The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology) (7 page)

I leaped to my feet, but I stumbled, my legs weak and my head dazed. I could not understand what had happened to me. But the summons!

“Wake up.” I nudged the eunuch, dozing on a step stool. “We’re late.”

He rubbed his bleary eyes. Then he grabbed a cover from a peg and wrapped me from head to toe. Carrying me above his chest like a bundle of firewood, he headed into the dark night.

“Stop.” The guards outside the Yeting Court blocked us. “What is the purpose of your leaving the court?”

“Ah…ah…ah-ah…” the deaf eunuch answered.

“The Emperor’s order?” one asked.

They hesitated. Then they whispered among themselves for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the heavy gates opened. The eunuch continued to walk. More guards and more questions. At last, a voice announced we were to enter the Inner Court.

My heart pounded. Pulling away the folds around my head, I peered out. Nothing, save the starless night, dark as the bottom of an abandoned well.

I wiggled more determinedly. But the wrapping wound tightly around me, and I grew tired, my neck hurting from straining below the eunuch’s shoulder. I was going to give up when the eunuch flipped me around as if to ease his arms, and the wrapping loosened.

I pulled down the folds and turned my head.

The Inner Court looked like a deep cavern, with many buildings sitting around like small mountains. The buildings’ flying eaves protruded like ragged cliffs while the red rays from glowing lanterns streamed like a river of rubies. The eunuch walked up a platform, stepped down into a courtyard, and then entered a hallway. Then another platform, another courtyard, and another hallway. It seemed he would never stop walking.

Sometimes, I heard murmurs of women from the chambers, their light footsteps, their labored coughs, and their heavy sighs. I wished I could see their faces. Were any of them the Four Ladies, the highest-ranking ladies?

Finally, we arrived at a large courtyard adorned by a single tree. The eunuch put me down. Gesturing at the central chamber, he mumbled something and left me.

This must be the Emperor’s quarters.

I stared at the latticed windows, where warm, yellow lights illuminated the opaque window covers. Some soft shuffling came from inside, but no one greeted me. And there were no bookkeeper or helpers.

I was alone.

Gripping the cover, I ascended the stone stairs flanked by a pair of stone kylins, the mythical unicorns. When I arrived in front of the chamber, I pushed open the door. There, I hesitated for a moment and stepped across the high threshold.

In front of me stood a bed, the largest and most ornate bed I had ever seen. The headboard and footboard were encrusted with jade and rubies, and red cloth draped across the frame held by four round posts. On top of the posts sat dragons, whose heads raised skyward, each holding a green ball in its mouth. The bed was empty and bare. There were no quilts or pillows, as though no one had ever slept on it.

In the corner, fire sputtered in a tripod brazier and reflected on the scrolls of couplets hanging on the walls. I would have loved to get closer and read them, but it was not the time.

A sweet aroma drifted in the air, perhaps from perfumed candles, the rare type made of beeswax, but I was too nervous to tell what scent it was.

Where was the Emperor?

The mural on my left seemed to tremble. I looked again. It was not a mural, but twelve painted screens with embossed frames. A shadow flew across the screens. My chest tightened. Before I could speak, a breeze swept my nape. Something icy pressed against my neck, and a grim voice said, “Speak! What are you doing here?”

I could hardly breathe. The blade felt cold against my skin. “I…I was summoned.”

“An ill-mannered servant!” The man sheathed the sword with a clang and headed to a stool near the oversize bed. He had a large frame: his shoulders were broad and his head was round like a festival lantern. His face was mercifully masked by the darkness.

Emperor Taizong. Who else would speak in such a manner, as if he were discontent with my behavior even though I had done nothing? He did not possess a lion’s roar. His voice was grim and somehow raspy. He did not walk like a powerful lord. He shuffled, his shoulder tilting to one side, and he looked like he was having trouble holding his back straight. He also groaned as though his bones ached.

That man was the mighty conqueror everyone talked about? The most formidable man of the kingdom, the one who was above everyone else? He had just celebrated forty years of mortality, I remembered, but he looked old, irritated, and morose, as though he resented the world and held grudges against everyone.

With a loud grunt, he sat down on the stool facing the bed. He did not ask me about the riddle—perhaps he had forgotten it, or perhaps he was no longer interested—nor did he question me about my fight with the other Selects.

I stayed where I was, remembering the code, which dictated I must not do anything until I was told. Certainly I could not sit. The superior sat while the subordinate stood. But what should I do? A drop of water slid from my hair to my earlobe, dropped on to my shoulder, and slithered down to my stomach. I shivered.

A splutter came from the brazier, startling me. I glanced at the Emperor. He did not move.

Was he going to sit there forever?

Suddenly, he stretched out his arms. “Now.”

It looked as though he wished me to disrobe him. I tied the corners of the cover sideways at my chest and scurried toward the stool.

Carefully, I held the collar of his robe, pulled back the fabric from his shoulder, slid it down his arms, and took it off. Then I knelt on the floor to reach for the drawstrings of his loose underpants.

I thought of what would come next. My hands trembled.

“What are you waiting for?” He slapped my hand.

I shrank back. Did he wish me to take off my cover? My nerves tightening into a ball, I dug my fingers into the knot and loosened it. The cover slipped from my shoulders and dropped on the floor. Goose bumps spread on my arms, and I stood, unprotected like a plucked hen.

He did not move.

Cold seeped into my skin. I hugged my chest and crossed my legs, but immediately I realized that was a mistake. I dropped my hands to my sides.

“What are you doing?” he said sharply. “Here.” He pointed to his back.

I looked behind him. Nothing. Hesitating, I then walked there.

“Never stand at my back,” he barked.

I quickly stepped aside. Something poked my leg—the sword, its hilt inlaid with jade and gold. It was strange he would keep a sword in his bedchamber, but perhaps he wished me to give it to him. I stooped to pick it up.

“Never, ever touch my sword.” His voice was louder, and the sword slid aside, out of my reach.

I straightened. It was so humiliating. There I was, naked, standing, trying to please him. But he shouted at me as if I were nobody.

“Put these on.” A pair of leather gloves dropped at my feet.

I picked them up, not knowing what to do at first. Then I understood. Of course. I must not touch his skin directly.

He wiggled impatiently, his finger pointing at his right shoulder. “Here!”

Suddenly, everything was clear to me. He did not wish me to strip, nor did he desire me to pleasure him. He only needed my fingers to scratch his back.

I tapped the skin beneath his shoulder blades. He let out a loud grunt. “Harder!”

I increased my pressure.

“Harder!”

I scratched with all the strength I could muster. He sighed in relief, and then he lifted his feet. “Foot bath.”

I searched for containers. There were two basins filled with water near the brazier. I wanted to cover myself first and then fetch the water, but I was afraid to keep him waiting. So I went to one basin, carried it above my chest, and left it before him at the stool.

He thrust his feet into the water. They made squeaky noises as he rubbed, and then he leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling. For a moment he seemed to be soaked in a stream of thoughts, and then he closed his eyes. Soon, soft snores rose into the air.

A strand of damp hair fell over my eyes. I tucked it behind my ear. It seemed ironic to me that the Emperor, who conquered the vast land for the kingdom, would sleep on a stool.

I found the cover and tied it around me. I was glad he was asleep so I could study him. He had long, curled whiskers, which shook gently as he breathed. His skin was dark, leathery, and wrinkled, and there were some dark specks around his cheekbones, like smeared flies. He did not have much hair on his head, and a deep scar snaked from his neck to his chest where his underrobe failed to cover. Still, judging from his square face and straight nose, I could tell he had been handsome once, and with his broad shoulders, he must have been a fierce figure on the battlefield, a frightening presence when he commanded an attack.

He was a powerful ruler, the first emperor who had conquered the troublesome Eastern Turks, forcing their neighbors, the Western Turks, to flee to the farthest northern border, and expanded the edge of our kingdom to the snowy mountains near Tarim Basin. He was also known as a cunning strategist. When he faced the undefeated elephant armies of the Champa kingdoms in the south, he had trapped them in pits and shot the elephants with crossbows, causing them to trample their own soldiers in fear.

But he was old now, so withered and unattractive. If I passed him on a street, I would not look at him twice. And to want to please him? Forget about it. But he was the Emperor, whose words could change my family’s fate. I must do whatever I could to make him love me.

Suddenly, he gazed at me, his eyes bright like a wolf’s eyes sparkling in the darkness.

My knees grew weak. He could order my death for staring at him.

But his eyes rolled and then snapped shut, and as though he had not noticed me, his head lolled to one side and his snores filled up the chamber again.

Perhaps the Emperor was testing me. Or perhaps he was indeed sleeping? For a long time, I stood rigidly, not daring to move. But he did not wake again.

Flames burst in the brazier and danced in the air. The fire cast my shadow on the wall scroll and covered the couplets. Slowly, I walked to a mat near the brazier and sat down, my head resting on my knees.

Something was wrong.

Yes, I had been late for the summons. But where were the servants and the bookkeeper who was supposed to record my night with the Emperor? And why did he treat me like I was a servant?

I looked around, searching every corner of the chamber. The incense sticks had burned halfway down, the fire in the brazier was burning bright, and the cushions on the floor were stacked against the wall. Everything appeared neat, and no one else was around.

The door squeaked. A woman stepped over the threshold.

I could not believe my eyes.

“Mei?” She was shocked to see me too, her hand frozen on the cover she wore, a cover similar to mine.

My hands turned cold.

Jewel had stolen my summons. She had come in my place to meet the Emperor, who had mistaken me for a maidservant. The bookkeeper and servants were absent because the bedroom affair was already over, or perhaps the Emperor had sent them away.

So that was the secret she had shared with Eunuch Ming. She had bribed him to bring her to the Emperor’s quarters. No one would know it was not me, since she was wrapped in the cover. But the deaf eunuch, unaware of their scheme, had carried me to the Emperor’s chamber.

And she had drugged me.

“What are you doing here? Go to your chamber.” Jewel stepped forth and held my shoulders. “I will explain later.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” I shook her hands off. A fire burned inside me. Pretending to be my friend. Bathing with me. Deceiving me. Jewel was worse than the Xu Girl.

“He’s here. Don’t be foolish.” She glanced at the Emperor on his stool.

I did not care. I shoved her with all my might. A loud thump. She crashed onto the foot of the bed, and the screens toppled to the floor. Water splashed. The basin, spinning, flew to my feet.

“What is it?” the Emperor roared, standing up. “What’s going on?”

I kept my eyes on Jewel. When she rose, I would slap her and make her suffer. And I did not care that the Emperor was watching.

She did not rise. Instead, she slipped down the bed, her head drooping, her arms sprawling.

“What’s this?” The Emperor walked to her. “Rise now.”

No response.

I blinked. Did I hurt her? Did she…?

The Emperor shook Jewel’s shoulder, but she wobbled like a lifeless doll. Frowning, he pulled her into his arms. Then he pinched her cheek and patted her face. Jewel made no movement.

He stood up and turned to me. “What did you do?” he bellowed. “Who are you?”

“I…I…” Blood rushed to my head, and the room swam before me. Jewel was dead? But I had not meant to harm her. I was angry. That was all. She had deceived me!

There was a groan like that of a small animal, coming from somewhere. Like that of a cat. I recognized the voice.

Jewel’s.

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I was only getting a rest.” And there, one hand holding the bedpost and the other touching the back of her head, she rose, smiling, as if nothing had happened.

She had feigned it. She had made me believe she was dead. Never had I felt so angry. “Jewel!” I lunged for her. But somehow I ended up on the floor, and my head knocked against the hard wood. A stabbing pain hammered my head, and I could not hear or see. I was also soaked, my feet were cold, my hair was tangled, and water was everywhere.

“Get out.” The Emperor stood before me. “Get out now.”

My head spinning, I looked from him to Jewel.

“You should go.” Jewel stood next to the Emperor. Gently, she stroked his shoulder, her head leaning toward him, her slender, tapered fingers clinging to him like vines.

I scrambled to my feet.

“Wait. Perhaps you’ll mop up the water before you leave?” she said.

All I could do was take the rag from her hand and kneel. I wiped the area near the bed, behind the screens, under the drapery, and around the stool where the Emperor sat. When the rag was soaked with water, I straightened and wrung it above the basin. The bedchamber darkened momentarily before me. My kneecaps were tender, my back ached, my fingers were cold, and my head throbbed.

Jewel whispered to the Emperor while I cleaned. He smiled and nodded. He seemed to enjoy her company, and finally, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

When I straightened again, Jewel came to me. “Now, you may leave,” she said, her catlike eyes as deep as a treacherous abyss. “And thank you for your riddle.”

I stumbled out of the chamber, and the door shut behind me.

For a long time, I stood in the corridor outside the bedchamber while a stout girl holding a broom watched me. I pulled the cover tighter and went down the stone stairs.

Beyond the courtyard, the lights had been extinguished. There was nothing but darkness ahead of me.