by Julie C. Dao
“A nutritious diet becomes even more crucial as one gets older, I’m sure, even if one has Emperor Jun’s strong constitution and an excellent physician like yourself.”
Gao flushed with pleasure, relaxing a bit. “And if one eats a single meal a day, as His Majesty does, one ought to ensure the food is of the highest quality.”
“The Emperor eats so little?” Jade asked, blinking at him.
“The Empress believes that too much food makes him poorly. And I agree,” the physician added. “His Majesty takes a light midday meal to avoid sleep disturbances.”
It seemed Emperor Jun’s wasted body could be attributed to starvation as much as to illness. Jade’s hands clenched, but she kept her voice light and cheerful. “I wonder if three light meals wouldn’t have the same benefit. Only one can’t be enough for a grown man.”
Gao’s easy manner faded. He removed his spectacles and wiped them with a cloth from his case. “The regimen has seemed beneficial so far, Your Highness.”
“Exercise might help, too,” Jade persisted. “I’ve noticed how well I feel after walking outdoors, though of course His Majesty is too weak for that. Still, it might do him some good to move around his room from time to time.”
“Never, Your Highness. The Empress feels he would get worse if he did so.”
The Empress believes. The Empress feels. Jade wanted to shake the nervous man and shout, You are the physician, are you not? Still, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay alive.
She noticed him wipe sweaty hands on his tunic and took pity on him. But one more question couldn’t hurt. “My father takes a certain medicine from a gold ladle. Her Majesty told me how effective it has been. What a testament to your skills!”
Gao closed his medicine case, his face miserable. “I cannot claim credit for it, Princess.”
Jade pounced. “Who makes it, then?”
At that moment, the door leading into Jade’s interior chambers slid open and Kang appeared, his massive frame filling the doorway. “My apologies. I come with a message from Her Majesty, but perhaps I ought to return later?”
“Good morning, Kang,” Jade said, struggling to keep her voice calm. Her eyes cut to the front entrance, securely closed. “We didn’t see you come in.”
Wren moved forward, watching Kang with sharp eyes as he entered the room. When he held a scroll out to Jade, she snatched it away with a scowl and gave it to Jade herself. “I’ll go check on my grandmother,” she said pointedly, her gaze never leaving the eunuch as she stepped out, and Jade knew she’d had the same thought—that he had crept past Amah napping in her bed.
“I used the maids’ back entrance,” Kang told Jade smoothly. “I’m sorry to have surprised you.” His eyes had the unsettling habit of darting about—he was always thinking, always watching. And, like Xifeng, he had a way of saying one thing and meaning another.
“I wasn’t aware there were multiple exits from my apartments,” Jade answered.
“As leader of the Five Tigers, Her Majesty’s most trusted eunuchs, I make it my business to know as many passages as possible, both above- and underground. It would be my honor to show you one today, if you’ll accompany me to the main palace.” He gave her a second, much smaller scroll. “Lady Tran is having tea with a relative and would like you to join them.”
“I’d be delighted.” Jade glanced over the short, kind message, then broke the black seal on Xifeng’s letter. The ink looked barely dry, as though the Empress had written it moments ago, and as Jade read it, she realized her assumption was true. Underneath Xifeng’s invitation to dine that night, she urged Jade not to disturb Gao unless absolutely necessary.
The Imperial physician is the most learned man of his profession. I would prefer that his time be spent formulating new remedies for your honored father.
Jade kept her face blank, knowing Kang was watching her reaction. Busy as she was, the Empress of a Hundred Thousand Eyes and Ears still had time to spy on her stepdaughter. But under her anger and disdain, Jade felt a thread of fear, too. The palace suddenly felt too small and her quarters too close to Xifeng’s.
“Could you please tell Her Majesty I would be honored to join her this evening?” Jade ran her tense fingers over the lovely script chastising her for bothering Gao. “And if the Empress has anything she would like to speak to me about in the future, please let her know I am but a floor away and ready to receive her gracious presence.”
The slightest surprise flashed on Kang’s face. “Very good. I will deliver your reply and return to escort you to tea.” This time, he made sure to use the main entrance to leave.
Wren returned, still scowling. “Grandmother’s sleeping like a baby, but I hate knowing he can come in anytime, unseen. I haven’t the faintest idea where he slithered in.” Her frown deepened when Jade told her what Xifeng’s message had said. “He was listening at the door, wherever it is. I’ll search for it while you’re at tea.”
Jade gave a heavy sigh. “I’d appreciate that.”
Wren lowered her voice. “That nervous eunuch with the mole returned the message you wrote to the Emperor this morning. That’s the fourth note he’s brought back. But he mumbled something to me this time. He said to tell you, ‘Have patience. Attempt no more.’”
Jade shook her head in disbelief, but upon hearing Kang’s footsteps, she wrapped herself in a cloak and met him on the walkway. He had brought five other eunuchs, one of whom had his arms full of silk-enveloped packages. Seeing that someone had already opened the gifts for her, Jade easily spotted a comb, a painted fan, and a bundle of violet satin.
“Tokens from the court ladies who visited the other day. They enjoyed Your Highness’s company greatly,” Kang explained. “It is the Empress’s orders that all offerings be inspected for your protection. Quite routine, like having your food tasted.”
Jade wondered if they had also opened all of her notes to her father, for his protection. She led the way toward the stairs. “Who is this relative with whom Lady Tran is having tea?”
“Former Ambassador Shiro, who used to be a friend of Her Majesty’s,” Kang told her, and she did not miss his use of the past tense. “Shiro’s cousin Hana married Lady Tran’s brother, and their son, Minh, is being raised at court thanks to the Empress’s generosity. Her Majesty was kind enough to let Shiro come today and meet with Lady Tran about this sad business.”
“How could Hana possibly have gone missing?” Jade asked.
Kang shrugged. “She must have left without permission. It disturbs Her Majesty greatly, since Hana was a lady-in-waiting in high favor. Hana went to bed with the other attendants one night, and the next morning she was gone from the Empress’s apartments.”
“How strange,” Jade murmured.
“I beg Your Highness not to trouble yourself with this. The Empress is doing everything to find Hana and bring her back safely.” The eunuch’s eyes held a disturbing intensity. “If danger is involved, the last thing Her Majesty would want is to put you at risk.”
A threat veiled as a warning, Jade thought.
They approached a grand stone bridge linking the Empress’s walkway to the main palace. Jade admired the railing as they walked. Images had been carved into the stone, representing each of Feng Lu’s kingdoms: oysters and pearls for Kamatsu, rice flowers for the Grasslands, desert roses for Surjalana, and horses for Dagovad. The central imagery, naturally, was of the Great Forest, with beautiful intertwining trees.
Every few feet along the bridge stood an immense granite statue of a fearsome warrior. Jade counted nine in total. “The warriors of the Dragon Guard,” she said, pleased and surprised to recognize them. “The legendary army of the gods. Amah raised me on those ancient texts.”
She peered back as they passed one of the stern warriors. The old stories maintained that the Dragon Guard could be summoned in times of great need—but only if the gods de
emed that the person who called for their aid was brave and true.
And though she knew it was just another one of Amah’s fables, somehow it comforted her to know that these warriors stood there, watching over the Imperial Palace.
They entered a magnificent hall flanked by Imperial soldiers in gold armor. It was quiet, save for the hushed voices of men standing outside a room off the corridor.
“Ministers awaiting the start of a council on taxes,” Kang murmured to Jade, leading the group through a series of elegant rooms, some smelling pleasantly of beeswax and others with lush carpets that emitted the scent of jasmine with every step. But Jade detected another heady, somehow familiar fragrance she could only describe as smokelike. “That is the Empress’s favored incense, which she orders from a merchant in the Sacred Grasslands. I will send some for your use.”
Jade nodded politely, but resolved to tuck away whatever he sent. At the monastery, they had used an incense that smelled like sandalwood in the first flush of spring. This was a cloying perfume that made her head swim, like waking from a restless sleep full of odd dreams.
They entered a room with a glorious map covering the far wall. It depicted Feng Lu, with its four mainland kingdoms and the island nation of Kamatsu in shimmering blue, green, and brown inks. The continent had been rendered in painstaking detail, with each tree of the Great Forest carefully outlined and the waves of the ocean embracing tiny ships.
“This was a birthday gift for your mother from His Majesty,” Kang explained. “The commission took seven years for a single artist to fulfill.”
“It is truly fit for a queen.” Somehow Jade felt sure the exquisite map had been a gift of love; no such present could have been bestowed unfeelingly. This revelation pained her all the more, considering the anger she had felt toward Emperor Jun her whole life. “Why is this not kept in the city of women where my mother lived?”
“Her Majesty felt its scale was more appropriate for the main palace chambers.”
But Jade suspected that Xifeng didn’t like being reminded of the woman she had supplanted. Even though she walks my mother’s halls, lives in my mother’s quarters, and rules over my mother’s people. Resentment flared in her breast. Xifeng might be Empress, but there was still an heir of the Dragon King living.
“Kang,” she said, struggling to find the right words, “I would like my mother’s map to be moved to my apartments. It would fit well in the sitting room.”
The eunuch regarded her for a moment. “That can be arranged, Your Highness, but I will have to seek Her Majesty’s approval first.”
“You know best, but I worry about bothering the Empress with such a trifling matter. She wouldn’t object to my harmless sentimentality, would she?” Jade asked innocently, though her heart raced at her own boldness. Kang bowed, but she knew Xifeng would likely find a way to refuse this request. Still, it felt satisfying to have stood her ground for this piece of her parents.
“I’ll give the order. It won’t be a minute.” He led the other eunuchs back through the doors, leaving Jade in front of the map.
She exhaled, welcoming the brief solitude, but soon realized it wasn’t quiet, for she heard low male voices somewhere very near. Strangely, they seemed to be coming from the painting of a kingfisher. Recognizing the lilting language of Kamatsu, Jade went closer and strained her ears, delighted she could understand the conversation thanks to Amah’s teachings.
“I’m certain she would have wanted us to do nothing, and so nothing we will do.”
“We cannot let this be swept away like the others.” The second man spoke with intensity lacing each clipped word. “I’m sorry to contradict you, Father, but I know Hana better.”
Jade had begun to move away, ashamed of eavesdropping, but froze at the name.
A woman spoke with a slight accent. “What do you propose, Koichi?”
“I don’t know, Auntie. But everyone knows she has something to do with all of the missing women, not just Hana. People are just too afraid to do or say anything about it.”
“The protesters in the square last week would disagree with you,” the older man spoke.
“The protesters in the square last week are dead.”
“Then that should be enough to prove my point. No good can come of speaking against the Empress. And you have no evidence whatsoever. There could be plausible reasons for each woman. Perhaps they grew tired of life in the palace . . .”
The young man uttered a low laugh of disbelief. “All twelve of them? And not all servants, but nobles and ladies-in-waiting, too. I apologize for my disrespect, Father, but Hana was family. Is family,” he corrected himself. “I will not stand by and—”
“Your Highness.” Kang materialized beside Jade, and she jumped. “I see you’ve found the secret passage I meant to show you. Lady Tran and her guests are in the room just beyond.”
“I heard them,” Jade admitted, her cheeks hot. She hated Kang’s appraising expression, as though he knew exactly what she had been doing. “Please show me through.”
He pressed his hands on either side of the kingfisher painting and pushed. Instead of another room, as Jade had expected, the wall opened into a short, enclosed corridor with a high ceiling. Their footsteps echoed as they walked, and noises carried freely from the adjacent room.
Jade wondered uneasily if a similar passage ran alongside her apartments. If so, it wouldn’t have been difficult at all for Kang to listen to her conversation with Gao.
“The palace is full of nooks built by your ancestors in case of attack. But with the improvement of protective fortifications over the years, the passages have become mere curiosities.” Kang pushed open another wall, which led into a sitting room decorated in shades of green. Three people sitting at a mahogany table rose, astonished, as Kang and Jade emerged from the wall of the room. The eunuch announced Jade’s arrival, then bowed low and left, closing the wall behind him. Perhaps, Jade thought, disturbed, he’s still standing there listening.
“I had no idea that was another entrance into this room,” Lady Tran said, beaming. “May I introduce Your Highness to former Ambassador Shiro and his son, Koichi?”
For the first time, Jade felt glad she had worn such elaborate clothing, for both Shiro and Koichi were meticulously well dressed in crisp navy silk. Both men stood just below her shoulder, and she realized she had never met anyone of short stature before.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Princess. I say again,” Shiro said, smiling, “because I saw you a long time ago, when you were just a little one.”
The former Ambassador spoke the language of the Great Forest without an accent. He had strong, handsome features, with gray hair sweeping back from deep-set eyes framed by a lattice of wrinkles. He observed her with kind, fatherly interest, and Jade warmed to him at once.
“I’m glad to see you as well, sir.”
He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Koichi was born the same winter you were.”
Jade exchanged shy smiles with the young man, who was the image of his good-looking father, but with jet-black hair and merrier eyes. If she hadn’t overheard their conversation, she would not have noticed the small lines of tension around his mouth. They disappeared, at any rate, when his face widened into a friendly grin.
“Father tells me Your Highness and I met and became fast friends when we were three,” he said. “It was at a banquet shortly before you left the palace. Your nursemaid told us a story.”
“I wish I could remember. What story was it?” Jade asked.
Koichi’s eyes crinkled. “Father says it was Empress Lihua’s favorite tale, the story of the thousand lanterns, which became one of my favorites as well. I was pleased to find it in a volume of Kamatsu folktales I got as a birthday gift, though the rendition was slightly different.”
“You like folktales, then?”
“I won
’t stop loving them, no matter how old I get. And I’m sure you feel the same.”
“I do.” Jade’s cheeks warmed at her small lie, but she enjoyed the way his eyes shone at her. He didn’t have to know how often she complained about being too old for Amah’s fables.
Two maids entered the room, bringing piping hot jasmine tea and sweet bean buns.
“I like to think that the story is true,” Shiro said, helping himself to a pastry. “What could be more romantic than a man hanging the lanterns for his true love? Especially since we don’t know where the real lights in the forest truly came from.”
“All we know is that they won’t budge.” Koichi turned to Jade. “You should have seen the soldiers hoisting each other up in the trees with fishing poles.”
Jade couldn’t help grinning as she pictured Xifeng’s stiff, dignified men struggling to remove the lanterns. “I heard the lights not only returned, but doubled in number,” she said, but as the others laughed, she remembered the secret passage and hastily changed the subject. “My birthday banquet is in a few days. Will I see you there, sir?”
Shiro shook his head. “Unfortunately my son and I have business, Your Highness, but everyone in the city has been talking of the event. You must be anticipating it a great deal.”
Too late, Jade remembered Kang saying that Shiro used to be Xifeng’s friend. If the friendship had ended, perhaps the former Ambassador and his son had not even been invited. “Truthfully, the idea of a celebration held in my honor is uncomfortable,” she admitted.
“You’ve had a simple upbringing, which is the best way to raise a child,” Shiro said. “When my wife died and I resigned from my position, I was generously offered a home in the palace. But a house in the forest suited my tastes better.”
“There’s something restful about living among the trees,” Jade agreed, thinking longingly of the shaded, green-dappled roof of the monastery in summer.
Koichi shook his head with playful disapproval. “What a pair you are. I can’t think of anything I want to do less than settle down to a quiet life before I’ve had a chance to travel. Give me a month in the desert, another in the mountains, and a year on the Sea of Seven Pearls, warring with pirate kings like in the old fairy stories.”