Page 124 of The Poet Empress
“Good night, Terren.”
68NOTHING
I held on to him as he died.
I stood in the sun-glittered water as my torturer sagged into my arms, and his blood seeped warm into my gown. He was lighter than he looked, or perhaps I was stronger than I thought. Stray hair billowed over his still-wet cheeks, and his eyes fluttered shut, like a child giving in to dreams.
We were all so foolish in the end,I thought.So foolish and so, so wicked.
Leaves and blossoms drifted in the water and swirled in the sky around us; mutilated roads and forests of twisted blades stood among the bones of what had once been trees. It was remarkable, the things we made.
I was sorry I killed him. I was even more sorry for the girl who would have been empress, the girl who held the power of dynasties, the girl who could have been anything.
With her husband’s death, she had become nothing.
I wondered if, in the poems and the ballads and the history books, they would mention her name—if they would mention that she was a rice farmer from Lu’an, that she was sister to bright-eyed Bao, that she had once danced with her village under a sky full of lanterns—or if they would simply writeGuan Terren was murdered by his wife,and let that be the truth.
69THE GREATEST NATION
It took only a day before the new emperor visited.
I was pacing my cell in Heaven’s Worship, high up in the mountains, when Isan came. I spotted his dragon coming at a distance as it unraveled itself, above bent pines and steep valleys, towards the ledge where I was confined. The sight surprised me. I had imagined he’d be busy sorting out the dynasty’s affairs after his sudden and tumultuous coronation. Still, it pleased me that I was important enough to see so immediately.
The Crown of the Azalea House was near bursting with fruit. Its scales gleamed the bright orange of persimmons, its horns the jewel shade of plums, its eyes apricot gold. Its mane and bristling spine had transformed into verdant branches, which each hung so heavy with kumquats, hawberries, and mandarin oranges that I could not guess at how it stayed aloft.
Isan stood on its head, holding one of its horns; he directed it until its giant eye floated parallel to the ledge I was confined on. They brought with them the scent of orchards, sweet wine, and long-ago fancies.
Once, I had been so intimidated by him. That crowded New Year’s, in Guishan, I had held my breath as he had stepped out of his carriage, too busy staring at his House Seal to judge his appearance. Now he merely appeared like a person.
“Why?” was the first word out of his mouth. “After you healed him?”
I went towards the edge of the cliff. It was the closest I’d ever been to the third son, who wore a gown of pink-and-gold blossoms—gold, I supposed, because he was now emperor. He looked little like his older brothers. His mouth was more innocent than Maro’s, his eyes not contemptuouslike Terren’s. His?/Guo seal shone a riper red than either the?/Lu or the?/Dao, the red of jujubes and hawberries.
As I neared him, he took a step back. He stayed close enough for us to speak, but not close enough for me to reach out and stab him. Possibly he was afraid of me.
“Why do you think?” I replied, a little disappointed he had not already figured it out. Perhaps I had gotten too used to Terren’s cleverness, and had gained unreasonable expectations for his successor.
Isan went quiet for a moment as he pondered. Then he said, “Because Maro died.”
“Yes.”
The choice between Terren and Maro might have been difficult—so much so that I’d spent the entire coronation’s eve agonizing over it—but the moment Maro had died, Isan became the next in line to receive Heaven’s Mandate. And it had not even been a question then, to choose between knives and something so gentle, so necessary, asfruit.
And even if I had to give up becoming empress, even if it meant I would lose all the power I’d tasted, it hadstillnot been a question. I would choose it over and over again. I would choose it in this life, and the next, and the next.
Isan shook his head sorrowfully. “You are very foolish, Wei. You may think you have done the right thing, but what do you know? A girl like you, having been raised in the rice fields and confined to the Inner Court—you have no idea what the world is really like. The nation has many enemies.”
“Does it?”
“It will not survive long without my brother’s power.”
“Won’t it?”
“Why do you think so many have supported him, despite his villainy?” He sounded exasperated. “By killing him, you may have murdered a dynasty.”
“Murdered a dynasty,” I echoed, and laughed softly. They all cared so much about these things, didn’t they? “You say it like it is an unspeakable crime, Isan. A greater evil than killing a child. But dynasties are not real. They are made up. Fiction.”
It was him who didn’t know anything.
