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I stopped, realizing that I had lost sight of the chief attendant. Spinning around, I found him standing a short distance behind, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at me with intense displeasure.

I bowed—low. While I was unfamiliar with the nuances of palace hierarchy, the chief attendant evidently believed himself my superior. “Thank you for your guidance,” I intoned as respectfully as I could, all the while wondering how many rules I had missed, and if they were of any importance.

To my relief, he unfolded his arms and continued walking. “Should a noble have assumed this position, they would not reside within the palace, instead arriving each morning to accompany His Highness and returning home each evening. However, given your situation, we needed to make some adjustments.” Here the chief attendant sighed as though he had made some onerous concession. “With these additional benefits in mind, in addition to your duties as Prince Liwei’s learning companion, Her Celestial Majesty has commanded that you serve him as well.”

I looked away to hide my confusion, aware of his watchful gaze on me. Was I a glorified attendant, or a disgraced companion? This was not the prize I had won, and I did not think another would be treated so—certainly not Lady Lianbao. Did the empress hope I would take offense and refuse? I was not as weak-willed as that. Despite the shade she had cast over my achievement, I would not storm out in a fit of pique. After serving Lady Meiling, this was no hardship. Moreover, I preferred to earn my keep instead of feeling indebted to Their Celestial Majesties. Perhaps I should have resented my reduced status more, but for this opportunity I would sweep the floors here every day if I had to.

“I would be honored to serve His Highness,” I said.

The chief attendant pursed his lips. “You are honored indeed. Do not forget that. You are to awaken each morning before His Highness rises and help him to dress. You will prepare his tea and arrange his meals. While at mealtimes you may dine with His Highness, serve him before yourself. Do not eat until he takes the first bite. You will accompany him to his classes and training, where you will study alongside him—placing his learning needs above your own, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeated tightly, biting back the choicer words that sprang to my tongue.

Fortunately, we soon entered the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility. How serene it was, without the crowd of spectators and anxiety knotting my insides. Jasmine, wisteria, and peach blossom trees bloomed in the garden, their fragrance delicate and sweet. A waterfall rumbled into a pond which thronged with yellow and orange carp. Overlooking it was the pavilion where the selection had been held, except now a round marble table and several stools were arranged within.

“This is your room.” The chief attendant stopped outside the closed doors of a small building. “One more thing, I urge you to maintain an attentive and respectful manner at all times, creating a harmonious environment for His Highness. During his bath—”

I inhaled sharply, the breath hissing between my lips. “I need to help His Highness with his bath?”

He drew himself up, shooting me a censorious look. “When His Highness is taking his bath, use that time to prepare his books and materials for the following day.” He enunciated each word with painstaking clarity, no doubt taking me for a fool.

I mumbled my thanks, grateful when he left. Sliding the doors open, I entered. The room was spacious and well-furnished with a large wooden bed draped with light blue curtains. Silk scroll paintings hung on the walls, depicting scenes of violet-gray mountains and cypress trees, pheasants and peonies. A large window opened to the courtyard and beside it was a desk, stacked with paper, a set of writing brushes, and a porcelain inkstone. A silk lantern was already lit, throwing its radiance against the dwindling light. I perched on the bed in disbelief, pinching the flesh of my arm. It stung; this was real. I wanted to laugh aloud as I fell back onto the soft mattress. The serenity of this place, broken only by the rhythmic flow of water and the wind rustling through the trees, reminded me of home. And after living with those who had found my every word and gesture wanting, it was a relief to be alone once more.

Undisturbed by past nightmares, I slept through the night until sunlight streamed through my window. The curtains fluttered in the morning breeze, laden with the scent of flowers. There was an unfamiliar lightness in my spirit—the lack of dread, I realized. I had not been aware of the tension coiled within me, until it was gone. Piles of silks and brocade were stacked in the cupboard, and I pulled out a white robe which I fastened around my waist with a length of green satin. Its flowing skirt was embroidered with butterflies and when I ran a knuckle across the smooth stitches of a wing, it fluttered. An enchanted dress. Did this mean my lifeforce was strong? Would I soon learn to use it? My skin tingled at the thought.

Leaving my room, I crossed the courtyard to Prince Liwei’s chambers—the large building across from mine. The wooden doors were lacquered a rich red, latticed with a pattern of circles, interspersed with gilded camelias. Raising my hand, I knocked gently. When there was no response, I rapped harder. After waiting a short while, I slid it open, anxious to not be late. It was dim inside, thick brocade drawn across the windows and around the rosewood bed in the far corner. Prince Liwei must still be asleep. My heart beat quicker as I stepped into the room, a floorboard creaking beneath my feet.

“Your Highness, I was instructed to wake you at this hour.” My voice came out thin and uncertain, his title stiff against my tongue. Recalling the chief attendant’s lecture, I sank to my knees, folding myself over until my forehead thumped clumsily against the hard floor.

Silence greeted me in return. I shifted, wondering how one might “respectfully” awaken a prince. The bed curtains rustled, a moment before they were pulled away. Lifting my head, my eyes locked onto his. Heat rushed into my face when I realized he wore just his white underrobe.

“Tea,” I blurted. “Do you want some tea, Your Highness?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, yawning as his hair fell loosely across his shoulders. “What are you doing on the floor? Rise, there’s no need to kneel. You weren’t nearly as respectful when we first met.”

“Only because I didn’t know who you were. You shouldn’t sneak up on people without warning or a procession, or . . . whatever you usually do. It’s most inconsiderate and unfair of—” Too late, did I shut my mouth. He had a knack for needling me.

He grinned, looking unexpectedly pleased. “I’m glad the person I met by the river is still here. You seemed different a moment ago. So . . . deferential.”

I bared my clenched teeth in more a grimace than a smile. “Tea, Your Highness?”

“Ah. Yes please.” But then a strange expression flitted across his face. “Could you ask someone from the kitchen to prepare it? I’m not sure I could drink your ‘unique’ brew a second time.”

Caught between laughter and mortification, I hurried to the kitchen, retracing my steps from yesterday. A rich and savory aroma wafted from the simmering pots of porridge, the pans sizzling with crescent-shaped dumplings. Distracted, I almost collided into an attendant carrying a steaming bowl of soup. He shot me a fearsome glare, his mouth opening to scold me, but someone grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

It was a girl in the purple robe of a kitchen attendant. Her cheeks had the rounded curves of an apple and her black hair was coiled into a bun.

“Best to stay out of his way. He thinks he’s better than the rest of us because he serves the empress.” Her chestnut brown eyes darted to me. “I’m Minyi. Are you new? What do you do? Whom do you serve?”

I paused, taken aback by her inquisitiveness. But I detected no malice in her, just curiosity and an openness which reminded me of Ping’er. “Prince Liwei,” I replied.

“Ah, so you’re the one who displeased Her Celestial Majesty.”

My mouth went dry, the smell of food now turning my stomach. How quickly the news had spread.

She patted my hand. “Don’t worry. Her Celestial Majesty disapproves of almost everyone. Now, was there something you or His Highness needed?”

“Just breakfast. And tea, for His Highness,” I said, recovering myself.