“Yes, yes,” Prinny said, waving to silence Max as he stepped down the hallway. “Is that Miss Wong’s sickroom?”
“It is, Your Highness.” Lady Kimberly dipped into a curtsy—a little late, but Prinny didn’t seem to care. “And Miss Yihui has expressed a desire to meet you, if you would like.”
Oh good God no! This was no doubt a generous gesture on Yihui’s part, but she had no idea what kind of a ham-handed brute Prinny could be. He’d treat her like a pig at a county fair. Or a back-alley whore. Neither was acceptable, even from a royal, and so Max rushed forward to forestall the coming disaster.
“This isn’t…” Max’s voice trailed away as he looked into the bedroom. It had been a week since her bath. He’d certainly gotten reports of Yihui’s health multiple times a day. He’d even checked in when he could, making sure not to disturb her sleep. But he’d never seen her like this.
She was seated upright on her bed with pillows behind her back, but she didn’t seem to need them. She sat with her chin lifted, her lips curved in a polite smile, and her hands clasped before her. She dipped her head and pushed her hands forward in a kind of Chinese greeting, and when she straightened, she kept her head lowered but her eyes raised.
The position emphasized the beauty of her dark eyes, even as her head tilt showed her humility. A deferential woman with hauntingly exotic eyes. She was stunning, and for a moment, he was knocked silent.
Not so for Prinny, who blustered forward with a large smile. “My lady, a pleasure to meet you under less formal circumstances. I am so sorry you have been feeling ill.”
“I am honored to greet you,” she said, her English clear enough that Max was strangely proud, as if he had something to do with her language ability.
“How are you feeling?” Prinny continued, his gaze going quite clearly to the lumps beneath the cover that were her feet.
“The duke and his family have treated me well. I am grateful.”
“Max is a good man. His father is a bit more prickly, but Max and I are great friends.”
“We are,” Max inserted. “But perhaps you would be more comfortable downstairs?” He already knew the ploy wouldn’t work, but he had to do something to save Yihui. But apparently, the lady didn’t need rescuing.
“I will show them to you,” she said, her gaze demurely downcast. “But then you must speak to the emperor about how it is wrong.”
Prinny took a moment to fully hear her words, then pulled back with a frown. “Speak to the emperor? The Chinese emperor?”
Yihui dipped her head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The prince pulled a chair close and settled himself upon it. “My lady, you cannot think I can command the Chinese emperor what to do in his own country.”
“You are the leader of this country, yes?”
“Of course, I am, but—”
“You can speak big man to big man. You can say this thing of binding a woman’s feet is wrong.”
The prince shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That would be like me coming into another man’s home and demanding that he do things differently. I have no right to tell him what to do.”
A long silence ensued as everyone—including the prince—realized that he had done exactly that in this house. He had entered and demanded to see a lady in her boudoir. And in the awkward silence, Prinny shot an annoyed look at Max.
“Your home is different. You are my loyal subject.”
“Yes, Your Majesty—”
“I can demand anything I like here,” he kept saying. “But I cannot do such a thing in China.”
Yihui bowed again. “I understand.”
“Of course, you do—” he began.
“And so I cannot show you my country’s shame. If you will not help end it, then I will keep the ugliness from your eyes.”
The prince did not like that answer. He had come all the way here just to see her deformity, and now he straightened as if he were the one insulted.
“But the others have seen it. Max has seen it!”
“Max is to be my husband, yes? He has the right.”
