Empress of Bright Moon

by Weina Dai Randel

  I wanted to tell him I felt sorry for the Pure Lady and Sujie. I wanted to tell him he must punish the Empress, for I would not tolerate this kind of atrocity, and I would never allow her to harm me and my child so.

  He thrust his head under the water.

  I waited.

  When he raised his head, he wiped his face and turned around to lean against the tub. “My mother used to tell me: ‘Love those who serve you, and those who serve you will love you.’ I have always believed that.”

  “Your mother was wise,” I said, wiping off the beads of water on his chin.

  “But then why would I have a wife like that woman?” He closed his eyes.

  I sighed. “She punished the Pure Lady because she took her position in the workshops. She wants revenge.” And Sujie had to suffer because of his ballad and, perhaps, simply for being Pheasant’s son.

  “I cannot bring myself to look at her, Mei. I cannot even look at her.”

  “She was not your choice.” His father had chosen her, and Pheasant could not have known what kind of a woman she was.

  He pulled me toward him, and then, roughly, he took me.

  I could feel the muscles on his legs tighten and his skin burn under me. I held on to his shoulders as the hot steam rose and swelled before me. “What are you going to do, Pheasant?”

  He had to hold the Empress accountable; he had no choice. Or the court would have no peace and the Empress would terrorize everyone, including me.

  He gripped me tightly. “I am going to divorce her.” He thrusted, panting, his breath hot and thick.

  I stopped, looking into his eyes. An empress did not get divorced. She lived with the crown or died with it. “It will not be easy.”

  “I cannot stand her anymore. I want to divorce her. I must divorce her.” He turned me around. Fast and recklessly, he moved against me.

  I could feel him; I could feel his anger and his determination. All at once, my own need, my desperation, my fear, and my hope, erupted like the hot steam. I clutched the rim of the basin, the water lapping against my stomach, splattering my face.

  We collapsed together, the hot water splashing into my mouth. For a moment, we held on to each other in silence. Then, gazing at me, he brushed the stretched skin on my soft stomach, his eyes filled with determination. “You have to help me. You have to be on my side. The court must learn what kind of woman she is. She must be punished.”

  I nodded. I would start a war against the Empress then. I would expose her cruelty so she would never hurt anyone again. She would consider me her evil enemy after this day, but there would be no looking back. “I will help you,” I said.

  “Good. I shall divorce her.”

  I shook my head. We could not rush into this. The Empress had regained her power, and we had to tread carefully. I held his hand. “We need to have a strategy.”

  Pheasant leaned back. “I’m listening.”

  The Empress would be furious. She would do anything she could to destroy me. And there would be an upheaval, a violent one, if we decided to do this. We would turn the whole palace, and perhaps even the kingdom, upside down.

  But she had beaten me, she had killed my Hope, and she had tortured the Pure Lady and her son. It was the only way, the just way, to fight the unjust.

  I turned to Pheasant. “We will impeach her.”

  18

  Pheasant and I talked for a long time. Three extra aromatic candles had burnt down to the wick, filling the room with clouds of aroma. It was too late to wake Apricot and ask her to light another one, so we lay in the dark and discussed what actions we must take.

  Pheasant did not think it was necessary to have an open trial. He wanted to issue an edict to denounce the Empress immediately, stating how she had mistreated the Pure Lady and her son. But I thought Pheasant’s position in the court was not strong, and if he issued such an edict, the Empress would accuse Pheasant and me of framing her, and Pheasant and I would become the target of all the hateful arrows unleashed by the Empress and her aids. It would be too dangerous.

  An open trial would tell people that Pheasant and I had not framed the Empress. The witnesses and victims—poor Pure Lady and Sujie—would come to the court and expose the Empress’s crime, and she would not be able to deny it. It would also give people in the palace an opportunity to see what an atrocity the Empress had committed. Her supporters in the court would not be able to protect her, even if they tried.

  Pheasant decided to speak to Prince Ke as well as Fang Yi’ai, who had also become a reliable consultant. Perhaps they would offer some suggestions.

  “Come and see me tomorrow at the polo field, and I will tell you what I decide,” he said.

  I nodded. I would go visit the Pure Lady tomorrow to make sure she was in good care. I would also need to speak to the three Ladies and see if I could gain their support.

  The Empress would be impeached, and soon all the people in the palace would know her cruelty. Then Pheasant’s plan to divorce her would succeed.

  • • •

  The next morning, I rose before dawn, finished my morning routine of meditation, and fed Lion. After I saw Pheasant off to the Audience Hall, I instructed Apricot to take good care of my son and then left the garden with my four maids.

  When I arrived at the Quarters of the Pure Lotus, the sun had not risen yet, no one was walking in the compound, and the buildings were cloaked in a quiet, hazy veil. Several maids, their heads drooping, were asleep near the replica of Mount Hua. I shook my head when my maids attempted to wake them.

  I turned to the stone stairs in the courtyard and walked toward the Pure Lady’s chamber.

  Faint cries, like those of a cat, drifted through the air. They filled the open space in the courtyard, resonating in the morning fog and clinging to my skin. I turned around, searching.

  I did not see any cats. Confused, I walked toward the sound. A maid cleared her throat behind me, but I put up my finger to stop her, for the cries were changing, turning into a wave of layered, rich groans, and I could tell that they were not cats, and the noises were coming from the Noble Lady’s house.

  I walked down the corridor near the Lady’s house. The doors were shut, and the silk windowpane was thick. I stopped there, listening.

  I felt my cheeks flush. The groans had changed into a chorus of higher sounds, steady, pulsating, filled with vigor and pleasure. And there was no mistake. They were the sounds of the Noble Lady, Lady Virtue, and Lady Obedience. Together.

  I turned around and walked away as fast as I could. I wondered why I had never thought of it before. They were always together, the same outfits, the same makeup, and above all, the intimate closeness among them when they held arms… I should have suspected that. When I reviewed the scroll of The Dreams of Spring many years ago, it had contained pictures of women comforting each other. I did not believe them then, but after living in the palace for so many years, I knew it was only natural that this might happen.

  Fear could rope people into a tightening ring, bonding them like a cocoon, blinding them, reducing them to something they never intended to be—but loneliness…loneliness was more lethal and insidious. Like a wheel, it turned and turned as days went by, changing you, forcing you to find a footing somewhere, anywhere, and continued to spin even if you wished to stop.

  The maid cleared her throat behind me again. I wondered if they all knew the Ladies’ secret. Maybe Apricot knew it too but thought it would be inappropriate for her to tell me.

  I thought of Taizi and his affair with a male flutist, which led to his disgrace. When Emperor Taizong discovered them, the shamed Emperor had ordered Taizi to kill his lover. The scandal had cost Taizi his crown and his life. Pheasant would not be so cruel to his women, but all the same, this information could be used against the Ladies if someone else, especially the Empress, found out.

  I should
tell Princess Gaoyang. She could warn them to be cautious.

  “You heard nothing,” I said to my maids. “Do not tell anyone about this.”

  “Yes, Luminous Lady.” They lowered their heads. I was glad they did not glance up to meet my gaze, for certainly they would see something on my face that I did not wish them to know.

  “You swear it. And now go knock on the Pure Lady’s door.” I paused in the corridor, calming myself.

  The Pure Lady’s maid answered the door and led me behind the screen that shielded the lady’s canopied bed, which she shared with Sujie. She was jabbering something with her eyes closed. Sujie seemed sound asleep, his face pressed against her back.

  This must have been the first time in days they had had a restful night. I did not have the heart to wake them.

  When I turned around to leave, the three Ladies, in red sleeping tunics, loose trousers, and slippers, burst in. Their young faces looked dewy, fresh, and their long hair was undone.

  I hoped they did not know I was aware of their secret. I would not judge them, and I would not mention it either. But I would look out for them and protect them when they needed it.

  “Ladies.” I beckoned them to sit.“Zao an.” Good morning. “I hope I did not wake you.”

  “Zao an, Luminous Lady.” They bowed. “We came as fast as we could.”

  “I am grateful you came. I am certain that now you all know what happened to the Pure Lady and Sujie,” I said. “I would like to ask you all to help her, take care of her and her child.”

  “It is our privilege, Luminous Lady,” the Noble Lady said.

  “Did she eat anything last night?”

  The Noble Lady shook her head. “Nothing. She hasn’t spoken a word either. The same with Sujie. But we shall feed the Pure Lady some chicken broth with dumplings later. It’s her favorite food. Sujie will like that too.”

  “Good. I am pleased to hear that, Noble Lady. Now, sit down, Noble Lady, Lady Virtue, and Lady Obedience. I wish to tell you that the Emperor is very concerned about what the Empress has done to the Pure Lady and Sujie. I promise you she will be held accountable for her actions. Can I count on your help when you are needed?”

  When Pheasant agreed to the trial, they could testify. But for now, the trial must remain a secret, for if the Empress got wind of it, she would tear me apart.

  “Most certainly, Luminous Lady.” The Noble Lady held my hands. “I cannot tell you how grateful we are. We have been worried these past days. The Empress has been most…harsh with us. The court is not like what it was. I hope you can help us so the court will have peace again.” She pulled the other two’s hands, and together they stood and bowed to me, deeply. “You shall have our gratitude and any help you need.”

  Joy bloomed in my heart. They trusted me. “Of course, we shall have peace in the court. Soon. Very soon.”

  • • •

  After I left the Quarters, I went to the polo field.

  It was unusually empty today. Pheasant was playing with the General, Prince Ke, and Princess Gaoyang’s husband. At the far end of the field, there were only a few grooms and guards sauntering about. I hoped Pheasant had talked to his men and decided on the trial.

  Pheasant, in his yellow polo outfit, galloped to me when he saw me. His sleeves flying behind him, he swung off the horse with the easy grace that had dazzled me many years ago. He had lost all the weight he had gained during my exile, and he had been practicing mounted archery with Prince Ke, an excellent archer, for the past few months. Pheasant was a fast learner. After only a few months of training, he was able to shoot the target from five hundred paces while riding a horse, an impressive skill that had won even the General’s praise. “If my enemies dare to harass our border again,” Pheasant once told me, his face beaming with pride and confidence, “I shall lead my own army and kill them myself.”

  I smiled as he strode toward me. His yellow outfit shining in the sun, he looked strong and muscular, a powerful presence. His shoulders broad, his face resolute, Pheasant walked with strength that could not be defied. He looked more and more like his father, but unlike his father, who never smiled, Pheasant was beaming with kindness.

  “Zao an, Luminous Lady. I was waiting for you.” He grinned at me, handing off the reins to Prince Ke, who had dismounted with the others.

  “Zao an, Your Majesty. I hope I didn’t interrupt your game.” I smiled, bowing to him. He looked in a good mood.

  I greeted Prince Ke and Fang Yi’ai—ever a serious man, he looked grave—and then the General. He did not speak, only glanced at me and went to speak to some guards on the other side.

  “Luminous Lady, I’m pleased to tell you my brother and I had a good discussion,” Pheasant said. “It turns out he has a high regard for your proposal. And I have decided to follow your plan.” I smiled, pleased at Pheasant’s decision, and he continued. “Brother?”

  “My lady.” Prince Ke bowed to me. He looked healthier, but his figure was still as slim as a maiden’s. Since the Regent had withdrawn from the court, the prince had taken over the Regent’s duty of reviewing petitions these months. He had done well in the court, and many ministers liked his quiet manner and praised his ability. “Good day. I’m most honored the Emperor has decided to discuss such an important matter with us.”

  “Brother, no need for courtesy.” Pheasant waved his hand. “Why don’t you tell Luminous Lady what we have discussed?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Luminous Lady.” Prince Ke’s face reddened for a moment. Ever a humble man, he still had a tendency to grow nervous when Pheasant showered attention on him before a crowd. “I find the revelation of the Empress’s atrocity most stunning. I am appalled. It is unimaginable that she would chain a high-ranking Lady and the prince in a kennel with wolves. And I do agree that a trial is a just way for the Empress. I shall do my best to set it up, and I do believe I share the same opinion with Minister Fang.” He turned to the princess’s husband, who nodded seriously.

  “Good.” I was relieved. “When do you plan to draft the impeachment?”

  “I shall have the statement ready tomorrow, if Luminous Lady wishes.”

  “And the date of the trial?”

  “As soon as possible.” He hesitated. “Whenever Luminous Lady desires.”

  “The matter is most urgent, but it must not be hurried either—”

  “In two days. Let’s have the trial in two days. I don’t see why we must delay this.” Pheasant waved his hand. “I shall order the Pure Lady and Sujie to come to the Audience Hall. I shall also order the Empress to be present at the hall, where she will listen to their testimony. She can’t deny that.”

  “The three Ladies may wish to give their accounts as well,” I added.

  “Very good. They shall be summoned.”

  “There is only one thing, and I beg Luminous Lady’s attention,” Prince Ke said, looking apprehensive, his hand supporting his chin.

  “What is it?” Pheasant asked.

  “This trial of the Empress is a grave matter that has seen no precedence in our kingdom. I fear we may need to speak to the Regent and ask his opinion. It is part of protocol, after all.”

  “Ah.” I nodded. Prince Ke was right about the protocol, but I wondered what the Regent would think of the Empress’s trial. He did not like the Empress. Would he be glad to see her impeached?

  “As you know, the Regent must be notified about the important matters that happen in the court.” Prince Ke grimaced. He had never liked the Regent, who had banished him, but the prince never spoke anything ill of the Regent or slighted him in any way.

  “I shall speak to him,” Pheasant said. “He is most reasonable. He will certainly agree with us. I have no doubt about that.” He patted my shoulder.

  “Will you arrange a meeting with him tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Brother, will you see to that?” When t
he prince nodded, Pheasant smiled. “Now, would anyone care to play some polo before my brother goes to his writing table?”

  “I would!” a clear voice called out, and the sound of hooves beating on the ground rang behind me.

  I wanted to smile. Of course. Princess Gaoyang. “Come here, Gaoyang.” I beckoned at her. I had not seen her yet today, and I missed her. I wanted to tell her what Pheasant and I had discussed last night. She would be delighted to hear we had decided to impeach the Empress. “I wish to speak to you.”

  “What?” Her horse reared up, and she rose upright, pulling the reins. She was so slim. I envied her. “I went to your chamber, Luminous Lady. You were not there. Your maids said you went to the Quarters of the Pure Lotus. Why did you go there without me?”

  “Well—”

  “You were supposed to wait for me. After what happened to the Pure Lady and Sujie, you should know the mad cow will not leave you alone.”

  Her face was moist, and her long, braided hair stuck to her neck. She looked as though she had run all the way here. “Oh, Gaoyang,” I said happily, “were you worried about me?”

  “Worried? Of course not.”

  Liar. “Well. You found me here, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged, ready to kick the horse and gallop off.

  “Come here. You cannot play with the men. Pheasant won’t let you.”

  “Pheasant cannot stop me.” She tilted her head, looking petulant again.

  I sighed. “Anyway, it’s too dangerous. Those men—come back, come back, Gaoyang!”

  She had already galloped across the field. Holding her mallet high above her head, she struck at Prince Ke’s mallet, knocking it to the side, and stole the scarlet ball just before Pheasant hit it.

  I gasped. A woman should never play so aggressively. And among the men! But Princess Gaoyang was not an ordinary woman, and she would not be bound by rules. I envied her. I wished I could play polo; I wished I could play polo like her. Perhaps I should join her.