“I think they’re waiting for the gong,” Max said.
The second official walked over to the footman and tried to take the gong, but the royal servant wouldn’t release it. It was an awkward tug-of-war until Prinny grunted.
“Oh, let him have it. Just don’t hit it hard.”
The footman released it, and the official turned, lifting the gong with a pompous gesture. He raised the mallet, but the captain was quick to speak in Chinese. Max guessed that the man said something like,not too loud! The prince has a headache!
With a grimace of annoyance, the official struck the gong—somewhat softly—and right on cue, the bearers ripped out the curtains. They pulled the fabric away as if it were tissue paper. And there, sitting with her head held high and all sorts of dangly things waving about her face, was a Chinese princess. Or someone who looked very much like a princess.
Max narrowed his eyes, trying to sort face and form through the colorful make up. Her face was powdered white, her lips bright red, and her eyes darkened with kohl. She neither smiled nor looked around. Indeed, she might have been a statue except for the way a large quantity of red beads swung around her face.
Both officials stepped forward and extended an arm. The woman stood slowly as she stepped out of the palanquin. She moved with exquisite care and some awkwardness. Probably because she was tottering on odd sandals that raised her up an extra half foot.
Max was watching her face as she moved, as much as he could see through the swinging beads. Was she revolted by the prince? Was she anxious or frightened? What would it be like to travel all the way from China to be presented to a hungover prince in a dressing gown?
She walked in tiny, careful steps, so her exit from the palanquin was excruciatingly slow. She was dressed in red silk with gold embroidery. Her hands were hidden inside themassive sleeves, and her head was bowed. She seemed a delicate creature, dwarfed by the weight of fabric, headdress, and the two officials hovering on either side of her.
Eventually she made it halfway to where the prince sat, then the official on her left lifted the gong and banged it again. Oh hell, that thing had to be thrown into the rubbish. Max’s temples throbbed every time the thing sounded, and Prinny couldn’t feel much better.
But before the prince could order the blasted thing away, the primary official started intoning grand Chinese words. Such ponderous weight he put to every syllable. Then he paused and looked at the captain.
“This is Wong Xiao Yihui, revered daughter of the Wong patriarch. She’s…uh, beautiful, smart…”
The official spoke more, his words lengthy while the captain clearly struggled to translate.
“Poetic. Godfearing. Um, has elegant hands?” He looked at his hands as if they held the answer. Then he smiled at the prince. “She’s got a good…um, healthy body for babies, I think. I don’t really know all his words, but she’s a prize, your highness, a very good woman.”
Prinny frowned as he looked at the people arrayed before him. “Yes, I see she’s a woman. Is she going to dance for me?”
“Um, no, your highness. She’s the gift, you see.” He twisted his hands together and bowed once before his next words. “They mean her to be your wife.”
Prinny stared. “My wife?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
To his credit, the prince did not react. Neither did anyone else until the room seemed to pound with the silence. And all Max could think was that his sister was going to laugh and laugh at this story when he told her tonight.
Finally, Prinny rolled his eyes. “Max, explain to them that I’m already married.”
“I think they know that, Your Highness,” Max said as he took another step forward. He was trying to get a better look at the woman. What did she think of being presented as a gift to the corpulent prince? “It’s a common practice in China. Gifting women, that is, and taking multiple wives. I’m told the emperor has a thousand.”
Prinny gaped at him. “A thousand?”
The prince stared at the woman who did an acceptable job of not tottering on her bizarre footwear. It was simple fantasy. Prinny couldn’t take another wife. It was scandalous enough that he had a mistress everyone knew about. Putting a random Chinese woman into his house could not happen, but it was clearly fun to imagine. Didn’t every man have a Chinese princess fantasy?
In the end, though, sanity prevailed. “I cannot accept a woman as a present like she’s a horse or something. Good God, can’t you explain that to him?”
Max turned to the captain. He didn’t know what he could add to the conversation, but he tried, speaking in a low tone. “You know this will not work.”
“But it has to, my lord,” the captain shot back.
“Why?”
Unfortunately, Prinny was too impatient to wait for an answer. “Never mind, Max. Thank him for his generous offer, but I cannot accept. The Chinese might keep women like stray cats, but the Crown does not. I suggest they take her back to the hippo people—”
“The Wong cohong.”
“Whomever. And—”
