by Julie C. Dao
Too late, she thought, remembering the realization in Lady Sun’s eyes when the guards had taken her away to be searched. Still, she said forcefully, “She ought to be careful of me. She stirred up trouble first, and Guma always said what one brings about will return.” She immediately regretted mentioning her aunt as Wei sat up.
“Lady Sun has given the Emperor a son, the first and only of his blood. The child is in the line of succession behind the three princes. Whether or not she truly is untouchable, that fact gives her a great deal of power.” He frowned at her. “What has that Guma of yours advised you to do? I hope she wasn’t so unwise as to encourage you to plot against a consort.”
Xifeng gave a growl of frustration. “You always assume I’m some flighty, stupid creature of my aunt’s, and not a separate, thinking being of my own.”
“She was the one who wanted you to come to court . . . but to accomplish what, exactly?” he persisted.
She sat up and drew her robe more tightly around her shoulders. They were close, too close to the truth, and if Wei probed further, he would find the answer she’d tried so hard to hide from him. “Have you ever considered that I wanted to come here? That I am capable of making my own decisions? After all this time,” she said bitterly, “you still believe I’m naïve and helpless.” He tried to put his arms around her, but she pulled away. “If we’re going to fight every time we’re together, we shouldn’t meet anymore.”
“Don’t say that, Xifeng,” he begged. “I’m sorry. I only want you to be free of her. She has a hold on you I can’t understand.”
“She’s my aunt. She’s my family. You’re determined to hate her until the end.” It both touched and irritated her, his insistence on blaming Guma for every bad thought she had and every choice she made. But he had a point. Through the haze of incense, the waterfall had shown visions of Guma’s past that complicated the stories she’d told Xifeng. There were too many mysteries, too many unanswered questions. “Everything I do is my own choice. For us.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I don’t mean to upset you. Our time is so short, so precious. Please don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not. But I want you to have faith in me.” She relented, holding his trusting face in her hands. He was still a boy, after all, who would rather imagine the light even when darkness stared him in the eyes.
It was as the Emperor had said: some sought peace without understanding its costs. Thinking of Emperor Jun’s charming humor and calm voice while in Wei’s arms was so unsettling, Xifeng hid her face in his chest. I am destined for another, she wanted to tell him, and he is the reason I can’t give you my whole heart.
“I wish I could walk you back. I don’t want to leave you just yet.”
He pulled back and looked at her wistfully, as though she were already gone. “The soldiers would want to know where you came from.”
“I’ll see you again soon. My friend will help us.”
“Do you promise?”
She answered him with her lips. They stood and held on to each other, breaking apart reluctantly when footsteps sounded once more on the palace walkway.
And then it was back through the fragrant tangle of the Imperial gardens, the moon still shining overhead as she kissed Wei goodbye and faithful Kang opened the door for her.
If I have to see one more performance or parade, I’ll leave the palace and join a monastery.” Kang flopped melodramatically onto the bench, fanning himself. “Is the festival over yet?”
Xifeng laughed. “I don’t mind the spectacle, but I’m only a simple peasant girl who could never have imagined such things. Didn’t you feel like a god looking down at the people?”
For the past three mornings, as part of the Empress’s retinue, they had joined the Imperial couple on the balcony jutting out over the palace gates, overlooking the city. The crowds had cheered to see them, and it had been magical, just for a moment, to imagine the raucous applause had been for her.
It had been her first taste of what it might be like to be Empress.
“I suppose you’re right,” Kang conceded. “I must be tired from the performance. Thank the gods Their Majesties seemed to enjoy it. We’ve only been rehearsing an entire year.” He had taken part in a dramatic stage play the night before, put on by the eunuchs each festival.
“Your acting was my favorite part of this week.”
He wagged a finger at her. “I told you, flattery will win my heart every time.”
She grinned, enjoying the evening breeze that blew strands of her hair across her face.
Seeing the city come alive had a way of putting one in a brilliant mood. That morning, the performers had worn costumes representing each kingdom, accompanied by men beating enormous drums that had to be pulled on chariots. Acrobats had flipped and twirled through the air as the dragon dance began: five serpents of silk, metal, and glass, each as long as a city block, concealing twenty dancers who shook the shimmering coils in time to the thundering drumbeat.
“If we could go into the city tonight, I’m sure that would be your favorite part.” Kang scowled at a group of dignified eunuchs who walked by without acknowledging him. “Normally, each district closes at sundown, but the Emperor extends curfew on the last night of the festival. I’m told the marketplace and food stalls are a sight to behold.”
“I can’t go, but you can.”
“Not without permission from them.” He glared at the eunuchs’ retreating backs. “Anyway, if they let me out, they probably won’t let me back in. To amuse themselves.”
“Have they been treating you worse than usual?”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. The more you and I are seen together, the more they isolate themselves from me to curry Lady Sun’s favor. They’re afraid of her. And they won’t have anything to do with anyone who challenges them or might hurt their prestige. But I will never turn my back on you, my one true friend.”
Xifeng gripped his hand warmly. “Nor I you, sweet Kang. I’m forever indebted to you. The least I can do is speak to the Empress on your behalf. I’m sure she’ll help us.”
“You’re that certain of her good favor?”
“Trust me. Let me do this for you, as thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
But Xifeng couldn’t speak to Her Majesty that night, as the household was in a flurry of preparation for the final banquet. And they’d had another invitation besides: the Emperor had requested that his wife be present in the reception hall before supper. The ladies took special care in dressing and flocked after the Empress in her resplendent red-and-gold silks.
The princes and concubines were already waiting when they arrived. Xifeng recognized the gold, crescent-shaped comb Lady Sun wore as the one she’d been accused of stealing. The woman’s resentful eyes found her at once, and her hand tightened on the shoulder of her little boy. Her gaze promised revenge for the humiliation brought upon her, and though Xifeng’s pulse picked up, she kept her expression neutral.
Emperor Jun swept in and embraced his wife, sparing no glance for her ladies, and Xifeng felt something strangely like disappointment. “I’ve come to give you your birthday present, my dear one. I commissioned it five years ago and the artist has delivered it at last.”
The Empress’s eyes sparkled at him. “You are the most generous of men, husband.”
One wall of the room had been covered with a heavy cloth. On His Majesty’s command, four eunuchs tugged it down to reveal the map of Feng Lu that had been hidden in Lady Sun’s apartments, and a murmur of appreciation arose.
Lady Sun glowered at the top of her child’s head, her hand like a claw on his shoulder. For someone who had triumphed and had been defended by the Emperor himself, she seemed sullen, subdued. Xifeng noticed His Majesty didn’t look once at the concubine. It made her wonder why, of all places in the palace, the Emperor had chosen to hide the gift in Lady Sun’s quarters
for so long. It seemed cruel, like he was taunting her. Xifeng turned her eyes to the Emperor just in time to see him look away from her, and her heart gave an odd little lurch.
“It’s a splendid gift,” the Empress was saying, “and I will treasure it always, my love.”
The Emperor caressed her cheek, and immediately Lady Sun pushed her child toward the map. The boy stared up at it with round, intelligent eyes, and asked a question in his childish babble. Xifeng made out the words sea monsters and couldn’t help chuckling with the others.
“Do you see how clever your son is, Your Majesty?” Lady Sun asked loudly. “Already he knows where the kingdom of Kamatsu lies.”
Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances and the Crown Prince raised his eyebrows. Xifeng noticed he had positioned himself squarely between his mother and Lady Sun.
She’s not so different from Lady Meng after all, Xifeng realized as the concubine looked pleadingly at His Majesty. All of her talk about playing the game of men had been nothing more than a cover for her fear and desperation.
“I’ve been assured this is a fitting gift for you,” the Emperor told his wife, as though no one had spoken. “It suits you better than jewels, as a woman of thought and intelligence.”
Red faced and without a word, Lady Sun seized her child and began to leave without permission. It was clear to all that she had somehow displeased the Emperor in private.
Xifeng kept her eyes down, satisfied that her plan had at least led to this small victory.
The Emperor continued speaking to his wife, pointedly ignoring Lady Sun’s departure. “The Crown Prince himself agreed with me, and one of your ladies as well. Xifeng, I believe, is her name.”
She froze as the Emperor’s eyes found her in the crowd. Everyone in the room turned to her, even Lady Sun, who stopped in her tracks, her face drained of color.
“Come forward, if you please.”
The room was still as Xifeng obeyed. She caught a glimpse of Lady Meng muttering to someone and Master Yu’s lips turning downward in disgust as she bowed to the Imperial couple. When she straightened, the Empress was staring at her like she had never truly seen her before.
Her Majesty’s jaw worked, and beneath her silken sleeves, her clasped hands were white. “I wasn’t aware you knew of my birthday gift, Xifeng. How . . . kind of you to keep it a surprise.”
Her voice was gentle as ever, but Xifeng flinched inwardly as though she had shouted. She had spoken to the Emperor only twice, and they had never said or done anything remotely close to betraying the Empress, but still her gut twisted beneath the older woman’s stare. It was so different from the way she’d looked when she had thanked Xifeng for caring about her.
Her end is your beginning . . .
“Xifeng happened upon the map in the course of her duties,” the Emperor said carelessly. “I echo her poetic words to you, my dear one. For your birthday, I give you the world.”
“She is quite the poet.” The Empress still wore her strange, disconcerted expression. “She recited a beautiful verse about motherhood when we first met.”
Xifeng flushed as she met Emperor Jun’s gaze. There was interest in those handsome eyes, and not a small degree of confidence. Clearly, he thought her certain to fall if he pursued her; he believed he had as good as won her already. She bristled at his arrogant presumption that she was like a maid he could tumble after eyeing her once. I am not one of them.
She would not be another plaything to frolic with in a tub of rose petals, only to be flung aside when he got tired of her. She would be his Empress, his equal, and nothing less. She steeled herself against those eyes, which regarded her with even more interest.
“Would you do us the honor of reciting another verse for the Empress’s birthday?”
She took a deep breath and focused only on the Empress. “It would be my honor.”
The Empress’s eyes softened a bit.
Perhaps because it was the celebration of the full moon, Xifeng found herself reciting the lines she had found in Guma’s mysterious volume of poetry:
The moon shines down upon us, beloved
The water a vast and eternal mirror
A voice whispers from every tender branch
Turn your face from the world’s apple-blossom fragility
And embrace this boundless night
The Emperor and Empress led the room in polite applause. Xifeng retreated among the ladies, exhaling when the attention turned from her once more. But she felt their awareness still, especially Lady Sun, who stood watching her for a long moment before leaving at last.
All through the celebratory birthday banquet and the musical performance that followed, Xifeng’s skin prickled with foreboding. She noted the Emperor and Lady Sun were both absent.
“She’s exploding at His Majesty in private again,” Kang informed her. “All the eunuchs are talking of it. She’s been screaming in her apartments, threatening to leave him.”
Xifeng waved her hand dismissively. “That’s nothing new.”
“She accused him of ignoring their son to chase after a ‘farm girl’s skirts.’ Be on your guard. She’s angrier and more desperate than anyone has ever seen her, and you are her target.”
And in spite of herself, Xifeng felt gooseflesh emerging on her arms. The concubine would take her revenge, and Xifeng could either wait . . . or take action first.
The next morning, a eunuch approached their table and interrupted their meal. He looked vaguely familiar to Xifeng. “Lady Sun wishes to see you in her apartments,” he told her.
Xifeng exchanged glances with Kang. That was where she knew him from—he was one of the guards stationed in the concubine’s living quarters. “What could she possibly want with me?” she asked, arching a brow calmly though her pulse picked up.
“She and Lady Meng wish to speak to you.”
Lady Meng? Xifeng hadn’t known they were friends. In fact, it seemed illogical. In spite of her wariness, Xifeng felt curious. “I’ll go as long as Kang accompanies me.”
“Lady Sun wishes him to wait outside the door.”
Kang gave the other eunuch a contemptuous once-over. “I serve Madam Xifeng, and I will go where it pleases her.”
Instead of arguing, the eunuch bowed and turned to lead them out of the hall.
“See how powerful you’ve become?” Kang whispered as they followed him. “Everyone knows of the Emperor and Empress’s regard for you, and they respect me by association.”
“You did right to befriend me,” she said, only partly joking. “But it’s all right. I want to enter alone, to show Lady Sun I’m not intimidated by her.”
She clasped her hands tightly as they climbed up to the concubine’s apartments. Lady Meng was harmless, but whatever Lady Sun had planned would be cruel and destructive—of that Xifeng felt certain. She had to be prepared for anything.
Lady Sun was lounging in her main room, draped over a nest of red and gold brocade pillows, while Lady Meng paced restlessly and froze like a rabbit when Xifeng came in. Xifeng didn’t bother to bow, but she bit her tongue. She had been invited for a reason, and she would not say anything they might use against her. Lady Sun examined her fingernails, content to let her wait, but Lady Meng was not so patient. The gossips said she was desperate, and from the frantic gleam of her eyes, Xifeng might well believe it.
“How long have you and the Crown Prince been lovers?” she snarled. Her slurring rural accent intensified with her anger. “Don’t play the innocent with me. I saw him give you a love letter.”
Caught off guard, Xifeng struggled to hide her astonishment. She glanced at Lady Sun, who continued studying her nails with a little smile. “The message was not from His Highness, and it was certainly not a love letter.”
“I don’t believe you.” Lady Meng looked so pale, she seemed about to faint. “I want to see it with
my own eyes.”
“It was a private note and I have disposed of it.” The memory of Wei’s words disappearing into smoke still stung, but Xifeng thanked the gods she’d had the foresight to burn them. “I swear to you, my lady, the Crown Prince was only delivering my friend’s message to me.”
The young concubine leapt at Xifeng, standing so close, their noses nearly touched.
“What friend of yours could ask favors of His Highness?” Lady Meng demanded, and on her breath Xifeng smelled strong rice wine.
“Ambassador Shiro of Kamatsu.” Xifeng did not pull away, though she would have gladly done so at the girl’s sour breath. “He was my guardian on my journey through the Great Forest and wished to assess my well-being. He cannot visit me here, as you know.”
Behind them, Lady Sun laughed quietly.
“Ask anyone. His Highness has no interest in me, my lady,” Xifeng said as gently as she could. She pitied the poor girl, with her thick village accent and her steadfast unhappiness. “Ask the Crown Prince himself. He was merely doing the ambassador and me a kindness.”
The concubine gaped at her, face shaded with doubt. “Then why was he staring at you during the Moon Festival?”
“If you remember, he was upset with someone he believed wished his mother harm.” Xifeng locked eyes with Lady Sun. “I imagine he was looking off into space, wondering what sort of monster would want to hurt her.”
Lady Meng chewed on her lower lip, turning to the older concubine. “You lied to me. You told me you had read the prince’s love letter to her. You said he wanted to run away with her!”
“You are so quick to believe everything you hear, aren’t you?” Lady Sun draped an arm over the back of her chair. “So silly, so empty-headed. But you do have your uses.”
“You promised to help me. You said you’d find a way for me to meet the prince in secret.”
Xifeng regarded the girl’s crestfallen face, vexed and yet darkly amused by Lady Sun’s catty, underhanded dealings. The woman had not only used this girl as an informant, but also exploited her secret love and tormented her for pure pleasure.