Chapter 3
Bo Tao grimaced at the noise coming from the virgin’s palace. Sixty girls had passed the first examination and gained entrance into the Forbidden City. Sixty virgins covered in finery and oozing hope. Sixty women who had no idea that they would traverse a twisting maze of political intrigue just to find an outhouse. The pathway to the Emperor’s bedchamber would be much more dangerous.
He closed his eyes, seeing in his mind the faces of the virgins one after the other. He remembered the sobbing rejected ones and the smug wealthy ones. But bit by bit, their features all slid into one face, one girl who intrigued him as no other: Chen Ji Yue of the strong legs and fierce expression.
He’d been more amused than angry after she’d unceremoniously kicked him into the muck. Who’d have thought a little thing like her could shove the great Bo Tao into the dirt? Even the porters’ mocking laughter hadn’t truly soured his mood.
No, that came later. About three minutes later when he realized he would have to walk the rest of the way to the Forbidden City. And he had to do so with muddy torn clothing, a queue that was greased with slime, and a bruise on his hindquarters that ached with every step. All because a vulgar daughter of a poor bannerman decided he did not belong in her palanquin.
He knew this was not a rational anger; he had caused his own difficulties. He had gotten into an argument with the Emperor last night. The man refused to face the threat of opium, called all the foreigners white devils (which wasn’t helpful in negotiations), and was as irritable as a wet cat at the idea of choosing an Empress. But most of all, he hated Bo Tao trying to force him to deal with these issues.
So after the disagreement, Bo Tao had snuck out and gotten thoroughly drunk. He knew of an old, unused palanquin rarely used and stored nearby. A perfect place to sleep off a bad night. Except somehow it had ended up being used to transport Miss Chen. And he had ended up hungover and sitting in the muck.
Which made him furious.
Even though he was Master of the Festival, he didn’t care which girl made it into the Forbidden City. So long as she was docile and fertile, she was supremely unimportant. Everyone, that is, except Chen Ji Yue.
He would see her punished out of spite. At least that had been his plan. Hours later, after he’d changed his clothing and cleaned his face, after dozens of girls had been weighed and rejected, after tedious tears or joyful squeals, she had finally shown up.
He’d seen the horror on her face when she realized who he was. She’d known she was doomed from that moment, but her pert little chin had lifted in defiance. Her assets were tallied according to her ability to bribe, her ancestry was delineated, and the Dowager Consort was about to give her reluctant blessing. Bo Tao’s moment was at hand. He would simply step up and refuse her on some ridiculous pretext. His aching feet had been waiting all day just for that very moment.
Until the Tally Eunuch upstaged him. There were dozens of flaws to pick from. Her large feet or her pointy chin, forexample. But the damn man had to go and pick on the one thing that wasnother fault: that a man had been in her palanquin.
Bo Tao had almost spoken up then. Surely, the man had seen any of her other flaws. Her tendency to speak when she ought to remain silent, for example. The way she scrabbled in the dirt for her etched stone. There were a million reasons she was not fit to birth an emperor.
But none of them had seen what he saw. None of them knew to criticize her fierce nature. All they saw was another girl begging to be admitted to the Forbidden City. And he could not speak out against her character without revealing that he had been the one kicked into the dust.
Which meant that he had to defend her.
It had nothing to do with her excellent strategy or his surprise that a woman could think ahead enough to plan a defense. She was clearly a clever girl, and he admired that. So he’d spoken up. Because of his efforts, she was now an Imperial Virgin and the Emperor’s property. Which meant, of course, she was completely cut off from her family and friends, beset on all sides by her competitors, and he–as Master of the Festival–was the only path to her goal.
Did he dare toy with his best friend’s property? The temptation burned in his gut. But he was beyond such childish games, he told himself. His attention was on the larger matters of state. No woman–certainly not a mouthy virgin–could tempt him away from that. His work–however unofficial–was more important. And yet, he couldn’t resist thinking about her delectable lips, the saucy sway of her hips, and that last look she’d given him as she walked into the Forbidden City. It was part challenge, part interest, and wholly compelling.
Did he dare? Could he resist? Especially since she now owed him for his help. Bo Tao began to grin. Tomorrow’s Physical Exam would be his next opportunity with the delectableVirgin Ji Yue.
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“Why are you so lazy?” bellowed a male voice much too early the next the morning. “An
Empress must be ready at all hours of the day and night!”
Ji Yue gasped and sat bolt upright in her bed. She threw back the covers and put her feet to the floor before she realized how inappropriate that response was. Her roommate–Hua Si of the long gold necklace which was now a choker–acted as a maiden ought: she pulled the covers up to her chin and trembled in fear at a man’s presence in her room. But Ji Yue was poised to act for all that she stood in her white night shift in front of...
Sun Bo Tao, the Master of the Festival. He stood at the doorway of their box-like room and smirked as he stared at her bare calves and feet. Then his gaze traveled upwards, and she felt the heat of his perusal slide up her legs, around her hips, and then to the tips of her pointed breasts.
“How dare you enter my chamber!” she snapped as she quickly whipped the blanket off her bed and around her shoulders.
He arched his brows. “I am the Master here,” he drawled, somehow making his words suggestive. “I dare whatever I wish.”
Ji Yue trembled even as her toes curled in delight as his dark words. She should not be intrigued by him, but he had tortured her already in her dreams. She had quivered beneath his gaze and trembled at his hold on her ankle. So his presence now seemed a simple continuation of his dreamtime seduction. But she could not allow him to distract her! She lifted her chin and faced him eye to eye as a future Empress.
“I am the Emperor’s concubine!” she responded tartly. “It is not seemly for you to see my sleeping attire.”
“Ha!” he barked. “You are no concubine yet! And no one has privacy in the Forbidden City.”
True enough. Eunuchs were everywhere. Even in the virgin’s palace, they stood silent sentry over bathing, dressing, even peeing. “A virgin, however, requires modesty,” she retorted. “As I am awake now, your task is done. You may go wake the others.”
