Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Mundane conversation. It was good. It would keep my mind off the unladylike pose. Maybe.

  “I would have rather given you a lute that has been in my family for decades. Unfortunately, I had to borrow this one from the refugees.”

  I ran a hand over the wood. The varnish had faded in some places, and several scuffs scarred its belly. I shook my head. “You gave this one with the best of intentions. I will treasure it for that alone.” Even if I might never be allowed to play it in my new husband’s home.

  He pressed his hands together. “You are too kind. Now—”

  Secretary Hong cleared his throat. “If I may, Your Excellency, why did you abandon the princess at the Temple of Heaven?”

  Prince Hardeep shook his head. “I drew off the assassins.”

  So that’s why he had abandoned me. No, not abandoned me, but protected me. Again.

  “Now, Princess,” he said, “straighten your back, let your shoulders relax. Rest the resonator on the floor.”

  I looked at the foreign instrument in my hands. He had not been nearly as meticulous at the Temple of Heaven two nights before.

  “In the Ayuri South, just as a warrior must become one with his weapon, we believe the performer must become one with her instrument.”

  I nodded. My teachers had said pretty much the same thing.

  “Cradle it as if it were your own baby.”

  I nearly dropped the lute. As if I had ever held a baby before; and to think I might very well be cradling my own in less than a year. Truth be told, the bawling babies brought to court by the great hereditary lords provided plenty of disincentive in that regard. Even when they had grown a little older, the snot-nosed brats lacked manners.

  Hardeep cleared his throat, drawing my attention to him. He wore an amused smile. “Your arms are too rigid, and if that is holding a baby…you are choking its neck. Relax.”

  He drew in behind me. His body heat radiated into my back as he adjusted the instrument’s position. I closed my eyes and listened for his heartbeat. Slow, powerful, like a spring-fed river sloshing against a dam. Fireworks burst in multiple explosions all through my core. So much for relaxation. It would be easier holding the low horse stance under Doctor Wu’s glare than to concentrate with him so close.

  Around me, the imperial guards’ tension wound tighter than a dwarven coil. Hands gripped sword hilts. His head craned over my shoulder, his chin just a hair’s breadth away from my neck. “Here,” he said, breath warm on my ear. His hand covered mine as he loosened my fingers around the lute’s neck. The jolt from my hand went up my arm and into my heart. It might have skipped a beat or three.

  Blades swept out as the imperial guards closed in as fast as a viper strike.

  Prince Hardeep jumped back, hands in the air. “I am sorry.”

  “He was just helping me hold the lute correctly.” I waved the guards off.

  They froze in aggressive stances, a sword’s distance away from the prince. A low growl emitted from deep in one of their throats.

  Secretary Hong’s voice wobbled, whether from nervousness or his halting Ayuri or a combination of both. “Your Excellency, you may instruct, but do not touch.”

  Prince Hardeep pressed his palms together. “I apologize. I will do my best, but I must say that it is very hard to teach if I cannot help the princess feel the instrument.”

  Yes, feel the instrument… I banished thoughts of Hardeep caressing me like his lute.

  “You will have to make do.” The rigid line of Secretary Hong’s lips, along with the lack of apology in his tone, left no doubt as to what he really thought.

  The residual heat from Prince Hardeep’s closeness clung to my back, tingling and percolating through me with the same slow, resolute pulsation. Maybe distance was for the better. If the prince remained so close, there would be no way I could concentrate on learning how to play.

  The next hour dragged on like sweet torture. Hardeep would come tantalizingly close, making my pulse race and palms sweat. It took all my effort to keep my fingers from slipping on the lute’s neck. Never before had I felt such a connection with a man, and to have him so close. Oh, for him envelop me in those strong arms, to brush his lips across my neck! A primal heat erupted deep inside me, making me squirm.

  Each time he got too close, the imperial guards reacted within a split second, assuming offensive stances. He would ultimately raise his hands and back away with a bow. The constant tease left every one of my nerves on edge. It was nothing short of a miracle I learned anything.

  If my nerves were on edge, the guards’ must be even more so. Instead of the usual near-motionlessness and stoic expressions, their fierce scowls could have rivaled the dragon etched into each of their breastplates. Poor old Secretary Hong hunched over, and Meiling shuffled on her feet.

  Still, in the short time, I managed to learn a few simple folk songs, as well as parts of a far more complicated piece. When he played it himself, the complex chords, rapid changes in pitch, and extreme key ranges left my head spinning.

  Limbs languid, my bony bottom aching from sitting for so long, and my entire body still hot with desire, I looked up at him. “Your Excellency, it is almost time for me to go.”

  He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe try it one more time. Do as the book you read says. Let your heart project your emotions into the song.”

  I held back a sigh. The only emotion I could project right now would be embarrassingly wanton lust. Or maybe irritability and exhaustion. I looked around. From their slouching, Secretary Hong, Meiling, and the imperial guards felt equally irritable and fatigued.

  “I would wager since they already feel tired, it would make them more so.” He grinned.

  Perhaps. I closed my eyes and listened for their hearts. There…a cacophonous chorus of erratic thumps. I had never noticed before, at least not until Lord Xu had pointed them out on the castle walls earlier in the day. Among them, Hardeep’s heart remained steady and powerful.

  “Don’t tax yourself,” he said. “Relax. Listen to nothing except your own music.”

  Opening my eyes, I nodded. Still, though he might enjoy music, and might have read that single passage from the book, he certainly would know nothing of projecting power through borrowing other sound as Lord Xu had taught.

  I closed my eyes and listened again. The collective heartbeats rung in my ears, all waves for my exhaustion to ride on. Loosening my stiff, tired fingers, I played the first frame of Hardeep’s song. The chords came out crisp. The changes in pitch resonated clearly. Aligning my spine and joints, feeling the ground through my behind, I continued. The sound filled the hall.

  Behind me, Secretary Hong yawned.

  I continued strumming and plucking, my own fatigue percolating through my core. The minister’s robes ruffled as he dropped to a knee. The imperial guards wobbled in place. Heavens, it was working!

  And there, among my own music and the beating of all the men’s hearts, Hardeep’s own heart throbbed with strength. Borrow that, as I had the sounds in the garden earlier, and it might be possible to magnify the effect.

  “Sing!” Hardeep said. “Let me hear your beautiful voice.”

  Sing! Yes, the lute begged for an accompaniment, like the interplay between my masters’ pipa and erhu. I raised my voice in song, letting the lute’s melody guide me. Energy welled inside me, climbing toward crescendo. My spirit soared with it.

  Hardeep smiled, his blue irises twinkling.

  No! Breath hitching on the notes, my voice cracked. It was like trudging up the snowy slopes of Jade Mountain on an empty stomach. My own heart refused to maintain the power. All energy drained from my arms. My spine, held erect for so long, finally gave out. Gasping, I slumped over the lute.

  My gasp echoed the others around the room. I turned to see many of them crumpling over as well. The imperial guards knelt on one knee, their fists on the ground not in salute, but rather to prop themselves u
p.

  I’d done it! This time without the use of a musical instrument imbued with an innate power, no longer in a place with perfect acoustics. A cool wave washed over me, and I filled my lungs as if it would help keep me sitting straight.

  Hardeep crawled over to my side, panting. His words came out in gasps. “Very good, princess. Perhaps with more practice and the Dragon Scale Lute, you could repel even Avarax.” He slumped over, the side of his head plopping on my lap and his hair splaying out in a blossom of silky tendrils. The warmth—no, the blazing heat—burned through the silk of both gowns and into my legs. A fever?

  Behind me, the imperial guards stirred, but made no move to intervene.

  I pushed the lute over and rested it on the floor. Running a hand through Hardeep’s glossy black hair, I brushed it aside to reveal the bronze tone of his neck, smooth, save for a dark oval scar in one spot. So smooth, and…kissable. His eyes were closed, partially concealed by yet more of his voluminous hair.

  I swept it over, pausing on his forehead. It was hot, for sure. Too hot. I beckoned Secretary Hong, now just regaining his feet. “Call a palace physician. No, Doctor Wu, if she is in the palace.”

  Secretary Hong said, “Your Highness, she is searching for the Dragon Scale Lute.”

  That didn’t make sense. Why would a doctor look for a musical instrument? I fixed him with an imperious stare. “It doesn’t matter, any doctor then. Prince Hardeep needs help. He has a fever from the fatigue. He needs acupuncture.”

  Hardeep’s eyelids flapped open. “No. No acupuncture.”

  With a giggle, I brushed a hand over his cheek. To think an almost-Paladin, who had dared face two imperial guards unarmed, would be scared of thin little needles. “It’s okay, Prince Hardeep. They don’t hurt. Your fever will break with just a few needles.”

  Behind me, the guards muttered. They were finding their feet.

  “I will be all right.” Prince Hardeep pushed himself off my lap and scuttled back. “I just need some rest. You, too. It has been a long day of hard practice. Rest and don’t practice again tonight. I will find a way to meet you tomorrow.”

  Secretary Hong looked at us. The wrinkles around his eyes and jowls stood out in lines of black against his wan complexion. He turned, shuffled back toward the entrance, and beckoned someone in.

  A palace official, a Foreign Ministry secretary from the markings on his robes, entered and bowed low. “Lord Peng petitioned the Emperor. He has graciously allowed the Blind Musician to stay in these guest quarters.”

  Outside the doors, other officials were taking down Madura’s banners. Such an honor! Guest quarters were usually reserved for visiting dignitaries from Cathay’s largest trading partners, and certainly not for a musician with no name. If Hardeep were on the palace grounds, there might be some way to meet again tonight. Even if this pavilion was a good walk from the inner castle and imperial residence.

  Gaining his feet, Hardeep pressed his palms together. “I thank you for your hospitality, but my effects are in Lord Peng’s villa. I will retire there for the night.”

  The secretary clucked his tongue. “To refuse the Emperor’s hospitality would be in very poor form. We have a fine meal prepared for you, as well as several Night Blossoms from the Floating World.”

  My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Renowned for their beauty and grace, the Night Blossoms would make Hardeep forget all about me. Not to mention they would freely offer what I could not.

  Maybe I could.

  Nineteen

  Women’s Secrets

  Approaching the Phoenix Garden with the two imperial guards and Secretary Hong, I listened to the stream rustling toward the courtyard’s central pond. Still, all I could hear were my inner insecurities. The beautiful and elegant Night Blossoms would make my Hardeep forget all about my flat body and plain face. Maybe he was already wrapped in their arms, preparing to personally hand me to Lord Tong.

  I blinked away the tears blurring my vision. Another beauty came into focus, rubbing salt into my self-confidence’s open wound. Wearing an elegant floral gown, Crown Princess Xiulan sat in an open pagoda overlooking the pond. Several handmaidens, including Meiling, stood at a respectful distance. Two of my imperial guards at the edge of the garden melded with the background. The scent of roasted pork and garlic-steamed vegetables wafted on a breeze.

  Gently illuminated by a shuttered light bauble in the pagoda ceiling, Xiulan stood with a smile. “You’re late,” she called.

  Because of Hardeep’s lessons. If only there had been more time. While Secretary Hong and the two guards came to a stop at the garden’s edge, I lowered my head as I walked up the path to the pagoda. “Forgive me, Eldest Sister.”

  “Your handmaiden informed me of your…visit. Come, sit.” With a graceful wave of her hand, Xiulan indicated a porcelain garden seat by a stone table built into the center of the pagoda.

  How much had Meiling said? How many ears had heard? How many people knew that a just-betrothed princess had allowed a foreign man so close? Almost close enough to touch. The memory of his lips within a hairbreadth from my neck sent my heart fluttering.

  I shook the image out of my head and looked at the meal. Artfully arranged food graced porcelain dishes. My stomach rumbled in the most unladylike fashion. Playing music much of the day, and then the audience with Father in front of all the lords, had left me hungry and drained. With no semblance of grace, I plopped down.

  In contrast, nonchalantly graceful as a weeping willow, Xiulan settled on her own seat. She lifted a teakettle and filled my cup. When she set the kettle down, I picked it up and poured tea into Xiulan’s cup. Some of it splashed.

  How embarrassing! I bowed my head in apology.

  “It’s okay.” Xiulan placed a hand on mine. “You have had a long day.”

  And the last hour had felt like a full day of sweet torture. My face flushed at the thought of Hardeep. Thank the Heavens my head was down to hide it.

  “You are thinking about him, aren’t you?” Xiulan’s voice carried concern, but no accusation. How did she know?

  I let out a long sigh. “I have never met any man like him. Beyond his handsomeness, his voice is so sweet. He might be a foreigner, but his eyes hypnotize me.” Making me feel beautiful. I looked up.

  Xiulan gawked, all her usual poise scattered to the four winds. It was if we were holding two different conversations. Oh, Heavens, Xiulan must not have been referring to Hardeep.

  Covering my mouth, I turned to the handmaidens and guards. If they had heard… Well, Xiulan already had, Meiling already knew, and my confession had left no ambiguity.

  “Oh, Heavens,” Xiulan said with a stuttered whisper. She placed a hand on her chest. “You are enamored with the foreigner.”

  Enamored? It sounded so shallow. It had to be love. Yes, I admitted it. If I could lower my head any more, my face would be in the food. And my appetite had just fled with my last vestige of dignity.

  Xiulan squeezed my hand. “I was mistaken.” Surprisingly, there was no rebuke in her tone.

  I hazarded a glance up.

  Xiulan smiled. “Let me tell you a secret. Before I was betrothed to your brother, my father’s most trusted Yu-Ming wanted me to marry his first son. He was a handsome young man, and our parents had arranged a chance meeting so no one would lose face if things didn’t work out.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “They did.”

  My pulse quickened. Kai-Guo and Xiulan made such a beautiful couple, even more so considering the imperial nature of their marriage. If any relationship provided even a semblance of hope, it was theirs. To think there had been someone before. I edged forward on my seat. “What happened?”

  Xiulan sighed. “The Emperor asked to strengthen the ties between our families. How could my father refuse?”

  “And the Yu-Ming heir?” I tried to keep my voice low through my excitement.

  “My father forbade him from contacting me.” Xiulan leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. “But we
maintained correspondence through one of my handmaidens and his page. It was a passionate exchange.”

  Was that a suggestion to defy the Emperor’s orders and maintain an illicit communication with Prince Hardeep? I cocked my head. “And now?”

  Xiulan laughed. “As soon as Kai-Guo and I were married, the lord’s son broke contact. Not for fear of punishment, but because of his integrity. He would have ended things whether my husband was Crown Prince or a beggar.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” The mixed signals made frustrating knot puzzles look simple in comparison.

  “No reason, except to share a secret with my little sister.” Xiulan covered her giggle. “The decision is yours. Though realistically, as an imperial princess, you would not be allowed to marry a foreigner, even if you weren’t already betrothed.”

  I let a sigh escape. Of course that was the case, no matter how much I might want to believe otherwise. Hardeep and I would never be together.

  “Kaiya, I used to think about that young lord in the first months of my marriage. However, I soon grew to adore your brother.”

  After meeting someone as charming as Hardeep, I didn’t think I could ever love another. I peered into my teacup. “What do you know of Lord Tong?”

  Breath hitching, Xiulan shifted in her seat. I looked up. Dear Sister-In-Law’s lips pursed. Her expression darkened.

  “Tell me.” My voice cracked. Rebel or not, he might still be a kind man.

  “His late wife was a friend of my mother. She was spirited in her youth, but marriage broke her.”

  “Marriage is a woman’s grave.” My sweaty hands tightened into fists.

  Xiulan shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be. No, Lord Tong is well-known for his depravity. Several of the houses in the Floating World have banned him for fear of what he might do to their Night Blossoms.”

  My chest tightened. What had I gotten myself into? I summoned the memory of Hardeep, so close, nearly pressed against my back as he taught me the lute. Run away. There was still time to run away.

  “Which brings me to the reason the Emperor asked me to meet privately with you tonight.” Xiulan reached back to the seats built into the pagoda’s sides and retrieved a silk-wrapped package. “Doctor Wu said Heaven’s Dew will arrive soon. I think that might explain your sudden interest in foreign princes.”