A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (31)

“What else do they say about us?” Lian asks, still amused.

“That the shénnóng-shī deal in secrets,” Mingwen says, her interest outpacing her suspicion. “Many of you don’t accept payment in coin, only in truths.”

“They say you will require payment years later because of the poison you put in the tea. It may seize you in the middle of the night and kill you,” Qing’er rambles on, before looking at us with worry. “Is it true? You don’t seem like murderers.”

Lian and I can’t help ourselves. I double over, scarcely able to breathe, while Lian laughs so hard she has to wipe tears from her eyes. Qing’er looks at the spectacle of us, bewildered, while Mingwen huffs beside him.

“What sort of demons do you think we are?” I can’t help but sputter through my mirth.

Mingwen stands, scowling again. “Forget it,” she snaps.

Lian gets to her feet, too, and helps her gather our used bowls and utensils. “We’re happy to answer any of your questions. I used to believe so many rumors, but I would have never known what is true and what is a lie until I started my apprenticeship.”

Mingwen nods after considering this, slightly appeased. “I suppose you are not all bad.”

With the four of us, it takes no time at all before everything is packed away. As Mingwen secures the lid onto the top of the basket, she pauses.

“I … probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she says, glancing at the door to make sure no one else is listening, before looking back at me. “The steward knows you are the one who took the snacks to the marquis. She will be coming to find you soon.”

With that cryptic warning, she hurries outside before I have a chance to ask her any questions.

“Oh no,” Lian says to me, eyes wide as saucers. “I would make myself scarce if I were you.”

“Grandmother!” Qing’er exclaims. Before Lian and I can even move to save ourselves, Steward Yang strolls in through the opened doors.

Dressed in a dark gray robe with a black sash, not a hair out of place, Steward Yang examines the room. Although she is not a particularly tall woman, her presence is commanding. She makes me want to stand up straighter and check my collar to make sure my appearance is as it should be.

“You!” She catches sight of me and stalks over, grabbing my arm. I am rooted in place, not knowing where to turn or where to flee. Lian is no help; she looks as petrified as I am.

“Laughing, the two of you? Think it’s all a joke? Pretending to be someone else for a day?” Steward Yang’s voice starts out deceptively low, but increases in volume quickly, until her words come out as a yell. “Conspiring to make a fool out of me? Make a fool out of my departments?!”

Her nails dig into the soft skin of my arm, making me wince. “Competitors are to remain to themselves. Not cavort with court officials. Not play with costumes.

“And you!” With her other arm, Steward Yang points an accusing finger at Lian, who puts the table between us as if it would be enough to save her. “I recognize you. I remember you from when you were young. Always getting into trouble. Always underfoot. I was too soft on you, thinking you a child. I had hoped that the Esteemed Lu would have taught you manners.

“But now I discover the two of you are sneaking around my kitchens. I’m sure Minister Song would love to hear how competitors like you are pretending to be maids, traipsing around the palace, making a mockery of the competition. He would love to hear what sort of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Fear gives way to annoyance, then to anger. It brings forth the same feeling of choking helplessness I had standing before the marquis, and those red-faced, drunken fools, who can break the rules without a care. They do not have their reputations and their futures at stake in this competition. Their fortunes are aligned, their futures secure. They will go on to receive the training they need to enter the trials regardless of the outcome. And as for me … I will lose my sister like I have already lost my mother.

I snatch my arm out of her grasp and snarl at her, “Some of the other competitors are enjoying private audiences with the marquis himself. How is that fair? I know many of the kitchen staff have been to his residence, so you must have known about these transgressions. Why did you not inform the minister immediately?”

Steward Yang blanches at the mention of the marquis. “How do you know that?” she demands. “What did you see?”

I realize she must have believed I only passed the dishes to the servants of the household. She didn’t know I saw who the marquis was entertaining within his private chambers.

Lian pounces to my rescue. “Beloved Auntie Yang—” She links her arm with the older woman, laying on her charm. “We have tried to be helpful, to keep our hands from lying idle, but we failed you in our attempts. You are right; you should indeed inform the minister of all we have seen. Tell him you were the one who provided us with the wisdom and the courage to do the right thing.”

Steward Yang now looks like a rabbit in a trap, brushing Lian off and shaking her head. “No … I realize now. There is no need for that, I assure you.”

“But you taught us such an important lesson!” Lian exclaims with exaggerated sincerity. “We have no choice but to follow—”

“Oh, stop it, foolish girl!” Steward Yang snaps. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, massaging one temple with her fingers. “The longer I remain in the palace, the more it drains the life out of me.”