Jade Fire Gold(38)
The sword is heavy, but I keep it under his chin. The sharp point of my blade at his throat doesn’t seem to bother him. What will happen if I apply pressure? How will this priest defend himself?
“I counted four,” Leiye murmurs. His smile fades and those slate-gray eyes darken. “Unless your fall was part of that charade?”
“Obviously.”
“Clever.”
He doesn’t believe me. But there’s no time to argue. Someone is calling my name.
I lower my sword hastily and turn around. It’s Linxi. She curtsies and I nod back. I wonder how much she saw.
“Young Master Xima and Lady Ahn, please pardon my intrusion. Her Majesty has requested Lady Ahn’s presence.”
Irritation flickers on Leiye’s face, but he can’t disobey orders from the empress dowager herself. “Of course.”
I hand my sword over to him. He takes it without a word, cold demeanor returning.
Once we’re in the palace halls and out of his earshot, I whisper to Linxi, “Thanks for getting me out of training with that jerk. Smart of you to use the empress’s name this time.”
Linxi’s eyes are wide with urgency. “It’s not a ruse, Ahn. She really wants to meet you.”
“What? Ten Hel—” I clap a hand over my mouth. “Sorry. Why does she want to see me?”
“I don’t know. You look a mess! I can’t present you in your current state.” She grabs my hand and drags me along. “We have five minutes to get you ready. Hurry.”
Lithe and graceful, Empress Dowager Zhenxi doesn’t look old enough to have a son the crown prince’s age. Swathed in layers of white silk embroidered with gold phoenixes, jewels drip from the heavy necklace around her neck and the rings on her fingers. Her midnight hair sits high upon her head, fastened by gold and purple jewelry and a turquoise fāzān in the shape of a kingfisher. Surprisingly, her face remains unpainted except for her lips which are blood-red. It isn’t as if she needs any embellishment. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Shoulders thrown back, I sit straight as an iron rod, my neck pulled taut by an invisible string. When offered, I drink from my ridiculously tiny teacup. There’s barely enough tea inside for a real taste.
“How is the tea, my dear?” asks Empress Zhenxi.
“It’s . . .” I search desperately for a suitable word. “Fragrant.”
Her lady-in-waiting pours more into my cup before stepping back to a corner of the pavilion.
“It is a custom blend that I save for very special guests.” The empress smiles. A slender manicured fingernail strokes her cup. “I call it the Oriole’s Tears. I do hope you can appreciate the soothing honey-like flavor under that green burst of freshness.”
“Yes, it’s wonderful.” I take another hasty sip.
There’s a melodic lilt to her manner of speech. I wonder how long it took her to mimic the way people in Beishou speak. I heard she was born to a lower-class family in one of the Southern Colonies along the Straits of Nandah. For years, there were rumors of how she worked her way up from attendant to concubine to Imperial consort, and finally, empress. Some say it was her beauty that ensnared Gao Long, others say it was her wit.
“How are you liking palace life? Do you miss your friends and family back home?” she asks.
“Everyone has been kind to me. I do miss my adoptive grandmother, but my father has sent for her.”
“How thoughtful of him to do so. When will your grandmother arrive? I shall have a chamber prepared for her. Near yours, of course.”
I stand and curtsey with my head bowed low. “Thank you, Your Majesty. But my father says that we will live in Zhao Manor once she arrives.”
“But I would like to meet her. Surely the both of you can stay in the palace for a little while longer?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” I agree obediently, and sit back down. I don’t think I could have refused her request. “However, I’m not sure when she’ll arrive in the capital. My father has been rather busy of late.”
“He isn’t going all the way to your village himself, is he?” she says with a short laugh.
“Oh, no, he’s not. I meant . . .” I hesitate. I asked my father a week ago if he’d sent anyone to my village. He said it slipped his mind, but that he would do so immediately.
“If Premier Zhao does not have the time to oversee this matter, come to me,” says the empress firmly. “I am more than willing to handle it. One should not be apart from family for so long.”
“Your Majesty, you mustn’t think that my father—” I almost gasp when the empress reaches across the table and holds my hand. Her skin is smooth and cool.
“My dear, you have no idea what your father has done for the Empire. He has devoted his life to our people. We are indebted to him.” She pats my hand. “He has much on his plate, and anything I can do to help, I will.”
She smiles warmly at me, and I can’t help but smile back with pride. All this time, I thought my parents were ordinary peasants, but things turned out so differently. A pang of guilt gnaws at me. I need to work harder with my training and master my life-stealing affinity. I want to make my father proud.
“I heard you had trouble remembering your early years.” The empress places a small glass vial of clear liquid on the stone table. “This is a tincture extracted from a rare plant that grows alongside the crystal lakes of the north. It helps in clearing the memory pathways and may be useful in cases of amnesia. I thought you might like to have it. It must be difficult not to be able to remember your own mother.”