by Jeannie Lin
‘Our bargain,’ she echoed.
‘Which you are obviously no longer happy with.’
She could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to control his agitation. She didn’t want that control. She needed to see what emotions he hid underneath, but he would never let go. Emotion was weak. It was without purpose.
‘I don’t have your way with words, Lady Ling, so tell me plainly what you want.’
He continued to touch her, belying his dark mood. He massaged the arch of her foot as he spoke, sending another web of sensation to tease her senses. Physicians taught that there were hundreds of pressure points in the foot, centres of pleasure and energy. Li Tao seemed to find each one.
‘I want more.’ She hated the note of desperation she heard there. It was hard to think when he was watching her so intently, yet caressing her with such tenderness, even while he was clearly unhappy with her tantrum. ‘I want something more than the waiting and these few hours together.’
‘There is nothing more.’
Her eyes narrowed and she shook her ankle free of his grasp.
He leaned back against the wall, resigned. ‘I can see the Emperor’s protection is no longer a suitable option for you.’
‘Shen may be forced to order your execution. Do you think I want to be under his control?’
He frowned, but the wound she inflicted didn’t give her as much satisfaction as she’d hoped. He took some time considering his next words and a small hope grew inside her.
‘If you won’t go to Shen, I can assign soldiers to protect you,’ he began.
War. Still thinking of territory and battles. The disaster could be diverted, she had to believe that, but she couldn’t make him see any differently, no matter what she did.
‘I’ll send you far enough away that the strife never comes to you. I can’t afford to spare a single man, but I’ll do it for you. You can spend the rest of your life with whatever wealth you need. Would that make you happy?’
She had never known the answer to that question. Suyin lay back down and dragged the cover up to her chin. ‘All I want is to sleep right now. That would make me happy.’ She squeezed her eyes shut.
Li Tao didn’t move right away and she had to force herself to remain still, eyes closed, wondering with each heartbeat what he would do next. When he finally stood, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from sobbing. If he had moved into the bed and put his arms around her, she would have succumbed in a heartbeat. She would have forgotten this argument and buried her face against his chest. But she couldn’t ignore the threat any longer.
He took a long time to leave, moving about the room. She heard the sounds of something heavy being dragged near the bed and couldn’t resist peeking. Li Tao bent over a brazier, lighting the coals to warm the room for her. It must have been the influence of heartless women like Madame Ling that allowed her to keep from calling to him.
He straightened once the coals were smouldering and took hold of the lantern with one hand. ‘Was it what happened this morning that has you upset?’
They weren’t even battling on the same ground. He didn’t understand her at all.
She rolled over and presented her back squarely to him, hip jutting in a sharp point in the air. The warmth of his kindness faded like morning fog in the sun. Every one of Li Tao’s solutions ended with her being sent away. There could be no future for them, not in his mind. But that was what she wanted above all else, wasn’t it? She needed to protect herself first.
She was indeed a heartless woman. But he was a witless man.
Chapter Fourteen
Li Tao took a moment to smooth out the folds of his tunic and straighten his sleeves with two sharp tugs before pulling his chamber door open. The unexpected presence of someone in the hallway elevated him to heightened awareness. He reached for the sleeve sword a moment before recognising Suyin’s silhouette in the dim corridor.
‘I had to rise especially early to catch you,’ she said, oblivious of any danger. ‘You usually leave before dawn.’
She wore a simple, unadorned blue-grey robe, and her hair had been pulled up into a loose knot. Her mouth remained soft and unpainted. She stood before him with a fresh openness that made her seem almost youthful. He wanted to draw her back into his chamber.
‘I have given some thought into what you should give me—as my gift,’ she added brightly.
‘Your gift?’ There had been no talk of anything of the sort.
‘I want you to give me a day,’ she continued. ‘Today, actually.’
He folded his arms over his chest, in no mood to be charmed. ‘They’ll say I’ve been bewitched like the August Emperor, that I’ve forgotten all duty in my unnatural obsession with you.’
Her frown was immediate. ‘What do you care about rumours?’
‘Suyin.’ He pinched at the spot between his eyes, willing the perpetual ache that had settled there to go away. ‘Do you understand what is happening around us?’
‘Of course I do. You’ll be no match for Gao if you drive yourself to exhaustion.’
Thoughts of tactics and fortifications slipped from his mind as she pressed close to his side. The scent of jasmine and morning dew settled over him. If not for that baffling quarrel, he would have woken to her. They would have woken up to each other, but now he had to go.
‘We should see each other in the daylight,’ she coaxed. ‘Not only in darkness like thieves.’
‘Interesting way to say it.’
She curved her arm around his and urged him towards the courtyard, the look in her eyes unguarded and eager. He allowed himself to be led to the pavilion in the centre of the garden. The household lay in the last dregs of sleep before sunrise. He settled on to the bench and glanced up at her. Her skin shone with a pale brightness in the early morning. The crisp air brought a tinge of pink to her cheeks.
‘I’ll have tea prepared. Wait here.’
He watched her float to the kitchen, enjoying the infectious energy in her step. Her clear voice chimed from within and he imagined Cook’s gruff reply. No one could resist Ling Suyin when she wanted her way.
She returned to sit across from him, folding her hands before her contentedly. For the moment, they sat regarding one another in the daylight, as she’d requested.
The excitement threatened to burst from her. ‘I don’t wish to be indoors at all today. We should see the bamboo forest, as much of it as possible.’
‘I can’t stay long,’ he told her.
She went on regardless. ‘Auntie tells me there are temples on the cliffs. And black-and-white xióng mo in the shade of the mountainside, feeding on the bamboo shoots.’
‘They’re very reclusive.’
‘Like you.’
Her eyes sparkled as she teased him. Why this pleasantness now, when she couldn’t stand the sight of him the night before? It would have made him wary, but he was too exhausted to be wary. At least of Suyin.
Cook brought the tray out to them himself, setting a plate of steamed buns on to the table. The old man arranged the cups and poured the tea, then nodded to them before shuffling back to his beloved kitchen.
She sipped at her tea while he watched, transfixed. There was always an effortless grace about her, especially in the most mundane of tasks.
‘Auntie tells me this emerald tea is from Zhejiang. Good for increasing your energy and clearing your head.’
He lifted the cup and drank, barely tasting the steaming liquid. His head was anything but clear that morning. Suyin glanced at him over the rim of her cup and his chest clenched, a needle of pleasure piercing through.
‘Every time I look at you, I discover something new to catch my attention,’ he said.
No doubt she was accustomed to being scrutinised, so he was surprised when she blushed with pleasure. Her hands fluttered nervously as she pushed the dish of steamed buns closer to him.
‘Please, eat.’
He picked at the bread, taking deliberate bites and chewing. She
ate across from him in silence, her movements small and bird-like.
‘You never share any meals with anyone,’ she said. ‘It’s quite disturbing. I even once considered that I had made a bargain with a demon lover, like at the costume opera.’
The corner of his mouth lifted. ‘You have an imagination.’
‘But you are a man after all and not a demon.’
‘We can share an occasional meal together, if you wish.’
He was content to sit back and let her fill the conversation with inane chatter. It gave him a momentary reprieve from thoughts of fortifications and the positioning of the troops along the Long River.
‘You’re thinking of what you would usually be doing right now,’ she ventured. ‘Riding out and seeing to your domain.’
‘Yes.’
Her pleasant smile never wavered. ‘You’d rather be doing that. This idleness is torturing you.’
He didn’t answer. ‘What did you want to discuss last night?’ he deflected.
‘Later, later. We have all day, do we not?’
Her form of persuasion was gently insistent. It disturbed him how much he wanted to indulge her. It lightened his spirit to see her smiling. Happiness was one emotion Suyin couldn’t fabricate effectively, no matter how practised she was.
‘Let us go before the sun is high.’ She came to take his arm again as they stood, as if he’d escape if she didn’t hold on to him. Her eyes were bright with excitement as she looked up, her impulsive energy almost child-like.
Reports indicated Gao had sent an envoy of five thousand men. Shen at least an equal number, perhaps greater. A bit more than one would expect for a peaceful diplomatic visit. They were only two weeks’ march away.
He found himself nodding, conceding to her. All Suyin wanted was a day and they had few left between them.
The footpath cut deep into the bamboo grove, the air surrounding them damp and cool in the shade. Li Tao remained characteristically taciturn beside her. Every stone tormented her feet through the thin soles of her slippers, but she didn’t want to complain. The path began to climb upwards and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked for so long without stopping.
‘Are we going far?’ she asked mildly.
Li Tao looked back to where she had stopped. ‘Do you need to rest?’
‘A little while.’
Despite the coolness of the forest, she dabbed the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. The bamboo stalks climbed upwards until they disappeared to a point in the sky. Sunlight only pierced the forest in tiny pockets. The endless green was making her dizzy.
He came back to her side. ‘I can carry you.’
She cast him a slanted look. ‘You’re leading me this way to torment me.’
The slight smile he gave was barely an answer, but he slowed his pace when they resumed walking. She took his arm again and this time his fingers curled around hers. Her chest shouldn’t swell with happiness like it did, having him walk beside her as they spoke of nothing. In these moments, she almost glimpsed what it would be to sink comfortably into a life together. To be old and grey like Auntie and strolling through the garden on Li Tao’s arm. To hear the laughter of grandchildren.
Whose dream had she borrowed? It couldn’t have been her own.
They emerged on to a plateau overlooking the valley and the breath rushed out of her. The bamboo forest shimmered below, stretching outwards to touch the edge of the sky in the distance. The wind stirred the fronds in gentle waves. The slight rustle even sounded like water.
‘A person almost could forget their sorrows here,’ she murmured.
Li Tao came to stand beside her and, for the moment, they were the only people on earth beneath the sun and the clouds. She wished desperately for him to put his arms around her, but he kept his hands clasped behind him as he looked meditatively over the emerald sea. He was always so controlled. Only in the bedchamber did his restraint begin to crumble. His eyes would grow dark when he moved within her, falling closed only when the pleasure took them both. Her skin flushed so hot that she feared he could sense it through the space between them.
‘What is that?’ She pointed across the valley. A man-made structure interrupted the natural contour of the mountainside, partially hidden by the forest green.
‘Observant,’ he said with a note of admiration. ‘There are watchtowers all along the cliffs. Guard houses, stockades.’
A numbness crept into her fingers. He revealed the information without reservation, without care. As if she were too insignificant to be a threat, or he no longer needed to hide his intentions. It certainly couldn’t be that he trusted her. He presented a striking profile, his gaze fixed impassively on the distant cliffs. She searched the line of the ridge for the fortifications he spoke of.
‘How many men do you command?’ The words scratched against her throat.
He looked directly at her until she squirmed beneath his scrutiny. ‘Old Gao has likely convinced the Emperor that I’ve raised an army of hundreds of thousands to oppose him.’
‘But you have been building an army.’
When he didn’t answer, she pushed on. ‘You can’t win like this.’
‘I’m not so easy to kill, Lady Ling.’
‘This is what Gao wants. On his terms.’
‘Enough. This is not your battle.’
In other words, this was not her place. Li Tao wouldn’t listen. He was a man of action, not words, and considered himself accountable to no one. In that way, he and Gao were very much alike. Her stomach sank with despair.
The more Li Tao built up his defences and withdrew from imperial scrutiny, the more his actions would incriminate him. All her knowledge meant nothing. Li Tao would never let her in.
‘If you’re so bent on war, why did you ask me to stay?’ she asked in desperation.
‘I wanted the nights.’ His voice strained to near the breaking point. ‘I wanted those hours with you.’
It was a generous admission from him—for Li Tao to admit he wanted anything—but she found no consolation there.
‘A diversion,’ she said bitterly. ‘But now it’s done.’
He caught her shoulders as she tried to go. ‘It was a mistake to keep you here.’
A mistake. The pain bit deep before she could shield herself against it. She knew it was true, which made the pain worse. Someone had manipulated Li Tao to retrieve her. They were being compelled by unseen forces.
She twisted out of his grasp and moved back to the ridge to stare out over the bamboo sea, trying to recapture the sense of peace she’d had moments earlier.
‘This is all we can have, Suyin.’
His words were a hollow echo of what he’d told her last night. There could be no more. She wasn’t ready to accept it.
‘It’s always like this. First the August Emperor, and now you. Men only desire my company when the threat of death hangs over them.’
Li Tao came close enough for her to sense the heat from his body, so warm in contrast to the coolness of the forest. His arm closed around her waist, the other one about her shoulders to hold her against his chest, fitting her back. With a sigh, she sank against him and let his presence envelop her. He never embraced her in daylight, she realised.
‘I see your face in front of me every moment of the day. I think of your skin, your voice, the way you taste.’ His lips brushed against her hair. He held her even tighter. ‘But this was always meant to end. It has to.’
She squeezed her eyes shut at the last part. She’d known his lover’s words wouldn’t be allowed to stand untouched. There was always bitterness to follow. He was convinced that they could not be, and Li Tao never backed down from his convictions.
He turned her in his arms so they could finally face each other. Without another word, he took her mouth with a kiss that only filled her with more longing, more doubt. His fingers curved over her hip possessively. She clutched at his robe and dragged him closer, as if he could be any closer. When
they broke apart, he still wouldn’t let go.
‘You say these words. You insist on these things, but then you—’ She struggled for words. ‘There has to be a way.’
He rested his forehead against hers. The way he held her could be so deceptively tender. She still couldn’t catch her breath and she didn’t want to. She knew now, more than ever, that she couldn’t lose him.
He kissed her again; this time his touch was rough and impatient. ‘These men are more experienced than I at the art of war. At every step, I sense I’m making the wrong move, falling deeper into someone’s plans.’
This was how she had felt in the palace, always fighting against the hold of powerful men and feeling that there was nothing she could do to be free of them. She’d felt that way with Gao and his minions. In a way, even Emperor Li Ming had imprisoned her to his will.
‘You don’t want to be a part of this,’ he said.
‘But I’m already a part of this.’
‘No.’ A single word. It rang as a final declaration. He ran a possessive hand along her spine. ‘This was not part of our arrangement. I can’t have you here.’
His black eyes claimed her completely even as he denied her. She cradled his face in her hands, running her fingers over the rigid line of his jaw, waiting for him to turn away, but he didn’t. Though Li Tao would never admit it, she still had some hold over this indomitable man. For once, she didn’t want to use this power for her own gain. She only wanted to find some way to help him. It wasn’t enough for her to merely survive, to simply exist any longer.
Again she caught the phantom of a dream. The two of them, many years later, walking together. Li Tao was still tall and majestic beside her. His shoulders only bowed slightly with time, his hair grey. He had spoken once, and only briefly, of family, of a future. A legacy. She wished with all her heart those were things she could tempt him with.
‘Perhaps the solution is beyond what you and I can accomplish alone,’ she ventured.
He frowned at her, not comprehending. She was only starting to form the idea herself.
‘What if you went directly to Shen? He doesn’t want civil war. Humble yourself before him.’ She knew nothing about battles and armies, but she knew men like Li Ming and Emperor Shen held themselves to a higher moral standard. ‘Appear before Shen without your army, one man to another. Lay your sword at his feet and tell him that everything you do is for the sake of the empire.’
