by Julie C. Dao
Akira, a voice whispered.
Yes, if somehow her plan for Wei failed, she might exploit Akira as a link to the palace. Surely a friend of the Imperial physician would rise high in the royal circles.
There were so many paths, so many open doors—Xifeng had only to be bold, to be alert. And then she and Wei would both be on the inside, their fates intertwined as the cards predicted.
There are no coincidences, Guma always said. Everything that happens is meant to.
Xifeng listened for the voice again, but it said no more—nor did the creature move within. It had awoken during her conversation with the officer, when she thought all hope had been lost for Wei. She had roused it . . . or perhaps—thinking of the bold words she’d spoken—it had roused her. For once, her horror was tempered with curiosity.
Could it be possible that the creature had her interests at heart? If she dared embrace it, would it come and go—would it help her at her will? The idea both intrigued and terrified her.
A warm rain began to fall, lightly at first and then in sheets, and Hideki held the umbrella over their heads. The soldiers didn’t seem to notice it at all as they continued training, though the senior officers had also opened umbrellas of their own.
“We should go,” Hideki said. “It might be dark by the time they’ve finished training, and I’m suffering for a drink.”
They made their way back down the avenue, passing people who ran by with jackets over their heads. Hideki ducked into one of the teahouses to get his drink, so Xifeng continued on back to Akira’s house alone. She shook out the umbrella on the front step and entered.
Shiro and Akira were still talking in the pallet room, as though they hadn’t moved since the others left. Shiro was sitting up with a clean bandage on his shoulder and healthy color in his cheeks. So deep in conversation were they that neither of them noticed Xifeng watching from the doorway. The topic seemed innocent enough—they spoke of the merchant ships that sailed between Kamatsu and the mainland—but she was more interested in the way the dwarf leaned toward Akira, and the way the physician’s cheeks turned pink as she responded to him.
The woman’s earlier jealousy had not been that of a physician for her charge, but another kind entirely.
Xifeng flushed, knowing she was witnessing a private moment, but her feet seemed locked in place. This is how love begins, she thought wistfully. The shy meeting of eyes, the exchanged smiles, the tentative brush of hands. A kindling grew in her heart that had nothing to do with the creature within; it was a want, a longing as palpable as hunger for food.
She couldn’t recall how it had happened with her and Wei. It seemed like he had been there forever, a constant in her life, as permanent as the seasons. And though she loved him, she had always maintained a distance. That was what living up to Guma’s fortune meant—guarding herself from falling completely, even when she desperately wanted to. But watching Shiro and Akira made the yearning rise inside her like chilled hands stretching toward a flame.
What would it be like to fall together?
She backed away, feeling cold and alone and hoping they wouldn’t see her. But her footsteps broke the spell. Instinctively, Shiro and Akira moved farther apart. The physician excused herself and left the room, eyes still shining, and Xifeng took her place beside Shiro’s pallet.
“Akira tells me you plan to enter the palace,” he said, folding his hands over his stomach. “I won’t warn you off like Hideki has, but I hope you’ve given it careful consideration. Once inside a king’s court, it’s very difficult to come back out again.”
“You must know that well.” The candlelight lit the elegant lines of Shiro’s face. He seemed too young, Xifeng thought, to wear the sadness she saw on his features.
“My father was our king’s chief adviser. I grew up in the highest circles of the court and married a woman of even greater rank. A daughter of the king.”
“Is she the princess you spoke of before, who wore pearls in her hair?”
“That was her. One of many unimportant daughters the king had to marry off. A spare to give away to a useless being.” He gestured to himself as he would to a beast and not a man merely small in stature. “He did it to please my father, who was keen to be connected to the royal family and even keener to get rid of me. My wife and I moved to a small house in the country.”
Xifeng watched the play of emotions on his handsome face. “What happened?”
“She killed herself. She preferred death to being married to someone like me.”
The sorrow and anger in his voice moved her deeply. “You are good and honorable, and you deserve a better family than the one you were given.”
Shiro raised his beautiful, sad eyes to hers. “Some of us must rely on friends to see the best within us. That is how we find balance.” He made an effort to smile as he changed the subject. “And balance is what you need to succeed at court . . . like that apothecary’s scale you so aptly mentioned.”
“Balance?”
“The balance between your ambition and your soul. Between being strong and being kind, which some perceive as weakness.”
“It must be like a game,” Xifeng ventured. “Maintaining relations at court and overseas. Allowing other kings to believe they have power when you hold all the cards.”
He tipped his head, observing her. “Do you relish such a life?”
She evaded the question. “I accept whatever the gods bestow upon me, as we all must.” Something in his gentle manner made Xifeng want to tell him everything she could not say to Wei. “There are things I hate to admit about myself. I’m not the kind of person I want to be . . . the person my mother must have hoped I’d be.”
“We all have our battles to fight, but we can choose to overcome them. I see how much you love Wei, though you try to hide it. Why is that?”
“I’m afraid. My mother loved my father so much, it killed her when he left. Guma wanted to protect me, to avoid my giving someone that much power over me. She wanted me to forge my own path, free of any shackles.” Except the ones she put on me herself. “Perhaps it would be better for him to take his road and I, mine.”
“But you and Wei clearly love each other. Such a love wouldn’t be a risk, would it?”
She shuddered. “I might lose him, and what would happen to me then?”
“Perhaps your mother was never happier than when she had your father. Isn’t it better to give up a fraction of your freedom to gain tenfold in happiness, even for a short time?”
Though Xifeng’s hungry heart lurched at his words, she felt something—like a small, determined hand—tugging it back into place. And when she left to let him rest, Shiro’s question haunted her all the way upstairs.
Wei joined the soldiers every morning for the rest of the week. On the seventh day of their stay with Akira, he announced that the Commander had requested his presence once more.
“He has a proposition for me,” he said casually, though his eyes shone and he hadn’t eaten a bite of his porridge. “I’ll be meeting the craftsman who makes their weaponry.”
Xifeng squeezed his hand, even as her heart sank. A craftsman, after she had fought to win the officers’ support of him. “We can all guess what sort of proposition he’ll make. But I thought you’d be asked to join the army, at least.”
“The other officers overrode the Commander's decision,” Wei explained, his face falling a bit. “They say they have too many swordsmen already, but I’ll take whatever they give me. I don’t want to ask for more and risk losing the offer.”
Shiro’s eyes widened. “Did you say the Commander?”
Wei nodded. “He’s young, only my age, but brilliant. Xifeng and Hideki met him the first day, too. He said I was a natural-born swordmaker.”
“But the Commander of the Army is the Emperor’s eldest stepson. That’s the Crown Prince himself who has taken an inter
est in you. You didn’t know?” Shiro and Akira burst out laughing at the expression on Wei’s face.
Xifeng ignored them and sat back in her chair, hard. The Emperor’s stepson, the heir to the throne of the Great Forest. That explained his youth but evident superiority over his fellow officers. Her cheeks warmed when she remembered him laughing good-naturedly at her blunder.
“This is a sign from the Dragon Lords themselves,” she murmured to Wei, who looked at her with fierce joy. “It’s a testament to your hard work.”
“Why don’t we all go and support Wei?” Hideki asked. “Is Shiro well enough, Akira?”
“Please say yes.” Shiro clasped his hands in mock entreaty. “I’m growing fat from sitting around with nothing to do but admire your pretty face.”
Akira turned bright red. “I can’t go, so I entrust your care to everyone else. If you come home with that wound open again, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
“I’ll make that smelly paste for him,” Wei offered, and they all erupted into laughter.
Later that morning, they found the soldiers already running and fencing on the field. The Crown Prince, as they now knew him, approached when he spotted Wei. He was too soft featured to be handsome, but the pleasure in his greeting brightened his face. They all bowed low to him, and he nodded at each as they were introduced.
“Ambassador Shiro, it’s an honor. I look forward to seeing you in the palace,” he said, then smiled at Xifeng. “So you’ve brought your exquisite wife and loyal messenger again, Wei.”
“I am Wei’s loyal messenger, Your Imperial Highness,” Xifeng confirmed.
“But not his wife?” the Crown Prince asked, noting the omission. He raised an eyebrow at Wei, who shifted his feet, and surveyed her with heightened interest.
Xifeng pounced upon his curiosity. A maiden was more appealing than a matron, and she wanted very much to appeal to this stepson of the Emperor. “Not his wife,” she agreed, ignoring Hideki’s appalled expression. “I traveled with Ambassador Shiro as my chaperone. My aunt was unwell and charged him with the task of protecting my virtue.” The men stilled at this blatant lie.
“Forgive my mistake.”
“There is no forgiveness needed, Your Highness, except from yourself. I did not know you the first time we met and spoke too boldly.”
He made a gracious gesture. “Truth cannot be spoken too boldly. What you said about Wei’s talents was true. He has a gift and I am in a position to offer him employment.”
The tension eased a bit as Hideki and Shiro murmured their congratulations and Wei bent his head in gratitude, his sharp-featured face so full of emotion that Xifeng longed to take his hand. But she knew he wouldn’t thank her for it, not in front of the Commander of the Army. She settled for bowing to the Crown Prince in thanks, though she felt a crackling beneath her heart. This was not what Wei truly wanted. He would resign himself to sword-making because it was safe, and it was what he knew and would help him provide for her.
Xifeng summoned her courage. “If I may again speak boldly, Your Highness, you should know Wei’s greatest wish is to join the Emperor’s army. Craftsmanship is his trade, one he will happily accept from your generosity. But to be a warrior, a swordsman, is his passion . . . one I hope you’ll consider fulfilling.” She avoided Wei’s eyes, knowing what she would see: displeasure that she’d spoken for him, and suspicion that she’d done so to put off marrying him.
The Crown Prince gazed at her in silence.
“I understand your fellow officers believe the ranks to be full, but I entreat you to make an exception on Wei’s behalf. You will not regret it, Your Highness, the way you will regret wasting his true talent.” She kept her eyes respectfully on the field over his shoulder, praying she hadn’t gone too far, and noticed a group of monks gathering to watch the training. One of them glanced briefly in her direction and she shivered, remembering the monk in the mirror.
“You speak well, Xifeng,” the prince said at last. “And speaking on behalf of a friend is to be commended. What you say about Wei’s talent is true. I did not know he felt so strongly about joining the army, as he seemed content to accept the role of craftsman.” He glanced at Wei, who flushed slightly. “I will grant your request, if that’s what he wants. I can persuade the others to recruit him on a trial basis. If he proves himself, then he shall be made a full soldier.”
Xifeng forgot all about respect as she looked at the prince full in the face, breath catching in her throat. Had he truly spoken those words?
Wei looked as stunned as though the Commander had offered him his own job. “It is what I want, Y-Your Highness,” he stammered.
The Crown Prince smiled. “Then it’s settled. Come with me.”
Xifeng watched them go, cheeks still aflame at her own daring. It was as though the heavens had suddenly opened. She didn’t think she would be surprised, just then, if the gods themselves appeared on the field before her. “Did I persuade a prince to give Wei a better position?” she asked, hands on either side of her hot face. “And did he agree instead of ordering my execution?”
Shiro and Hideki laughed.
“I knew you had spirit, but I didn’t know how much,” the dwarf said.
“I was wrong when I warned you about court. I think you’ll be the one everyone else should watch out for,” Hideki added, turning to Shiro. “She hasn’t even reached the palace and she’s already ordering royalty about.”
Xifeng felt clammy with nervous sweat. “It was worth taking a chance. I knew he would have resigned himself to whatever the prince gave him and never asked for more.”
“A soldier’s salary won’t make anyone rich, but there’s comfort and security, no matter which banner he’ll be placed under. Now you can marry and truly be man and wife.” Hideki hummed as he strolled away down the field, tracking Wei’s progress like a proud older brother.
Shiro eyed Xifeng solemnly. “Should I assume that what you did just now means you’ve made up your mind? About the matter we discussed?”
She averted her eyes from the sorrow in his face that was not for her. “I can’t trap myself like that. There are things I know about my future . . . things I can’t tell Wei. Not yet.”
“The future may yet be changed. Consider that before you throw away a certainty for a possibility.” Shiro turned and walked after Hideki.
Xifeng twisted her hands together, watching Wei on the field through a film of tears. I am destined for another, she imagined telling him. I can never be yours, for you cannot take me where I seek to go.
The cards insisted Wei would always be a part of her fate, in spite of the Empress prophecy. Perhaps they had known all along that he would be tied to her through pain and hopelessness, kept forever at arm’s length—that he would be her ultimate sacrifice to achieve the destiny they foresaw.
She closed her eyes and wished fervently that she had never met him.
The dreaded subject came up that night.
“I’m glad Shiro has healed enough to go to the palace, but Akira didn’t seem very happy,” Xifeng remarked. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
“He will, if he truly wants her.” Wei wore an expression she feared, knowing what it meant. “And now I’ll tell you what I truly want. What I’ve wanted since I first met you.”
“You were nine when we met,” she said, smiling, though dread rose in her throat like acid.
“No jokes this time, Xifeng,” he said gruffly. “No excuses. I want you to be my wife. I can’t ask you in a grand, poetic way. I haven’t had a fine education like Shiro. But I’ve loved you for ten years, and there’s no one to stop us now.”
She wanted to weep, not because of the tenderness in his eyes, but because she loved him too and could not let herself admit it. If she gave in, if she yielded her heart and her life to his keeping, she would be no better than her mother. And now the tengaru queen h
ad confirmed her destiny; she had as good as promised that Wei would be Xifeng’s sacrifice. You are meant for much, much more, came a whisper from deep within, which did nothing to comfort her.
“You impressed His Highness today,” Wei went on. “He said you spoke as well as any lady and you’re every bit as beautiful. He wanted to ask you to join the Empress’s attendants, since you’re still unmarried. He’s certain his mother would like you.”
Her mouth went dry. She grasped the table edge, for her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. She had dared to seize her fortune and Wei’s, and the heavens had rewarded her. “He said that?” she whispered, heart drumming with fierce triumph.
“Yes, but you don’t need to do that anymore,” he said earnestly. “Why slave for the Empress when you could be the mistress of our home? Every soldier gets a bit of land and a small income. I won’t have riches, Xifeng, but I never wanted them. I want you.”
She leaned her head against him, knowing he liked her best when she was gentle and quiet, but inside, she felt like screaming. She felt like raking her nails on the walls until her hands bled to make him understand.
“You mean everything to me,” she said, and in her voice he could already hear her refusal. He pulled away, his face darkening. “I care more for you than I do for anyone else.”
“Then why?” he demanded. “Why do you keep refusing me?”
“I’m not refusing you. I have never refused you.”
“You always find a reason to delay. That’s the same thing.” He backed away from her pleading hands. “If you truly loved me, you would’ve agreed years ago. So what are you doing? Waiting for someone better to come along? Is that it?” His voice grew louder with each question. He took in her silent, downcast face. “That is it. You’re saving yourself for someone else.”
“Stop it, Wei.”
A vein throbbed in his neck. “Who? Who is he?”