Later, though, I would wish I had stayed longer. Woken them up, held them close. Given them the chance to say a proper goodbye. But such things only occur to you in hindsight, framed by the before and after of everything you’ve endured; when it is still happening, all you care about is what lies ahead.
CHAPTER THREE
Just as promised, Fanli was waiting on the riverbanks, illuminated by the pale, ghostly light of the full moon.
He was not alone. Behind him stood a line of horses: three beautiful mares, each of their dark coats gleaming, muscles rippling as they pawed the ground, their bridles polished until they shone even in the darkness. Zhengdan was already mounted atop one of them, her spine as straight as a soldier’s, one hand stroking her horse’s withers. These majestic creatures were to the dull-eyed, half-lame animals of our village what silk is to ramie. As my footsteps crunched over the twigs, one of them tossed her great head and whickered softly.
Fanli looked up too, and met me halfway.
“You came.” The moonlight rendered his features lovelier than ever, tracing out the slope of his jawbone and nose. If my beauty was of the destructive kind, his was a beauty that pressed exquisitely close to sorrow; something as cold and untouchable as the stars scattered overhead.
“I would like the finest quality rice,” I said in response.
He tilted his head; a question.
“For my parents,” I clarified, before I could lose my nerve. If he truly needed me as much as he claimed, he ought to agree, no matter how bold my demands. “You said you would compensate them. They must be cared for as one would care for their own blood. They are to receive fresh fish from the rivers, duck meat, and lamb every day. Especially duck meat. That is my mother’s favorite. My father—he has a bad leg. He will need a proper cane, and warm bedding in the winter to prevent it from acting up. The window-paper also needs to be repaired, and there are holes in the roof, which always leak when it rains.”
“Very well.” If I did not know better, I would say he looked almost amused. “Is that all?”
My heart had started pounding as it had not since I snuck out of the house. I fought to maintain a façade of calm. If I were leaving, I would do so with my hands steady by my sides and my chin held high. “For now. But I will let you know, should I think of anything later.”
“So you are ready to depart?”
Of course I was not. “Yes.”
To my shock, he bowed to me then, his head at such a low angle that it came down to my waist. “I do not take your choice tonight lightly,” he said, his voice hushed. “All of Yue will remember you; I swear it.” As he righted himself again, slowly, he gazed up at me from beneath the shadow of his lashes. There was a look in his eyes, one I did not have the vocabulary for yet. Then it vanished entirely, and in a brisk, businesslike manner, he guided me over to the mare in the middle.
She was the shortest of the steeds and had a white patch like a star on her noble forehead. Still, I could not quite reach the stirrups on my own. After Fanli helped me up with one arm, carefulnot to brush any skin, then strode forward to his mount, I looked out at the river and thought to myself:How fitting that the one who saved my life should now be the one to lead me away from it.
We traveled in darkness, guided only by the song of the river.
It was halfway that I realized this was a strategic choice on Fanli’s part. There would be nobody around to witness us at night, to question this sight: a young man dressed in the finest robes, accompanied by two girls of marrying age. Nobody to make their own erroneous assumptions about what this meant.
My mare had been trained well. Even when we passed rock-strewn roads and barbed bushes rustling with nocturnal prey, she did not flinch, nor spook. The lightest touch of the stirrups against her belly, the flick of the reins, was sufficient to prompt a response from the creature. The sound of her steady gait was soothing, an echo to my own heartbeat. I tried not to think about everything I was leaving behind. Or about the dark waters I was wading into, the murky, outflung stretch of black. We were already too far from my village to turn back.
At dawn, with the air rising warm around us, we finally arrived.
I had not known what to expect—only that we were headed to someplace private, where we would live and be trained in secret. But perhaps that was for the best, for my imagination would have failed me anyway. The cottage was raised up on the slope of a mountain, high enough to have an open view of the city below, yet fringed by enough plum blossom trees and shrubbery to remain well concealed. Its green-painted roofs flared out like wings on both sides, and its vermilion walls shone with dew. Just above the front doors, the wordsRIVERSONG COTTAGEhad been etched into the wood from right to left. When I inhaled, there was a new,foreign scent to my surroundings: something clear and sweet, like the first melting of ice in the spring.
A man was waiting at the entrance.
The sun had risen to cast his face in reddish hues. He was neither young nor old, yet he carried himself with the weary, hardened air of one who had already seen too much of the world. His features themselves were on the plainer side, broad-jawed and firm, albeit not fine enough to be handsome. The thing that caught my attention, though, was his gaze.
He watched us like a hawk as we dismounted and approached the gates on foot. A suspicion stirred under my skin. My throat tightened at the possibility. Could it really be that—
“You’ve found her?” he asked, speaking only to Fanli, even while his eyes remained on me.
“She is the best of the best, just as promised. A beauty like no other; you can see for yourself,” Fanli returned. Then he clapped his hands together before him and lowered his head. “Your Majesty.”
Your Majesty.
I exchanged a quick, startled look with Zhengdan before hastily lowering myself too, mimicking Fanli’s position. From this angle, I could only see the bright emerald grass and the polish of King Goujian’s boots. Above me, as if from a great distance, I heard him remark:
“Neither of them have an understanding of basic etiquette? Girls are meant to curtsy, not bow.”
I flushed and straightened at once. Both King Goujian and Fanli were looking toward me; Goujian, with sharp appraisal; and Fanli, without any visible emotion at all.
“I discovered them in a remote village,” Fanli said. “You cannot expect them to be as well versed in etiquette as those of the court. There’s no need for concern though—such things can be taught.”
