Page 58 of The Poet Empress
Once the emperor died, the coronation would follow immediately after. It was the one opportunity I would ever have to kill my prince. The heart-spirit poemhadto be ready by then.
“Hmm.” Silian had taken me to an empty courtyard, the sounds of the wedding far away. Not even a single guard stood watch here. Instead, there was only a huge ormosia tree, still green with leaves despite the winter. It was a small form of magic, the kind the palace had no shortage of.
She stood under it and looked up at its snow-laden branches, where clusters of shiny red beans peeked through a coat of white. “You know, Maro tried to write a heart-spirit poem for him too.”
“He did?” I should not have been as surprised as I was.
“He had the same plan as you—to kill him during the Taming of the Dragon. But he never managed to finish his spell. Do you know why?”
I shook my head. My mind was suddenly spinning with the implications, and they were hardly encouraging. Maro was a gifted literomancer, and he reallyhadloved Terren. If even he could not write the prince’s heart-spirit poem, what hope did I have?
I had only learned to read a few months ago. I had only ever despised him.
“I do.” Silian turned sharply to me. “My husband is prideful. He has always assumed he knew his brother well enough, from their shared boyhood, to compose his poem. But seasons pass, people change, and Terren is not sixteen anymore. I do not think Maro has spoken an earnest word to him since then. I think he failed because he wrote the poem for who Terren was before, and not who he is now.”
A torturer,I thought reflexively.There is no more to him than that.
But at the same time, I knew with certainty that he was more than something that caused pain. I knew because while a hundred floating knives could hurt me just as badly, I could never hate those knives like I did Terren. I did not hate the hurt he inflicted. I hated the person he was.
“You think… I must speak earnest words to him.” Even the idea of it made me feel drowned.
“More than that. I think you must get him to speak them back. I think you must wield a concubine’s weapon.”
“A concubine’s weapon?”
“Wang Li became consort to an enemy king to end the invasion of her homeland. Empress Chena felled a corrupt dynasty and founded a new one with her paramour. Virtuous Beauty Tang manipulated two rebel generals into killing each other by claiming to love each of them. They have all used this weapon.” She took a step closer to me, eyes catching the moonlight. “Here. I’ll show you.” And then she kissed me.
It was very gentle, not at all like the needle-precise techniques Lady Chara had taught us. It was more like a butterfly landing, a petal on thewind. Silian was sweet gao and lotus tea, she was moonlight and new snow. It did not feel like a weapon. But I tried to learn it anyway, and kissed her back.
Nobody had ever taught me how. I just did. Maybe it was only natural, an act every girl in Tensha was born knowing how to do.
35BEYOND THE FARTHEST CREST
I think he’s doing well,Maro wrote in his journals.I hear from Master Ganji that his own studies are progressing quickly.
Maro never knew how much his absence, after the incident at the emperor’s birthday banquet, had affected his brother. He never knew how many years Terren kept waiting for him in the garden, how often he hid from everyone, how he had begun clinging to his old toys again.
I hope that one day, I can be as good as he is at literomancy.
I miss him lots.
His own studies were going well, too. He had written several more Blessings after the first one, which he had contributed to the House for paying off its debts. He had memorized several more classics under the tutelage of Master Ganji. He had grown closer to his training partners, Little Rain and Song Siming, and had even won a martial tournament with them in Cloud’s Landing.
When he turned ten, he gained his?/Lu seal. The whole palace feasted and celebrated for three days, but Maro barely had time to attend. The first afternoon, the emperor immediately summoned him to his strategy room. “There’s not a moment to lose,” he said, making a gesture encompassing the entire living map of Tensha, all its mountains and fertile valleys. “The nation has been waiting too long already.” Then he sent him away.
For more than a year, Maro traveled on a harrowing schedule, working even harder than during his studies when he was younger. Day and night, he channeled the magic of Heaven through his sigil, spinning it into roads, canals, and passageways. He worked through rains and harshwinds; he worked through exhaustion, fevers, and headaches. He was relentless.
But saving Tensha was not the only reason he did his duty with such urgency.
I must recover my reputation,he wrote, over and over again.I must, if I want the respect of my people.
The rumors from when Maro was younger, that he had cheated at writing his first Blessing, had mostly died down—but there were still some who believed them. There were still some who would question his honor, his competency, his patriotism. Maro would prove them wrong once and for all.
His mother wrote to him while he was on the road. Lady Sky’s scribes penned many letters on her behalf, bearing pleasing news from the capital, wishing him good fortune or reminding him to eat well. Sometimes, they were accompanied by a handmade scarf, a jar of plum juice, or little candies.
The letters her servants sent told a different story. The emperor was growing sicker by the day, they said, and in his absence, unrest had befallen the Inner Court. The concubines’ fight for power had only grown more desperate, petty bickering escalating to active sabotage. All of the concubines were becoming frightened.
Come back, Your Highness, I beg of you, read a letter from Lady Sky’s head attendant.Your mother would never tell you, but she asks after you nearly every day. One of her eunuchs sent him a letter, too.Please, Your Highness, you must take her with you on your missions. She is no longer safe in the Inner Court, which has become full of scorpions.
