A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (67)

“Chancellor Zhou?” Lian’s brows crease. “Why would he be concerned for our safety?”

I hear the sound of footsteps in the courtyard, then the chancellor himself strides into the room. He is in casual robes, which appear as if they have been hastily thrown on. His hair is tied back in a simple knot, instead of in the usual hairstyle of the court. His expression is somber.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He walks over to where one of the guards kneels beside the dead man, searching through his armor. “It looks like someone was determined to remove you both from the competition.”

The guard stands and salutes. “Reporting, sir. There is no identification on him that I can see.”

“We’ll find out soon enough. Carry him out and strip him down.” Chancellor Zhou dismisses the guard with a wave, then turns back to us. “Come join me when you are ready. Captain Wu will show you the way.”



* * *



We wait for one of the soldiers to collect the bird with heavy gloves, coaxing it carefully back into the cage with food. The guard attempts to take the Piya, but Lian makes sure it stays close to us, reminding him that the bird must be left in our care until the next round. He eventually grumbles something but acquiesces, leaving us to make ourselves presentable for an audience with the chancellor.

Captain Wu leads us through the corridors while the palace is in slumber. There is no pronouncement from the criers to orient us to the hour, but I can feel the fatigue in my body and mind. The trees of the gardens and the statues appear to take on ominous shapes, shadows stretching into grotesque forms. I wish I had a fresh cup of summer tea with gingko to clear my thoughts.

We enter a side gate, and I recognize we are being admitted to the inner palace—properly this time, instead of sneaking around through the tunnels. We walk on stones where the empress herself used to tread, past painted murals on the walls, depictions of warriors and maidens and scholars. It feels like too many eyes are following our every step.

Stepping over the threshold, we enter a grand room where the braziers are lit, illuminating the rich tones of the redwood paneling. The center of the room is sunken, meant for entertainment. But instead of the chancellor, it is the princess who waits for us on one of the platforms, drinking from a cup. Lian and I drop to our knees before her.

“Leave us,” the princess commands. Captain Wu and the rest of the guards disappear.

“Come.” She waves us to our feet.

I am reminded that I had threatened the princess the night before, forced her hand. And regardless of the fortunate outcome, somehow I don’t think she’s the forgiving sort.

“I … I hope Ruyi is recovering, Your Highness,” I say, clearing my throat.

She gives me a considering look before answering. “Spoken like a true physician’s daughter,” she says. “There is no need to be so formal with me. You have saved the life of my beloved, and for that I am grateful. You may refer to me as Zhen if there are only the three of us present.”

“That is a great honor, Your—thank you.” Lian bows, and I follow in turn.

“Sit,” she instructs, and we kneel on cushions on the lower platform.

“She was restless most of the day, but able to take in some food,” Zhen says. I can hear the undercurrent of worry in her voice.

Lian shakes her head. “I am horrified someone would do such a thing. Poison is a despicable weapon, but I commend you for keeping your composure. I heard from Father that you addressed the court earlier today and gave a speech that roused their spirits for the days to come.”

“You remember Grandmother’s … lessons,” the princess says, and there’s a mirroring grimace on Lian’s face.

My friend nods. “I only ever had to endure them for a few months of the year, but I used to have nightmares of her chewing me up and spitting out my bones if I ever spoke out of turn.”

Zhen chuckles, then lets out a soft sigh. “How I wish she were here … she would know what to do. How to navigate the court, how to…”

“I agree,” Lian says solemnly. “She would know what to do.”

“Let us speak in confidence.” Princess Zhen leans forward, intent. “Within this room, I promise you will have my attention. If you are honest with me, I will be forthright in turn.”

She turns to address Lian first: “I appeal to you, one who was once my young companion. My grandmother gave me her word your family could be trusted. Can I rely on you to provide your counsel and your discretion?”

Lian touches her hand to her shoulder, an acknowledgment. “As my people once recognized your grandmother as the Princess of Peace, so too will I, if you are willing to recognize the pact between our families.”

The princess nods, then her gaze falls heavily on me. “At first I disliked your brashness and saw it as offense,” she says. “But I realize I need fewer flowery words and proclamations of loyalty. I need those who will be able to challenge me if I am failing my people.

“What say you, Ning of Sù?” She searches my face, as if looking for any hesitation. “When you quoted the revolutionary, were you signaling for change, as the marquis accused? Are you willing to be a voice for the people and help me continue my father’s legacy, for the prosperity of Dàxī?”

For a moment, I despair at such a burden. How am I to know if she will be a good ruler? I have seen how people have suffered under greed and corruption, but if she is as unaware of the crimes committed by the officials as she claims, then perhaps she would be willing to do what must be done. Perhaps she would be willing to enact change.