The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology) (11 page)

Plum glanced around as though to see if anyone were eavesdropping. Then she cupped her hand over my ear again. “One thing you need to know is the Pure Lady is ruthless. You must make sure you never offend her.”

“I have yet to meet her.” Laughter burst out, interrupting us. I turned to see a group of Graces in a corner, their heads gathered together. “So I hear I will receive an assignment after the training.”

“Yes. We all have duties. Some weave, some clean, some do laundry, some serve the Ladies. Only the Ladies can sit on their stools and draw their beauty marks all day.”

“What about the Emperor?” I asked. “When will we see him?”

He was wounded, but he would recover.

“We go to see him on the tenth day and the twenty-first day of every month.”

The bedding schedule. I remembered what Jewel had told me during the bath. “Why those days?”

“Oh, according to the bedding schedule, the lowest-ranking ladies go to see the Emperor on the first nine days of the moon, then the middle-ranking ladies on the next three nights, followed by the high-ranking, and the Empress on the fifteenth and the sixteenth days of the moon, the full moon nights.”

“Why on full moon nights?”

Plum licked her lips. “Because the full moon nights are considered most favorable to conceive a child. So the high-ranking ladies have this privilege. After the sixteenth night of the moon, the cycle completes, and we do it in the reverse order.”

So the Emperor would have women serving him every night. “But there are nine Talents.” I still did not understand. “Who among us gets to go on those designated days?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” She made a face. “We will all go together.”

I would need to lie with the Emperor together with eight other Talents? “Really? No one told me that.”

“It’s true.” She made a face again. “Each time when we go to see the Emperor, we go in a group of nine. There are twenty-seven seventh-degree ladies, so they are divided into three groups, the same with the eighth-degree ladies and the ninth-degree ladies. So they have nine nights total. We have nine Talents, and we have one night with the Emperor. So do the Beauties and Graces. The Emperor spends the night alone only with the Empress, who used to see him on the full moon nights. But since our Empress has died, the Emperor summons whomever he pleases on those nights.”

I swallowed hard. “So the Emperor always follows the schedule?”

She shrugged. “He does as he pleases. Do you know Jewel, our new Most Adored? He’s been calling her every cycle, ignoring the bedding schedule. Twice around the full moon! Even the Ladies lost their nights. They say he has grown rather attached to her.”

That was bad news. “But he’s wounded. Shouldn’t he get some rest?”

“You are right about that.” Plum stuck out her tongue. “It looks like we all need to wait until he recovers.”

“Ah.” I played with the eating sticks. Should I ask her? “Do you see anyone other than the female ministers here? I mean—” A eunuch holding a tray walked by me. I paused. When he passed, I continued, carefully. “Did you ever see the Emperor, Taizi, or his horses?”

I regretted asking. Of course, neither the Emperor nor Taizi would come visit the etiquette school.

“I saw them once.”

“You did? How?”

“On the polo field. It’s down the hill, not far from here.”

“Did you see Taizi and his groom?”

“Groom? The heir has a dozen of them. Which one?”

“Never mind.” I smiled. “We should go back to the classroom.”

• • •

Later that month when I had free time, I wandered to the polo field behind the school. It was a vast area near a hill surrounded by groves of mulberry trees. The silkworm farming season had already ended, and no one was picking leaves, but the ladders were still scattered around. I passed the ladders and hid behind the tree branches.

In the field, a dozen riders pranced, holding mallets with curved ends. Taizi was there, his chest bare. Looking like a mountain on his ride, he pursued a scarlet ball near the net at the end of the field.

I studied the grooms around the field. Some ran back and forth with buckets of water; some groomed the horses with brushes. I did not see Pheasant. Disappointed, I turned away.

A whistle came from behind me.

I jumped, and there he was, standing beside me. The sunlight sifted through the thick mulberry leaves and lit up his chiseled face.

“Sorry.” He smiled brilliantly. “I saw you coming, so I thought to give you a surprise.”

He remembered me. “I was just passing by.”

He grinned, and I could not tell if he knew I was lying. “And good timing too. I happen to be free.”

“Well, I hope the Captain did not thrash you the other day,” I said. “I also would like to tell you how grateful I am for your help.”

“Don’t mention it. I know many hideouts in the palace. If you wish to know, I will show you.”

“Perhaps some other day,” I said. “What are you doing here? Were you playing polo?” Would Taizi allow his groom to play a nobleman’s game?

He shook his head. “Not today. The Emperor forbids it. He’ll spank me if he catches me with a mallet. He worries about accidents. Taizi was knocked off his horse and nearly killed a month ago. Do you like polo?”

“Never played it before.” He should know that it would be impossible for me to ever play polo. “It’s not for a girl.”

He shrugged. “Who makes rules like that? I shall teach you next time, if you like. But you need to be careful so the mallet doesn’t smack your face.”

I felt as if I had found a conspirator who agreed to steal a jug of honey and share it with me. I stared at him, unable to hold back my smile. “Smack my face? Sounds dangerous.”

“Do you still want to try?”

“More than ever.”

He grinned. “You are different,” he said.

“Different? Is this your phrase for all the girls?” I was never happier, however.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you no, would you?” He thrust his head to one side. “Come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

“What surprise?”

“You’ll see.”

He pushed the branches aside and walked to a trail that led to the other side of the hill. It had to be the back of the court. The woods were dense, the buildings looked dusty, and there were few servants loitering about. We were, as far as I could see, completely alone.

I liked the way he walked, the way his arms swung and he held his head. He looked like a stallion enjoying a run in the breeze. He was also more attractive than I remembered: the profile of his nose was perfect, and the line of his jaw curved slightly. He still wore the same white tunic and a pair of white trousers he had worn on the day we met. They did not carry any embroidery works on the hem or any patterns that a noble boy’s clothes would have. But he looked clean and well-groomed, and he smelled of hay and fresh fruit.

He did not let me trail behind him as custom dictated; instead, he waited for me to catch up with him, and together, we walked side by side.

Once or twice, his arm brushed mine, and he attempted to hold my hand. I giggled and hid my hands in my sleeves. When he stopped trying, however, I regretted it with all my heart.

After a while, we arrived at a tangerine grove, where yellow-orange fruits drooped among thick, green leaves. In the air floated a sweet, lemony fragrance mixed with an earthy smell. I stood under a tree, my foot poking at the ground. Part of me was worried. What if someone caught us? Part of me was excited. I had never been alone with a boy before. What were we going to do?

“Here we are.” He plucked the fruit from a branch. “First batch of the season. Do you want a tangerine? This one looks ripe. Do you like tangerines?”

Of course I enjoyed delicious tangerines. But if I said I liked them sweet, would he think I was too predictable?

“Only if they’re sour.”

“I should have known.” Chuckling, he dug his thumb into the depressed navel of the citrus. A plume of mist burst out, and the zesty scent flew to my nose. My mouth watered, yet I cast my gaze low. He was so close to me. If I tripped over something, I would fall into his arms.

He was concentrating on the fruit in his hand. Carefully, he peeled off the rind and arranged the pieces around the fruit like petals of a blooming flower. Then he picked up the threadlike pith and removed it until there was nothing on the reddish flesh. He held a segment between his fingers. “Open your mouth.”

It would be rude to decline, wouldn’t it? I felt the soft tangerine on my tongue and bit down.

“How does it taste?”

“Good.” Actually, it tasted sour, with a hint of bitterness. But it did not matter.

His finger brushed my lips. “So you like it?”

I would have liked it if he had put a rock in my mouth. All I knew was his smooth skin and the tang of the citrus on his finger. No one had ever touched me like that before. “Yes.”

“Just the way you like it?” His finger lingered.

My heart pounded, and my cheeks warmed. I wanted to lift my head and look into his eyes, but I was worried he would know my thoughts. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.” I stole a look at him. He was grinning. His eyes, shielded by a thick fence of eyelashes, sparkled. “I thought I would never see you again.”

A sweet sensation rose from the bottom of my heart and spread to my limbs, but I said, “Why? Were you worried I would tell about you and Teacher Rain?”

He put his hand on my shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

I could feel the warmth from his hand and his breath on my forehead. He was so close to me. His eyes, those pools of amber, danced with light, reminding me of how the rays of the sun sparkled on a summer field. Yes. I knew exactly what he meant, and that knowledge sent a ripple of happiness to my heart.

“Who is there?” a male voice called from the grove.

We froze. Pheasant grabbed my hand and pulled me to run. We dashed out of the grove, raced down the trails through the woods, and finally, turned onto the path leading to the polo field.

“That was close,” he said as we stopped to catch our breath.

“Did he see us? Who was he?” I asked, my heart pounding from running, and I was nervous too.

“Perhaps a gardener. Don’t worry.”

A servant holding a tray appeared down the hill. I stepped away from him. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

“Wait! Can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.” I smiled and walked quickly down the hill.

It was near supper hour. Time had gone fast. I had not known I had spent almost the whole afternoon with Pheasant. On the horizon, the sun shone brightly like a sweet tangerine, and the air smelled fragrant, intoxicating with its scent.

the
Fifteenth Year
of
Emperor Taizong’s Reign
of
Peaceful Prospect

AUTUMN

I was reading in the library when Teacher Rain snatched the scroll of poems from my hand. “Follow me,” she said.

I walked behind her. She seemed ill-tempered, and I was wary. “May I ask where we’re going?”

She did not answer, and I followed behind her as we passed a gate, a vast courtyard, then another gate, and another courtyard. The ladies in the corridors raised their heads from
weiqi
tables and studied me. Maids leaned over brooms and glanced at me. I did not look at them, but I grew uneasy inwardly.

Where was she taking me?

She walked down a corridor and stopped in front of a building with three bays. “This is the Emperor’s wardrobe chamber,” she said, pushing open the center door. “You’re to tend to it from now on.”

My heart sang. I had been given an assignment in the imperial wardrobe! Not emptying Jewel’s chamber pot, embroidering, or doing other onerous, menial work. Most importantly, I was closer to the Emperor, and I could run into him at any moment. I wondered what Jewel would think when she found out.

I picked up my skirt and stepped inside.

Twelve tall wardrobes, engraved with elaborate flowery designs and lacquered in shiny red, stood before me. Along the walls, rows of shelves contained large chests, each the size of a writing table, stacked to the ceiling. I could not tell how many there were. Hundreds, perhaps. A strong odor of mold slapped my face like a soiled rag, but I did not mind. It smelled better than any exotic perfume, and my heart swelled like a storehouse full of treasure and riches.

“What should I do?” I walked between the rows of chests with leather buckles. My clogs struck the wood floor, the clear sound echoing in my ears like sweet music.

Rain stuffed a scroll into my hand. “This will tell you everything.”

I glanced at the document, which contained a list of my daily duties—preparing garments for the Emperor in the morning, organizing garments, counting linens, mending the seams, etc. “Where are the other caretakers?” Surely there were other helpers in the Emperor’s wardrobe chamber; even my father had two maids dusting his garments.

“You are the only one. More will come when the Emperor approves the assignments.”

I was surprised. “What about the previous maids?”

“Gone.” She headed to the door.

“Gone where? Did something happen to them?”

“Hanged.” The door swung shut behind her.

I wondered what they had done to deserve such a terrible fate. I studied the chamber again. It seemed different, the air filled with sinister threat. I must be careful. I could not make any mistakes.

I began to examine the chests. None of them were labeled. The former caretakers of the wardrobe were either too lazy to write the Chinese characters, or they were illiterate.

I opened the tall wardrobes. Inside were many extravagant sets of regalia. Red robes made of smooth silk, indigo robes interwoven with gold and silver threads, maroon robes embroidered with intricate designs of cranes, dragons, phoenixes, evergreens, and mountains, and multicolored gowns edged with fur and embellished with sparkling jewels. I was familiar with beautiful robes, but these touted finery I had never seen before.

“Sort out the garments according to the occasions the One Above All must attend…” I read from the list. “Important occasions include the audience on the first day of the moon, audience on the fifteenth day of the moon, days of receiving foreign ambassadors, worshipping Heaven and Earth, making sacrifices to ancestors, sacrifices to divinities of seas and mountains, offerings to the deities of grain and soil, offerings to the ancestors on their death anniversaries…”

But how would I know which robe was for which occasion? I knew enough not to dress him in red for his ancestors’ death anniversaries, but I also understood the wrong embroidery, wrong patterns, wrong fabric could cause insult when none was intended.

I went on to examine the chests. I could not lift the ones stacked high, so I started with the ones on the ground near the wardrobes. One by one, I opened them. Inside lay the Emperor’s casual outfits—long yellow robes; knee-length orange robes; tunics with wide sleeves; tunics with narrow sleeves; dresses embroidered with the sun, the moon, and stars; dresses stitched with paired deer and cranes; and many more.

“And the occasions are”—I checked the list—“court days, hunting, polo competitions, picnics, spring outings, admiring the full moon, spring outing, stargazing, feasting…”

So many occasions. I rubbed my eyes and moved on to the chests along the wall, which amassed an array of dazzling accessories, such as mortarboards, bejeweled girdles, jade clasps, beaded seal pouches, silk slippers with curled tips, jade pendants, leather boots, silk undergarments, even breastplates and capes.

In another container, I found red sable coats, black mink hats, spotted leopard vests, dyed leather gloves, and many crimson fur capes.

How could one man wear all these?

I started to sweat, but I had finished reviewing only half of the chests. Many accessories were tangled together and mismatched; to simply put everything in order would take days.

A girl dressed in a white tunic came to the chamber. She said she was the Emperor’s dress maid and her name was Daisy. Playing with her long braids, she said simply, “Need polo suit.”

“Polo, polo.” I wished she could be more helpful, but she seemed rather distracted, her face blank, and when I asked her again, she only stared. I paced between the chests, remembering seeing a tunic with a picture of men riding. After half an hour, I finally found it at the bottom of the third container near the fourth wardrobe.

Over the next few days, I carefully sorted out the accessories, organized compartments for shoes and girdles, folded the garments, paired them with underclothes and belts, and labeled the chests according to the seasons. When it was sunny, I spread out the winter garments and fur coats and capes in the courtyard to rid them of dust, moth eggs, and tiny insects. Before the fur and fabric could get warm, I swiftly took them inside and stored them to prevent the color from fading.

Every day, I rose on the fourth crowing of roosters and arrived at the wardrobe chamber before dawn broke. By the time I returned to my bedchamber, the last ray of the sun had faded. After twenty-five days, I stretched my aching back and scanned the neat assortments with satisfaction. There it was. Orderly fashion.

Plum, along with four Beauties, came to the chamber several weeks later. Taking care of the garments became easier with their help, and Plum seemed to know the answer to every question I asked her.

“Those previous maids before us,” she answered, smoothing some stubborn wrinkles of a picnic tunic, “they were hanged because they dressed the Emperor in mourning regalia on the fifteenth day of the moon.”

I stopped sweeping the floor, shocked that such a small error would cost people’s lives. “We must not make mistakes like that,” I said. “I wish we could know what kind of clothing the Emperor would wear the next day, then we could prepare them ahead of time.”

She shook her head. “It’s not possible.”

Only the imperial Taoist astrologer, who consulted the Emperor’s personal almanac daily, kept the ruler’s schedule. A sixth-degree Talent like myself certainly would not have the privilege of knowing it. Neither was I, nor any lady, allowed to keep a calendar, which required the monitoring of Heaven and thus was considered sacred. Again, only the Emperor’s astrologer was allowed to create and keep a calendar, and if anyone else possessed one without permission, it was a severe crime, punishable by death.