Because You Love to Hate Me(52)
Nowhere was safe.
Mei Feng knew that if she kept her handmaids close at all times, they could be magically lured away. She knew that if she locked herself in her bedchamber, or even the stone cellar beneath the manor’s large kitchen, Hai Xin would still find her. She had no inkling who she was up against, except that he was no ordinary man.
Lighting incense each morning, she prayed to the Goddess of Purity for strength and safety. The goddess was known as the virgin and symbolized wisdom and peace. Girls often sought her guidance in matters of the heart and marriage, and prayed to her for protection. Mei Feng beseeched to be shown some way to escape or defeat Hai Xin. She was certain he was some monster or demon disguised as a handsome young man. She spoke to no one about her troubles.
Four days after Hai Xin had come to her in the bedchamber, an excited Orchid dashed into the main hall, where Mei Feng was taking tea with her mother. Ripple ran right at the other handmaid’s heels.
“Lady Jia, Lady Jia!” Orchid exclaimed, out of breath. “A message! A royal message sent from the imperial palace!” She proffered the gold tube, ornately etched with a deep green dragon bearing five claws on each foot, a symbol only the emperor could use. Her mother sprang up, snatching the tube from the handmaid.
The two girls shuffled backward but did not leave the hall.
Her mother opened the tube and retrieved the rolled message. Mei Feng could see the dark sweep of calligraphy across the rice paper and the deep red ink of the imperial seal in several places on the page. Lady Jia read with care, then read again. She lifted her glowing eyes and said, “Dear daughter, you are to be wed to the emperor. You will be an imperial consort. The gods and goddesses have smiled down on our family.”
Her mother swept across the stone floor and clasped Mei Feng to her as the two handmaids thrust their faces into their palms and wept for joy. Mei Feng would need to take servants with her to the palace, so the two girls’ fates had been altered drastically, too, with one royal decree.
Lady Jia released her and touched Mei Feng’s cheek. She winced, remembering Hai Xin’s uninvited touch, stoking desire on her body while instilling fear in her soul. But her mother didn’t notice that she had recoiled. “A royal envoy will arrive in three days to escort you to the palace.” Lady Jia turned to the handmaids, waving them off with her elegant hands. “Don’t just stand there, mewling. We must get ready!”
The two girls dashed off, chattering, their words tumbling over each other. Her mother glided down the main hall steps, likely with a hundred tasks to delegate before Mei Feng’s leave-taking.
She was left alone standing in the middle of the empty main hall, clutching her arms around herself.
The Jia manor was caught in a chaos of activity in the days following, before the royal envoy’s arrival. Mei Feng was thrust along by the frenetic activity, like a blossom dropped into a river and propelled on a strong current. She was led from one place to the next and nodded in acquiescence often, as her mother arranged for everything to be ready before she left home.
Things were so rushed and hectic Mei Feng never had a quiet moment to herself, or with her parents, to say a private farewell. Instead, when the royal envoy arrived with a grand carriage drawn by six magnificent black horses, followed by a procession of imperial guards carrying the emperor’s crimson banner, she only had time to clasp her mother’s and father’s hands briefly, holding back the sting of tears.
She didn’t want to go.
“We are so proud of you, daughter,” her father said, his smile broad and plain, despite his thick beard.
Her mother squeezed her fingers. “Your fortune shines on the entire family, Mei Feng. Write us. Visit when you can.”
She could return to see her family once a year—if the emperor allowed it.
“Yes, Father,” she whispered. “Yes, Mother. I will.”
Then the envoy guided her into the royal carriage, and Ripple and Orchid were helped into a plainer one right behind that was filled with the chests they had packed for Mei Feng. After an official decree was recited by the envoy and a trumpet sounded, heavy curtains fell across the windows of the carriage, and it rumbled off. She couldn’t even peer under the heavy brocaded cloth to see her parents or her home one last time as they sped away from everything she had ever known.
They traveled swiftly toward the imperial city, stopping at inns that were soon cleared for the royal procession. Mei Feng was treated well, given the most delectable food at every meal—but she had little appetite. She missed the company of Orchid and Ripple, but was kept in solitude within the royal carriage, like something special and precious, a rare and caged bird.
They were rolling through the countryside, surrounded by silver birch and colorful wildflowers (Mei Feng had cut a small hole in the carriage’s thick curtain), when they lurched to a sudden stop, thrusting her forward on the plush, cushioned bench. She grabbed the edge of it to prevent herself from falling off. Men in her procession shouted at one another from without, their voices muffled. Scrambling over to the carriage door, she peered through the cut in the curtain. Mei Feng could see nothing but fields of golden grass nestled beneath gentle, sloping hills.
The gruff voices of her imperial guards argued outside. Something blocked their path, and they were deciding what was the best course of action. Then, in a sudden whoosh, their voices were gone. Disappeared, as with the gentle rustle of the swaying grass and the distant birdsong. Mei Feng was left in a complete and dreadful silence.