by JC Kang
The princess lifted her chin and straightened her back, not deigning to afford Tian another glance.
It was time to diffuse the awkwardness. “Dian-xia,” Jie said, “allow me to go ahead of you and check your rooms. There might be more than one intruder. Please wait here.”
The princess cast a sidelong glance in Tian’s direction. “I shall not wait here. I am well protected with you and my guards.” Despite her defiance, her voice carried a hint of embarrassment and her hand trembled.
“Forgive my insolence, Dian-xia,” Jie said without a hint of sincerity, “but if there is someone in your rooms, I want to apprehend them. If they hear you coming, they will try to escape. Unfortunately, Chen Xin and Ma Jun could not sneak up on a deaf man. If anyone, send Li Wei several paces behind me.” She flashed a grin at the imperial guards.
The princess nodded. “As you suggest, Jie. The rest of us will take the north hall, which should give you plenty of time.” With a flourishing sweep of her robe, she turned and glided up the corridor, guards and handmaidens scurrying to keep up.
Only after the princess had disappeared around the corner of the hall did Tian lift his head. He wore an expressionless look, save for his rigidly set jaw and twitching neck muscles.
When had he ever had such a reaction before? Was he angry or humiliated? She grinned. “You did the right thing. At first, that is.”
Without ever making eye contact or acknowledging her comment, Tian slipped into his office and closed the door.
Attitude from him, too. Jie snorted and turned back towards the princess’ suites in the south hall. She drifted lightly along the hardwood floors, motioning for Li Wei to wait at the corner.
Another imperial guard, Zhao Yue, stood at the door to the suite. She signaled for him to stay put as she approached. The crack beneath the door was dark. She placed a hand and an ear to it. Even if her father had abandoned her, at least he had left her with superior hearing.
Inside, there were almost inaudible sounds of activity. Whoever was in there was good. Moquan-good.
Jie looked first at Zhao Yue and then back towards Li Wei at the junction of the west and south halls, and then made simple hand gestures. I am going in. You, she pointed to Zhao Yue, follow. You, she nodded at Li Wei, go down and to the other side. A three-year-old would understand. An imperial guard was another matter.
She withdrew four magical light baubles from a pocket concealed in her dress sleeves. A quick push on the door opened it a crack. Grasping a knife, she tossed the beads through and burst in.
All had been in order when Jie had checked the suite an hour earlier. Now, several ornate lacquer and brocade boxes were open, revealing extravagant gowns, musical instruments and jewelry.
A large fair-haired youth, his face darkened by pitch, rose to his feet near one of the boxes. He screened his eyes with one hand and reached for a shortsword with the other. Beyond him, at the double doors leading out onto the grand balcony, a young Hua male squinted at her.
With her left hand, Jie reached into the fold of her dress and flung a throwing spike at the man near the balcony doors. In the same motion she surged towards the youth by the box.
He swung his sword with such precision, his vision must’ve already adjusted to the sudden light.
She whipped out another knife from her sleeve with her left hand, leaving her left flank exposed to bait him. As he lunged with a thrust towards the opening, she twisted out of his line of attack and slashed through the tendons in his wrist.
Even before the sword slipped from his limp fingers, Jie passed under his arm and severed his knee ligaments with a backhand slash. She finished the motion with a shoulder butt to his floating ribs. Despite being more than twice as large, he tumbled to the ground with a grunt.
Zhao Yue and Li Wei charged in. Both of them. Jie kicked the sword out of the youth’s reach before turning her attention towards the young man near the balcony doors.
Her spike had lodged on the right side of his chest, likely puncturing a lung. It had him keeled over on all fours, gasping for breath. As Jie approached, he lobbed a knife at her. Thrown with little force, it was easy to sidestep. The blade clattered harmlessly along the floor behind her.
In two steps, she kicked his hand out from under him. Cocking her foot back, she drove her heel into his temple. He collapsed in a heap with a muffled groan.
Not wasting a beat, Jie edged over to the door into the sleeping chambers and peeked around the corner. Empty.
However, one of the eastern windows overlooking the bathhouse courtyard stood open. After a quick glance into the dressing room, she went to the window and screeched out a birdcall that would notify her Moquan brothers of potential danger.
Jie returned to the antechamber, where the imperial guards kept a watchful eye over the intruders. “I will take the princess to the east-wing guest room until we clean up this mess. Get one of the embassy guards to bring these prisoners down to the storerooms, and tell them to bring the doctor. This one needs help if we want him to survive long enough for interrogation.”
She slipped out of the room and up the east hall, where she found the princess and her entourage.
The princess’ posture was straight and her pace deliberate, her regal bearing suggesting that she’d put the awkward incident with Tian behind her. However, her jawline quivered and her eyes locked forward, unfocussed. Hiding her embarrassment, no doubt.
Jie dropped to her knee. “Dian-xia, we are dealing with a security issue in your quarters. I will report to you when the entire picture is clear. Until we resolve things, please use these guest quarters, next to the ambassador’s suite.” She motioned with an open hand towards a door.
The princess simply nodded, and Jie went to listen at the door.
Satisfied that it was empty, she opened it and took a quick look in. Her night vision—another legacy of elven parentage—penetrated the darkness, casting the bed and table in hues of green. Nothing seemed amiss.
Meiling, the princess’ handmaiden and decoy, glared at her. “The princess will require appropriate attire for the reception tonight.”
Jie motioned for Meiling to follow her as she turned back towards the princess’ suite. It had transformed into a beehive of maids and guards in the short time she was gone, with the Mistress of Chambers directing cleanup efforts. Embassy guards carried out the prisoners.
Jie smirked as Meiling blanched. “Which robe did the princess intend to wear tonight?”
“The plain white silk, hanging in her changing room.” Meiling waved an open hand towards the sleeping chambers and the dressing room that lay beyond.
Jie slunk in and examined the robe under the bright illumination of a light bauble. She sniffed and ran her hands over the luxuriant fabric, which felt almost like mist made solid. Undraping it, she handed it to Meiling. “This is safe. Wait while l check her cosmetics.”
Face powders of crushed pearl, rouges of danhua flowers, jade combs and make-up brushes of phoenix feathers lay neatly arranged on a rosewood table with ornately carved borders. Jie caught herself looking at her reflection in the large silver mirror, imagining herself made-up, wearing a silken gown. What would Tian think of that?
The reflection of Meiling, lips pursed in amusement, brought her back to the present. How silly, to think of such vanity. She returned to the make-up, again smelling and taking the minutest of tastes.
“This lip rouge might have been tainted.” Jie held up a small mother-of-pearl case before stashing it in her sleeve. “The others are safe. You may take these to the princess so that she might prepare.”
She dismissed the handmaiden with a jerk of her head and returned to the antechamber to examine the boxes. Suspicious powdery residue clung to the three finest court gowns. Those she placed in a box, which she had embassy guards take to her own quarters.
After an exchange of fake bird calls to confirm the compound was secure, Jie descended into the network of tunnels and rooms beneath the grounds.
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Originating from the warehouse, the network had started as cold storage, hewn into the subterranean rock. It had been further excavated over twenty years to include several rooms and two escape routes into the city sewers.
She found Tian in a musty room filled with wooden crates. Two of the intruders, now bound and blindfolded, sat motionless in deceptively flimsy-looking bloodwood chairs.
Unlike other young Hua males, the tall, brawny youths sported the close-cropped hair favored by mercenaries and Teleri soldiers. Balcony Boy’s knee and ankle wounds had since been bound, using strips of cloth torn from his loose-fitting black pants. Those pants were part of an ensemble that resembled the utility suits the Moquan wore on night missions.
Blond Boy was similarly dressed and coifed, his face now washed to reveal the fair skin of a Nothori. The last, also Hua, lay on a blanket, hands bound in front of him. His breathing was labored and blood flecked his lips. With wounds like that, he wouldn’t last the night.
Tian would not look at her, and instead made himself busy rummaging through the prisoners’ effects: climbing cat-claws, a kit of lockpicks, Aksumi light beads, straight shortswords, small flasks, various small throwing weapons, hemp twine, and other tools.
In almost every respect, they appeared Moquan. However, the Hua youths did not resemble any of the warrior-spies and recruits who had passed through the Black Lotus Temple in the last three decades Jie had been there.
After an up-close examination, it was clear what they were. If only Tian would acknowledge her so they could confer. He was still keeping to himself, sulking from his encounter with the princess.
“Knight takes queen, and looks stupid doing it,” she said.
Tian looked up from the tools, scowling.
She flashed her most innocent smile, and his expression softened.
Not wanting the prisoners to overhear, Jie used the Moquan’s silent body signals. Teleri Nightblades. Bovyans trained by Moquan traitor. I was tracking. You fought one in Jiangkou.
Tian pointed at the two who looked like their Hua countrymen. These not Bovyan. Are Hua.
Jie waved her hands back and forth. Bovyans always look like mother. See, huge for Hua.
After another look at the two, Tian shrugged. But small for a Bovyan.
Jie nodded. Small ones do other military specialties. Spies. Logistics.
“You should’ve told me. Earlier,” Tian said.
Jie shrugged. Not many Nightblades at all. All in East.
At least three here. Tian pointed at the two bound boys, and the dying one.
“I will find out more,” Jie replied. You prepare for reception.
A sheepish grin appeared on Tian’s face. “That will be awkward. I am sorry. About earlier.”
She waved him off with a smile, though saying in her most lethal voice, “You had better be.”
The tone was for the benefit of the prisoners, to whom she turned her full attention once Tian disappeared from the room.
Balcony Boy sat, seemingly unfazed by his predicament, his breathing calm and shoulders relaxed.
Jie had many ways to unsettle a man.
She reached into the sleeve of her dress and withdrew a single-edged knife with a sharp rasp. Slowly, she ran the blunt side across the top of the boy’s lip, pausing for a brief second of pressure in the divot under his nose.
His knuckles whitened around the chair’s delicately curved armrests, and he let out a sharp breath of air. Despite his initial calm, he was not trained as thoroughly as a Black Lotus Moquan.
She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “You will talk. Save yourself the misery.”
He laughed, but it was half-hearted, forced. When he spoke, his voice straddled the divide between puberty and adulthood. “Do what you will, bitch. I won’t talk.”
“You were trained by a Black Fist spy. I can tell.” Jie took out a small flask and uncorked it. A sweet fragrance diffused through the small room. She held it under his nose. “So tell me, what is this?”
He bit his lip.
“I suspect you know quite a bit about contact toxins, since you put a powder in the princess’ cosmetics. And staged toxins, since I found some deer horn velvet in her dresses. So you know that if I took the first powder and mixed it with yinghua flowers instead of the deer horn, it would make a male-specific toxin instead of a female-specific one. Like what is in this bottle.”
He cast his gaze downward. He knew.
Dabbing a small amount of the fluid onto her lips, she slid behind his back. She then lightly pressed her chest against his back and brushed her lips across his neck. Feminine wiles would probably be enough to bend a hot-blooded teen boy to her will. The euphoric intoxication he would feel from the toxin would make him soft clay in her hands.
Now why would the Teleri want the princess in such a state?
CHAPTER 7:
Princesses Unraveled
First the humiliation of being manhandled into a compromising position; then enemy spies rummaging through her clothes and jewelry. Throughout it all, Kaiya had maintained her composure, had tried to seem aloof even if her heart had raced. Now, with her handmaidens and imperial guards waiting outside the guest room, the privacy afforded her a chance to unravel.
The worst part was seeing the awkward, gentle boy from her fondest memories transform into a brutal killing machine. Letting out a long sigh, she threw herself down in a chair in front of the writing desk that now served as a make-up table. In the mirror, her straight carriage slumped back and her placid expression contorted into distress. Tears welled in her eyes. Her hands trembled freely, matching the rhythm of her fluttering heart.
She shook hair into her face, as if it would hide her shame. It was her fault. After years of having no real friends, here was a rare chance to reconnect with her one-time confidante. Perhaps even share secrets like they had as children. She should’ve waited until morning to call upon his cobweb sanctuary instead of visiting unannounced.
Tian had been trying to protect her from what he perceived to be a clear and present danger. She knew. Even so, Tian holding her down on top of him was too reminiscent of Rumiya seizing her face.
With the need to always project the image of control, it was hard to feel so powerless. The memory of dark confinement rushed back, threatening to unravel her at a time when Hua needed her resolve. She was holding her breath. Her chest tightened.
No, she wouldn’t go there. She wasn’t that helpless girl anymore. She’d secured a mutual protection pact with the Paladins. Transformed a dragon with her voice. She was in control of her own destiny.
She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
Her heartbeat slowed. Kaiya opened her eyes and looked in the mirror to find the lines of weakness gone from her face. The Dragon Charmer had replaced the scared little girl. Tilting her neck at just the right angle, she tested a demure smile, a mischievous rise of an eyebrow, an innocent blink, a flirtatious pout—all tools that could be just as useful as the magic of her voice.
One more deep breath, and she rose to her feet. She slipped on an outer robe with long hanging sleeves.
As she brushed her hair, a light rap on the door was followed by her handmaiden Meiling’s voice. “Dian-xia, Zhuyue has waxed well towards its third gibbous. Your guests have been waiting almost half an hour.”
How had the time slipped away from her? She must seem like a spoiled brat to everyone around her. Her heart quickened a beat, but she fought back the rising flustered feeling with another deep breath.
“Enter,” she commanded.
The door swung open, revealing her handmaidens in silken floral gowns, kneeling. Her most trusted imperial guards stood behind them, now immaculate in their dark-blue robes and burnished breastplates. The five-clawed dragons etched into the steel seemed to wink at her with their gleaming eyes.
Confidence building, she smiled. They might be late, but at least they wouldn’t dishonor Father with their appearance!
Amb
assador Wu stepped forward from behind the imperial guards and bowed. “Dian-xia, please follow me to the banquet.”
With a nod, she glided out of the room and fell in behind the ambassador, following him down the grand stairway and into the central hall.
If the rest of the embassy compound felt like an imitation of Hua, the enormous banquet room was nothing but. Modeled on ancient Arkothi-style architecture, it took up the northern end of the building, vaulting two stories with an overlooking mezzanine. A dozen windows on the northern wall, made by Estomari glassmakers in Iksuvius, reached nearly to the ceiling and looked out onto a meditative rock garden. Color brush-paintings and black-and-white calligraphy by some of Hua’s most famous masters graced its walls.
Prominent Hua families and senior embassy officials alike had arrived well in advance. They formed a rectangle on the dark hardwoods, each person kneeling on a cushion of light blue silk with gold-colored embroidery. As she entered, all bowed, bringing their foreheads to the ground, open hands on the floor in front of them. If only they knew she’d been a quivering mess of nerves just half an hour ago.
There—Tian sat in the far corner of the rectangle. Although all avoided direct eye contact with her as etiquette demanded, he was doing a particularly good job at it. Maybe it was for the better. She glided to her place at the head of the rectangle, then settled to her knees onto a cushion.
She nodded her head. “Please sit comfortably.”
All bowed again. The male guests switched into a cross-legged position, while the women shifted their weight to relieve pressure on their knees. General Zheng of the imperial guard took a seat on her left. Ambassador Wu, on her right, motioned for the servants to bring the food.
They placed a low, small table in front of each person. Chopsticks rested at exacting angles on every table, accompanied by a bowl of rice, a plate of boiled Nothori clams, a small saucer of soy sauce-braised pork belly, a low-rimmed bowl of stir-fried Nothori greens, a small plate of fried Nothori squash, and a lacquer bowl of turnip soup.