It was mutilated beyond repair. The jade stones were missing and the gold wire was twisted. She looked at the misshapen thing in her palm and something inside her broke. She began to cry, and once the tears began, they would not stop.
He tried to speak to her. She couldn’t understand the words, but she heard his tone. He sounded much like her father had that day long ago when she’d broken her arm: alarmed, anxious, and completely uncertain as to what to do. In the end, he simply swept her legs out from under her, then carried her from the virgins’ palace. She didn’t know where he was taking her, and frankly she didn’t care. His arms were larger than her mother’s, his voice was deeper than her father’s, but the comfort was the same. His touch was as tender theirs, and she wanted nothing more than to stay held there forever.
Then he stopped walking. He stood still for a momentwhile she listened to the steady beat of his heart. She liked the regular lift and lower of his broad chest. Then he eased down on a bench, gently resting her on his lap.
“We are alone now,” he said. “You can cry as much as you like.”
She smiled and wished she could rub her face against the skin on his neck, but his collar prevented it. “I am done crying,” she said, her voice raw. Instead, her mind was consumed by the feel of his arms, the warmth of his body, and the strength that surrounded her so completely that she thought she could never be harmed again. “Don’t leave me yet.”
He tightened his grip around her. “Are you sure you don’t need to see the physician?” he asked. With her ear pressed to his chest, his voice was an echoing rumble like the sound of thunder in the distance.
“I am fine so long as you hold me.”
He didn’t answer, except to lean back enough to settle her even more deeply into his arms. She smiled, happy to think of nothing beyond him. But that thought led to others. Her heart beat harder, and she remembered another time when his hands had been on her body, when his chest had been pressed tight to her back, and his hands...
“Where are we?” she asked by way of distraction. She knew they sat in a dark bower of sorts. She could feel the breeze, but in the darkness, she could see little more than the stone bench upon which he sat.
“It is a garden near the Emperor’s palace.”
She jerked in alarm. “But he cannot see me like this!”
His grip tightened on her, keeping her in place. “No one comes here at night but me. Certainly not Yi Zhen. And even if he did, we would hear him long before they could see us.”
Reassured, she relaxed back against him, acutely aware of the way his thighs rippled as he adjusted to her. And of theburning heat pressed intimately against her.
“But where is this place?” she asked.
“It is my aunt’s garden. Well, not specifically hers, but she was the only one who tended it.”
She frowned. “You have an aunt in the Forbidden City?”
He nodded. She was part of Emperor Dao Guang’s lowest harem. That is how I came to be friends with Yi Zhen. My mother was visiting her sister. One day, I escaped them and found him.”
Ji Yue smiled. “My brothers often escaped me as well.” She straightened, abruptly intrigued by the idea of meeting one of Bo Tao’s relatives. “May I meet your aunt tomorrow? I would love to talk with her. I like gardening, too, and would often help the workers when I was little.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. My aunt was selected to be buried with the Emperor.”
She swallowed, understanding the harsh fate that sometimes awaited members of an imperial harem. Being buried alive with the Emperor was one of the worst. Still, she spoke the words that were expected of her. “She was greatly honored.”
Bo Tao grimaced. “I have never thought it much of an honor, but I know she believed it.”
Ji Yue sighed, uneasy with the idea of what could very well become her own fate some day. “Did she... Was she awake in the tomb?”
“I hope not. I brought her poison sealed in a perfume bottle. She should have fallen asleep then died quickly while at rest.” He took a deep breath, and Ji Yue felt it shudder inside him. “I hope it went like that. We will never know if it did not.”
“I’m sure it did. I’m sure she was very grateful.”
His hands tightened on her, and so she went where he silently urged her: back into his arms. She listened to the nightbirds and the whisper of the wind through the leaves. But mostly, she felt the wildness building inside her again. Would he touch her like he had before? She shouldn’t want him to, but she did. She should be aching for the Emperor’s caress, the Emperor’s hot press of body and groin, the Emperor’s...
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes,” she lied. In truth, she was beginning to feel an ache deep in her womb. It was shame. She was ashamed that her thoughts lingered on a very un-virgin-like desire for the absolutely wrong man.
“Do you think you could walk?” he asked. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Yes, of course.” She reluctantly shifted out of his arms, standing carefully. Her clothing was torn in a dozen places and her hair constantly strayed into her eyes, but she didn’t care. Despite the conflicting emotions inside her, this night had taken on a magical quality, and she did not want it to end even if she walked around in rags.
“It is not far, but it requires a little bit of climbing. I will not be able to carry you.”
