Page 93 of The Poet Empress
I didn’t, because his ward would never let me touch him.
And because—somehow, even now—a small, buried part of me still remembered the poem. The heart-spirit poem. The ballad of love. If he killed me, I would never get to finish it. And if I didn’t finish it, he and all his knives and violence would become emperor. Kill more people. Make more places than just the Cypress Pavilion smell like the butcher’s stall.
I had clawed my way into Terren’s good graces. I had gotten rid of Hesin, my opposition. The way to kill him now was completely clear. I could not give in to my anger. I could not let Wren and everyone else die for nothing.
I had to keep him believing I was still on his side.
Keep him believing I was still that dutiful bride I pretended to be on his wedding night, who got on her knees and spoke of a village girl’s dream. Who spied for him. Who loved him.
“Not really,” I said. My mouth tasted like ash.
He must have still sensed that I was upset, because his sigil flickered with agitation. “You didn’t like that.”
“Not really.”
“Then what would you like?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “As much as I find you contemptible, you still helped remove a traitor from my court. I wish to reward you.”
“It’s fine, Terren. I am your wife. I am only doing my duty.”
“Wait. I remember.” He brightened as he picked himself up, not bothering to brush off the mud and leaves still stuck everywhere to his gown. “You want tuition for your brother to go to school. You told me our first night together, more than a year ago. And you want food sent home to your village of Lu’an—because the famine has torn it apart.”
He had no right to say the name of my home.
“That should be easy enough for me to arrange.” He nodded to himself, as if pleased. “In addition, I will allow you one month’s time away from the palace, so that you can deliver the gifts personally. Wei, will that do?”
He kept looking at me, as if expecting me to thank him, or smile, or even acknowledge him, but I had used up all the kind words I had left in me and could not.
At last he seemed to bore of me and went away, leaving me with Wren’s cooling body and the muted rain.
52A NATION BEAUTIFUL AND WOUNDED
It rained for a few more days, each as cold and gray as the next. Each new day, new servants trickled into the Cypress Pavilion. Their faces held the blankness of strangers, not the warmth of friends. I did not bother to learn any of their names, except for the head attendant, Mi Yung, who kept hovering about my parlor, rearranging furniture.
Not here,she said anxiously.Nor here. The mandarin plant cannot be next to the east window. The mirror must not face the rear door.
Who was your attendant before this? She has gotten the spatial harmony all wrong.
She spoke a lot, and hurriedly, and I wondered if she was afraid. I wondered if she thought that by invoking the right superstitions, she could find logic in what had no logic, and avoid being skewered like her predecessor.
Ciyi and Hu had been the only two Terren spared in his killings. The scribe had been appointed by me personally, and the elderly maid had no tongue. Neither, the prince must have reasoned, were likely to be Hesin’s spies.
I did not see either of them much, and when I did, Ciyi spoke as little as Hu did.
At last, when the sun clawed its way feebly out of the clouds, it became time to go.
My traveling party stood ready in front of the Cypress Pavilion, alongwith several carriages full of provisions, which were draped heavily with red azaleas, both real ones and the painted ones on the Guan emblem.
Ciyi and Mi Yung rode on either side of me as we left the palace’s grand gates and descended the valley, towards home.
Home.The thought was tempting.
I wanted to see Ma again. I wanted to go back to the tiny room we shared, with the bamboo mats and the leaking roof and the old incense, and put my head to her warm chest, and have her run her fingers through my hair. I wanted to see Ba again, to feel safe with his strong arms around my shoulders, and be able to forget the palace even existed.
Uncle Gray, and Grandpa Har, and Aunt Lien, and the Rui sisters. I wanted to visit them all.
I imagined myself knocking on the Rui door personally, delighting at the sisters’ surprise as they noticed my cartload of gifts and hands full of red pockets.You were right,I would say.Myrna’s milk really was fresh and sweet, and it really did please Prince Terren. And now look at all he has given us in return.
Bao. I wanted to hug Bao again, most of all. There was little left in the world that could lift the stones from my heart, but his squealing laugh was one of them. When I went home, he would climb onto my shoulders, and then I would give him a prune—maybe two—and tell him all the stories.
