction, she gives a curt nod. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She shrugs. “It’s nothing,” she says, even though it’s not. If Master Tekoa decides to inquire into our absence, he’ll know Wren lied to him. She’d be punished along with Aoki and me. But I’m counting on the fact that the notion of a female emergency will be too embarrassing for him to press further. Master Tekoa is our only male teacher. The King gives him special permission to come into Women’s Court because Madam Himura insists, claiming he’s the best qi arts practitioner in the whole palace.
The rest of the girls are still watching us, most looking apprehensive. Chenna and the twins get on well with Aoki, and unlike me, they must know what she’s going through. All the girls were sullen the day after their first night with the King—even Mariko and Blue, though I’m sure they wouldn’t admit it now.
With a pointed look in Blue’s direction, as though defying her to intervene, Chenna comes over to us. “I cried all night after the first time,” she says, bending to clasp Aoki’s shoulders.
Aoki blinks, looking up with a sniff. “Really?”
Chenna nods. “It wasn’t easy for me, either.”
Over her head, Wren turns to me. “It’s all right, Lei,” she says. “Go.”
As her eyes meet mine, a spark of heat stirs in my chest. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the first time she’s spoken my name. My single syllable is surprisingly soft on her tongue, light, like a drop of rain. I think of her in the gardens last night, lit by moonlight. What she might have left Paper House for. Not just what—who?
And more: why do I care so much?
I break her gaze and mutter a thanks, quickly leading Aoki away.
The two of us find a secluded veranda at the back of a nearby teahouse to wait out the lesson. It overlooks a rock garden, an old gardener in a wide-brimmed straw hat sweeping the stones with a rake. She doesn’t look up as we kneel side by side on the edge of the porch, and the rhythm of her rake is comforting, a steady scrape that plays under the soundtrack of the teahouse, the chirp of birds in nearby trees.
“You don’t need to tell me about it,” I say into Aoki’s silence. She’s still avoiding my gaze, staring down where she’s playing with the sash at her waist. “I just thought you could use some time away from the others.”
She nods. Tears spring to her eyes. She swipes them away with her sleeve and mumbles thickly, “It’s stupid. It had to happen at some point, and it’s not like I didn’t want it to. I did. I mean, he’s the King. But…” Her voice wavers. “I never guessed it would feel like this.”
I lace my arm round her shoulder. “It was your first time, Aoki. It was bound to affect you. I guess that’s why we’re meant to wait until marriage,” I say, trying to sound like I know what I’m talking about. “So we are sure of the other person. So we’re sure of ourselves.”
Aoki sniffs. “I overheard one of my older sisters talking about it with her friend once. My parents were arranging for her to marry this boy from the neighboring village, and she met with him in secret one night before the deal was final.” She tucks her hair behind one ear and shoots me a wobbly smile. “They did… things. Not everything. But enough that I knew she’d be in serious trouble if my parents found out. But she told my parents the next day that she was happy to marry him.” Her smile disappears. “It must have been a good night,” she adds, muted. Then, even quieter, “I was so scared.”
I gather her to me, something hot flaring to life in my chest. How dare he scare her. Even though I haven’t seen him since the Unveiling Ceremony, I can still picture the King’s handsome face clearly.
I imagine punching it.
Rubbing her nose with one hand, Aoki looks up at me from under tear-wet lashes. “Are you scared? For when it’s your turn?”
Something in the tone of her voice sends a prickle down my spine. “Should I be?”
Aoki turns to the garden with unfocused eyes. “There was this boy in my village,” she starts. “Jun. He worked on the paddy fields, too. We didn’t talk much, but every time I saw him—any time I was near him—my whole body got all hot and I’d be so nervous I could never think what to say. He’d be smiling and I’d just be blushing like an idiot. Each look he gave me was like… like sunlight sweeping over me.” Her voice falters, and tears trace wet paths down her cheeks. Still twisting the sash in her fingers, she murmurs, “I—I thought it would be like that with the King.”
“Maybe you’ll feel that way next time,” I try, swiping her tears away with my fingertips. “Maybe with some people it just takes time.”
“Maybe,” she agrees.
But I can tell she doesn’t believe it.
For the rest of the day, Aoki is sullen. I didn’t realize how much I depended on her happy chatter, for her bubbly mood to lift my own. I try to cheer her up, whispering jokes when our teachers’ backs are turned and stealing for her sugared hopia pastries filled with peanut paste, one of her favorite sweets. But she says she isn’t hungry.
This, coming from a girl who can usually eat ten of these in one sitting and still have room for more.
As if mirroring Aoki’s mood, the weather turns over the course of the day. Heavy clouds roll in, so low I could jump up and touch them. We rush back from our last lesson, making it to Paper House just as it starts to pour.
I bump into Chenna on my way to the toilet. She gives me a nod as she passes, but I touch her shoulder to stop her. “Thank you,” I say. “For earlier.”
She gives me her usual half smile. “It’s all right. I have a little cousin back home. Aoki really reminds me of her. I know she’s sixteen, but she seems so much younger sometimes.”
I nod. “If only Blue and Mariko could leave her alone.”
“Like they do the rest of us?”
Chenna’s face is straight, so it takes me a moment to catch her joke. I let out a laugh. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Anyway,” she says, “Mariko’s actually pretty nice when she’s not around Blue. And I wouldn’t care too much what Blue says.” She looks like she’s about to say something more, so I lean forward, brow furrowing.
“What is it?” I press.
“Well, I don’t really like to talk about other people’s business. But seeing as it’s Blue…” She wets her lips. “Do you know who her father is?”
“Someone important at court, right?”
“Not just someone important—he’s the King’s only Paper caste adviser. Even the Hannos aren’t involved with the King’s council. Everyone knows the King is paranoid when it comes to dealing with the clans. Probably worried he’ll upset them one day and they’ll turn on him. But Blue’s father was exiled from his clan years ago.”
“Why?” I ask.
Chenna shrugs. “There are lots of different rumors. But whatever it was, he ended up here, and because he’s a free agent, the King seems to trust him more than most.”
<
br /> “What’s this got to do with Blue?”
“Everyone knows her father is after a promotion. The King’s first adviser died earlier this year and he still hasn’t appointed a successor.” Chenna’s coal-black irises don’t leave mine. “Blue is eighteen. She could have been entered into the Paper Girl selection before now. So her father putting her forward for the first time this year seems rather convenient, don’t you think?”
I frown. “But the selection process—”
“Is not mandatory for daughters of court officials.” She nods. “Not that there are many Paper caste court officials anyway, of course. But for the few who are, they’re granted an exception. Unless—”
“The family wants them to be considered, and enters them voluntarily,” I finish.
“What’s more,” Chenna goes on, “I heard some of the maids talking about how it was common knowledge Blue didn’t want to be put forward as a Paper Girl.”
Silence unfolds at this. Out of all the girls, Blue is the one I would have bet on for fighting tooth and nail to be selected. I imagined her following the selection of the Paper Girls since she was young, playing dress-up with her maids, pretending she was one of the chosen.
“Her father used her,” I state, hollow.
“It’s exactly what Blue would have done herself,” Chenna replies with a lift of a shoulder.
The coolness in her voice makes me wince. Tien had told me how Paper caste families offer up their daughters in the hopes of gaining favor with the court. But hearing Chenna talk so frankly about it…
Being traded against your will by your own father can’t feel nice. Even for someone like Blue.
“Chenna,” I say as she moves away, “how do you know all this?”
Something flickers in her dark eyes. “The King talks a lot,” she answers, an edge to her voice. “Especially after a few glasses of sake.”
It’s not until I’m coming back from the toilet that I comprehend the significance of Chenna’s words.