by JC Kang
It was worth the risk, for the improbable chance to grow in the power of Dragon Songs. With a bow, Kaiya left the courtyard and ambled through the paved alley until it came to a white rock path. She listened as it wound through a garden in the inner castle. Somewhere beyond the budding plum trees, master musicians sparred in an improvised duel between pipa and the two-stringed erhu.
Her imperial guards marched behind her, crunching the stones beneath their boots, synchronizing with the beat of the song in the background. The handmaidens followed with the shuffle of robes. Though the Spring Festival was just a few days away, winter maintained a tenuous grip on the breeze. She tightened the outer gown around her shoulders.
And discovered Lord Xu had not followed.
Her footsteps fell short at the edge of the Danhua Garden. Before her, the mottled trunk of a weeping Danhua tree curved upward, its willowy limbs cascading downward in strands of red buds. On the ground at the edge of the canopy, almond shrubs formed a circle, their still-grey buds clinging to bare branches. Inside the circle, two of her music teachers sat with perfect posture, playing ornate instruments.
Master Yong Shu ran his bow across the erhu in furious strokes, the whine of its two strings urgent. Master Ding Meihui plucked at her pipa, calm and resolute, waiting. Middle-aged now, rumor had it the two had been involved in a torrid relationship almost three decades before, culminating in their epic performance before her newly enthroned father.
That was then, and age and cynicism had since set in, evident from their strict lessons. Yet at this moment, their performance captured passion and youth, making them seem fresh and vibrant again. Buzzing like a hummingbird’s wings, his notes pranced like a fire blazing, while hers churned like the swell of a tidal wave.
Kaiya’s spirit soared and her belly fluttered. This was love, made tangible by sound. Her feelings for Hardeep, perhaps. Too soon, the duet ended. Master Yong turned to her and bowed low, and Master Ding followed suit.
Finding her breath, Kaiya returned their salute with a low bow. Princess or not, she might as well have been a beggar before her teachers. She straightened and walked into the ring of shrubs. “I have never heard such a passionate performance.”
Master Yong nodded. “We will play tonight at a reception in honor of your brother’s wedding.”
Right, the reception. The one she would have to escape if she had any chance of leaving the castle and meeting Hardeep. Yet with a new world opened to her ears, and General Lu fleeing their matchmaking appointment, the opportunities seemed boundless. Everything fell into place as if Heaven had willed it.
“What made their song so distinctive?” Lord Xu whispered in her ear.
Kaiya’s heart might have jumped into her throat. Where had he come from?
“Well?” Xu raised an eyebrow.
There were too many details to mention! Kaiya could barely contain her smile. “The harmony and balance. Two opposite styles coming together to form a whole.”
“Very good,” Xu said.
Master Ding clapped her hands. “You will soon outshine us.”
“Never.” Kaiya bowed her head.
Master Ding laughed. “The greatest honor for a teacher is for the student to surpass her.”
Wiping sweat from his brow, Master Yong grunted. “Our piece reflects the interaction between Yin and Yang, the push and pull, the mutual creation of harmony.”
Xu harrumphed. “Call it what you will, the key is that you listened and understood. Now, try it yourself.”
Bowing, Master Ding stood and gestured to her seat. “Please, Dian-xia.”
Try? Someone who was just learning about love could not imitate that music. To do so would be an insult to what they had just played. She begged them off with a wave of her hand.
With a scowl, Lord Xu nudged her toward the seat with a hand. “Please, Dian-xia.”
It might as well have been an order, audacious for a lord, but perhaps not for Xu. Kaiya nodded. In any case, Hardeep had asked her to practice. What better way to practice, than with two of her best teachers and an elf wizard?
Master Ding bowed. “Remember what I played, but do not let that constrain you. Let Master Yong guide you, and you will find you are guiding him.”
Such curious advice, especially given the rigidity with which both usually taught. Kaiya sat, rooting her feet to the ground and straightening her spine as Hardeep had suggested. Satisfied her posture met his standards, she nestled the pipa in her arms. Like before, it felt lifeless compared to Yanyan’s.
“You have to give it life,” Lord Xu said.
Kaiya’s pulse skipped a beat. It was as if the elf could read minds.
Master Yong laughed and swept his bow across the erhu. A jubilant sound burst forth.
The melody would work so well with what Master Ding had just played. Kaiya plucked the strings, copying the beautiful music note for note. The sound resonated inside of her, coiling in her belly again as it had done in the Hall of Pure Melody. Kaiya adjusted her posture, and the vibrations percolated from her arms into her core, and then into the ground. Capture this, and she was one step closer to helping Prince Hardeep.
Seize the song’s emotion and make it your own, the book had implored. This song was more difficult than the one in that ancient tome, mixing jubilance with resolve. Opposites. Impossible to grasp both at the same time. What had Master Ding thought of when she was playing?
Love, perhaps? What she might have felt for Master Yong so many years ago? Not like Kaiya could even understand, given her own limited experience. Zheng Tian? They’d talked about marriage at a time when they thought it just meant always being able to play with one another. Hardeep? She barely knew him, even if his eyes twisted her stomach into knots. General Lu? She’d never learn what love was with him.
On the periphery of her vision, Master Ding’s tight lips sank into a frown. Master Yong’s playing fell out of beat with Kaiya’s own. No, she was losing it. Blowing out the breath she held, she lowered her hands.
“Dian-xia, if I may.” Master Ding held up a hand. “Your playing is technically perfect. It would make a wonderful solo…”
But.
Master Yong lowered his bow. “If I may, Dian-xia. We are not playing off each other, as a duet should. Ideally, as my song pushes, yours receives. When you expand, I contract.”
Lord Xu nodded. “You are playing what you want, and you are doing it very well. However, you are not listening. That is the key to playing a song like this.”
No denying it. So focused had she been on replicating Master Ding’s piece, Kaiya had missed the changes Master Yong had improvised. She bowed her head in contrition.
“Keep practicing, keep listening,” Lord Xu said. “I will seek you out when you have made another breakthrough.” He disappeared, the air popping where he had stood.
Kaiya covered her gasp with a hand. It was surprising to see him disappear just like that, but not nearly so shocking as his certainty that she would make another breakthrough.
CHAPTER 13
Dilemmas
Kaiya listened to the chirping of birds as a cold breeze whispered through new tree buds. Perhaps a garden wasn’t the best place to practice the pipa; not when the chill brought goosebumps to her exposed arms. However, Lord Xu had implored her to listen, and it was near impossible to distinguish sounds with the preparations for tonight’s reception stirring a ruckus inside the castle.
Never moving from its reliable spot in the halls of heaven, Caiyue waxed to mid-crescent. Prince Hardeep wanted to meet past sundown at the first waxing gibbous, four hours hence. That left plenty of time to practice. Maybe she could show how far she’d progressed just from the morning. The thought sent prickles dancing through her core.
Focus. She shook the excitement out of her head. The book instructed the musician to seize the song’s emotion and make it her own. She’d read the lines over and over again since leaving her teachers, and tried to play the song with the happiness it embodied. If
she could affect General Lu, certainly she could influence the mood of her handmaidens.
One more try. Adjusting her posture, she lowered her hands to the strings and plucked out perfect notes. Her rendition of the song was so precise, it had to work. She cast a glance at Han Meiling and the imperial guards Chen Xin and Ma Jun. They stood like statues on the veranda, almost blending into the background. Despite her best efforts with the music, they remained stoic as always; the exact opposite of the song’s intended effect.
Her lower lip jutted out. Learning from a book was getting her nowhere. The sensation of power she’d felt, first in the Hall of Pure Melody with Yanyan’s pipa, then later when playing for General Lu, seemed so distant. Like a dream.
Listen, Lord Xu’s voice echoed in her mind, almost too real and with too much of an exasperated tone to be the memory from just an hour before.
She closed her eyes and opened her ears: the battle between spring and winter, played out in the birdsongs, wind, and waves. Spring sang an uncertain song as winter held a tenuous grip. The irregularity of weather seemed just like Prince Hardeep’s influence. She had broken more rules this day than she had her entire life, even angered the man Father wanted her to marry.
The uncertainty found its way into her music as she strummed a random tune on her pipa, the hesitant notes reflecting the weather and her emotions. Duty dictated marriage to the general. Her soul wanted to sing with the song of the world. An impossible dream before today, but now her spirit soared. Between Prince Hardeep’s promise of the Dragon Scale Lute, and Lord Xu’s certainty of a future breakthrough, it now seemed possible.
It also meant leaving the palace tonight, during a formal reception no less, using some lie to meet Hardeep. His Ankira needed her help, but it shouldn’t require sneaking behind Father’s back. It shouldn’t require imposing her will through magic. Even if it were the right thing to do. Surely, there had to be other avenues. Her notes wobbled.
She steadied her breath, and the music with it. Right. It was best to obey the rules. Stay in the castle tonight.
Not that it was even possible to escape. A thousand eyes would be on her, because either the Household Ministry secretary or the Hall of Pure Melody’s steward had undoubtedly reported to Father about her unapproved adventures in the palace. Minister Hu had probably spread the lie that Hardeep wanted to take her hostage. Maybe he did.
Father might be too busy preparing for the reception now, but when it did come time to mete out punishment, he would probably forbid any more contact with Prince Hardeep—in addition to any other reprimand she might face.
In the corner of her eye, blue robes twitched in a short blur of motion. Chen Xin and Ma Jun had shuffled, perhaps from the uncertainties in her music.
Another flash of blue and black robes swirled from beyond the veranda. Maybe they were just reacting to that.
No. It was her music. It had to be. It was a sign. All uncertainties melted. She was destined to liberate Ankira.
“Young Lord Peng Kai-Long requests an audience with Princess Kaiya,” a male voice cracked from the edge of the garden. Household Affairs Secretary Hong’s. He’d been following her around quite a bit today. A spy perhaps, there at his ministry’s bidding—or even Father’s—to make sure she didn’t break any more rules.
Her hands froze over the strings. She set the pipa down and searched for the voice’s source. The old man bowed, his lips tight like he had just sucked on sour plums. Cousin Kai-Long stood at his side, folding a sheet of paper.
A letter from Prince Hardeep? Her heart pattered. Another sign.
Kai-Long took the steps down the veranda. “Dian-xia,” he started, addressing her formally. Even though he was an elder cousin, her position as a princess from the direct ruling line ranked her above him.
Eyes on the letter, she smiled. “Cousin, you do not need to stand on formality.”
“As you command, Kaiya.” He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes searching hers.
His sarcasm was infectious. She covered a giggle with her fingers, then pointed at the paper in his hand. “Is that…?”
He looked down at the paper and then held it up. Elephant left three. “I am playing a game of blind chess. This is my latest move.”
Her heart sunk. Instead of a letter from Hardeep, it was just of a confusing game. Chess made little sense, but Father and Kai-Long bonded over it. “Are you winning?”
“Yes, though it wouldn’t be evident.” His lips twitched. He cast a glance at the imperial guards, then leaned in and whispered—practically mouthed: “I have a plan to get you out of the palace.”
Kaiya stole a glance back at her guards, who showed no sign of having heard him. Thank the Heavens for her good ears. She held up a hand to stay her guards, and then shuffled a little farther down the path.
At a safe distance away, she turned to face him. “During a reception in honor of my brother’s wedding? And...what about General Lu?”
Kai-Long’s grin stretched from ear to ear, and he suppressed a chuckle. “When I got back to the palace, General Lu was storming out. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d been crying. The servants and officials all say he did not even report to the Ministry of Appointments.”
The betrothal remained up in the air. Maybe the general had given up on marriage. Hopefully, someone would tell her something before tonight. “Still, I’m supposed to be sitting at the head of the room, next to Kai-Wu and his bride. Someone will notice my absence.”
If Kai-Long shook his head any more, it might wobble off. “Trust me. Old Hong there—” he tilted his head toward the palace official still on the veranda, who ogled them and wrung his hands “—has agreed to help. It took a little convincing. I also called in several favors among the young lords and palace staff.”
Kaiya searched his eyes. Nothing but sincerity. Before coming of age and being assigned as a diplomat, Kai-Long had virtually grown up in the palace, had always been close to her and Tian. More than once, he had kept them from getting into trouble. Of course he would have her best interests at heart. Still…. She shook her head. “It risks too many people. It will betray Father’s trust in you.”
Kai-Long cast his gaze down. In shame, no doubt, considering Father’s fondness for him. Before Kai-Long had been sent to Ayuri lands, the two used to share tea on a regular basis, and play Hua chess. He raised his head. “That’s too bad. Prince Hardeep told me only someone of your talent could use his magical instrument.”
Her destiny. Was it worth breaking yet more rules? Exposing collaborators to potential punishment? The memory of Yanyan’s pipa sent a tingling through Kaiya’s hands and into her core. It had caused her to pass out. No telling what a similar instrument could do, with her out in the city without guards.
But oh, the possibilities! And Prince Hardeep would be there with his Paladin skills, to protect her. Her chest swelled. “What would you do?”
“Kaiya,” Kai-Long said, taking her hand in his. “You must make that decision for yourself. Just know that Prince Hardeep told me you have a gift. He wholeheartedly believes it is like none other since Yanyan herself.”
Heat flared, and her hands went sweaty. The exuberant bubble in her chest threatened to choke off her air. Prince Hardeep’s kind blue eyes saw her. Her potential to do good in this world. He didn’t care about how plain she looked. To him, she was more than a stepping-stone to power.
Still, Father also loved her unconditionally. The excitement withered, and the swell of her chest deflated. “Whatever I choose, I will betray someone.”
“Not necessarily.” Kai-Long squeezed her hand. “I have friends in Vyara City who remember when the Dragon Scale Lute repelled Avarax. If you learn to use it, you can help Hua. Remember what the Tianzi said about the lords of the North. Remember that if Ankira falls, aggressive Madura will be on our border, and I am sure they have stockpiles of firepowder.”
It did make sense, and provided a means of getting official permission. She nodded. “I am sure the T
ianzi will see the logic. I will go to him—”
He released her hand and raised his own. “If you decide to leave the castle—and I will support whatever you choose—the Tianzi must not know. Because if he denies your request, all eyes will be on you during the reception, making my plan impossible. It will also be direct disobedience to his order, punishable by death.”
Kaiya twirled a lock of hair. If it was just herself to consider, the chance to find her potential, beyond a political marriage, was worth the risk of death. After all, the proverb of marriage being a woman’s grave rang even more true from what she’d seen of the short and pompous General Lu.
But what about collaborators? Anyone who helped her escape the castle—from servants to Hardeep and even Kai-Long—would face certain torture and execution. No, asking for permission was out of the question. She searched Kai-Long’s eyes again, finding nothing but devotion and support. “Tell me your plan. If it endangers anyone besides myself, I cannot go through with it.”
“There is magic in the world beyond Paladin fighting skills and our master craftsmen.” Grinning, Kai-Long pulled her behind a large tree, out of the guards’ line of sight. He withdrew a red silk pouch and emptied what appeared to be a light bauble into his bare palm.
Kaiya gasped. Kai-Long’s face was gone, replaced by her own—or at least, a flattering rendition based off an official court painting. His broad shoulders and muscled frame now withered to her slim, flat build, and his court robes seemed to shrink to size.
Her mouth open and closed in an unladylike manner until one word could escape. “H-How?”
When he spoke, it was with his own voice, making the situation all the more disconcerting. “An Aksumi illusionist I knew in Vyara City made it.”