by Jeannie Lin
‘I have no loyalty to Gao. You believe that, don’t you?’
She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. Involuntarily, his hand tightened around her waist. He’d already risked too much for her. He might be foolish enough to risk even more, but he wanted to know what he was facing. He wouldn’t be ambushed in a blind alley.
‘Tell me everything,’ he demanded softly.
He guided her to a chair and relinquished his hold on her to face her. She smoothed her robe over her knees. Elegant, graceful, biding her time. He waited.
She managed a small, mournful smile. ‘So now you’re my interrogator?’
When he refused to be charmed, her shoulders sank. ‘Gao was the one who discovered me in Luoyang.’ She exhaled slowly, with some effort. ‘He brought me before the August Emperor.’
‘You were under Gao’s control from the beginning.’
She flinched. Her lips parted to deny it, but she couldn’t. ‘It would be easy to think that all of this was part of a larger plan, an intricate plot. I was only fifteen. I knew nothing about emperors or palaces. Gao came with a party one night to the pavilion. I didn’t know who he was, but Madame Ling fawned over him. He came back the next evening alone to watch me from the other side of the curtain.
‘My hands trembled so badly, I could barely play. I sensed he was a man of influence. That night he paid to be able to look at me with the curtain pulled back.’
His knuckles clenched. ‘Only to look?’
She nodded quickly before continuing. ‘The next night Gao came back with a note for five hundred taels of silver and ushered me into a litter headed to the imperial palace. Madame was happy to comply. Her fame in the pleasure district would be immortal.’
‘Gao thought your beauty would easily capture Li Ming’s heart.’
She stared down at her hands. ‘Gao always thought he owned me, but even with all of the warlord’s manipulations, the Emperor never called me to his bedchamber. I became worthless to him.’
Li Tao struggled to remain dispassionate as he listened to the explanation. Suyin had done what was necessary to survive. He’d done the same.
‘What did Gao tell you to do?’ he asked.
A hand fluttered nervously to her throat. She swallowed. ‘I didn’t want to be noticed. I tried to disappear. I was only one pretty face among hundreds. You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? Of concubines being pushed into wells, strangled by eunuchs, slaughtered by jealous emperors.’
For every ten poems speaking of the virtues and graces of the Emperor’s concubines, there was one tale of sorrow.
‘You still haven’t told me anything that would cause Gao to come after you,’ he said, his voice hard, his heart harder. He had to remember how clever she was. Suyin had risked her life by agreeing to go with him before Shen, yet she still kept her secrets.
‘Please, come sit, Tao.’
She gestured to the place beside her, but he didn’t comply. He moved around to sit down in the chair opposite her, where they could remain eye to eye. After a pause, she withdrew and sat with her hands curled together in her lap, acknowledging the small defeat.
‘Beautiful women are so very expendable to men of power,’ she remarked lifelessly.
The accusation wounded him when he should have been impervious, but he revealed nothing. He merely stared at her, willing her to continue.
‘I could describe schemes against the throne, against other warlords, against you.’ Suyin pierced him with a glance. ‘Sometimes it was as simple as a small remark to the Emperor or finding a bit of information that Gao wanted. I would later discover that someone had been exiled from court, or even executed. Did I cause these things to happen? I don’t know.’
‘Tell me everything.’
She looked up, surprised at how he mirrored her words. ‘I murdered the Empress,’ she said quietly.
‘What?’
‘I killed her. And her child.’ Suyin wrapped her arms tight in front of her to keep from shaking. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Not because she threatened me or because I held any ill will towards her. I did it because I was alone and I was weak.’
Chapter Seventeen
Imperial Palace—AD 743
16 years earlier
It was a misconception that castration rendered the palace eunuchs effeminate and passive. Yao, the Empress’s eunuch, held the knife to Suyin’s throat with more viciousness than any man.
‘Do you understand, whore?’ The high pitch of his speech chilled her spine.
She gave the tiniest of nods, biting her lip to hold back a sob of fear. Two months in Changan and she already knew the palace of dreams for what it was: a gilded nest of snakes. And now she didn’t have Madame Ling to protect her. The den mother’s motives had been callously self-serving, but Madame had needed her and had kept her safe in the pleasure district of Luoyang.
Yao had stolen into her room in the dead of night to threaten her. The eunuchs were given access to the women’s court as if the only danger a man could pose was between his legs.
He hissed his orders in a harsh whisper as she scrambled up from her sleeping pallet. She passed a hand over her throat as she dressed in the dark, the press of the knife looming oppressively over her.
‘Take this.’ At the door he placed a cup into her hands. Then he waved the knife in front of her face and pointed across the quarter.
Yao had made himself clear. She would bring the brew of herbs to the Empress. Suyin could not protest that this was not her duty. She was a chosen concubine by title and not a servant, but once the women had learned a woman of the evening had wiled her way into the Emperor’s court, it became a harem pastime to heap a mountain of trivial abuses on her, the punishment of a thousand cuts.
The lanterns were lit in the Empress’s palace at the south end of the women’s quarters. Suyin hurried through chamber after chamber with the eunuch at her heels.
The Empress lay reclined inside her private apartment, her face nearly as pale as her sheer nightdress. She glanced up and frowned. The palace touted the Empress as a great beauty, but whenever Suyin looked upon her, her face was always twisted into a sneer of displeasure.
‘Empress, to your health.’ She held the cup with outstretched arms and bowed her head low.
The Empress winced in discomfort. Her hand rubbed absently over the rounded swell of her stomach. The unborn child she carried was said to cause her turmoil quite often in the late hours of the night. The fortune tellers crooned that this meant she carried a restless baby boy who would be eager to challenge the world.
The Empress rubbed a hand over her throat and squeezed her eyes shut to fight off a wave of sickness. ‘She doesn’t have the sense of the lowliest of attendants,’ she said in disgust.
‘You must drink before the Empress,’ the eunuch snapped.
A chill raced down her spine. The Empress glared at her impatiently. Yao nudged her in warning. The knife was out of sight, but she knew it was there, waiting for her.
The Empress’s eunuch was highly regarded in the palace. If she tried to expose Yao, she would be the one they hanged. With stiff arms, she closed her eyes and lifted the cup to her mouth. The bitter brew slipped past her lips and she forced it down her throat.
The Empress held out her hand. ‘Be gone from here.’
She stared at the Empress’s belly as she handed the cup over. As soon as the Empress bent to drink, she couldn’t hold back.
‘Empress,’ she choked out in alarm.
Even though the jealous Empress had been the worst of her antagonists, she had to try to warn her, as one woman to another.
But Yao grabbed her before she could speak. ‘The Empress is tired. Leave her.’ He made sure she could feel the tip of the knife through his sleeve before he shoved her towards the door.
Suyin ran. The poison swam black though her veins. She knelt in the damp moss of the garden and forced a finger down her throat until she coughed and retched into the dirt. Her heart
raced with fear. Had the poison already crept too far into her? She had only taken a small swallow of it.
She had to go to someone about what she knew. As she dragged herself to her feet, she realised with a growing emptiness that there was no one. Yao had singled out the one girl who had no friends, no allies. He held enough influence in the palace to ensure her silence.
With a sick heart, she crawled back to her pallet and curled into a tight ball. Within the hour, sharp, needlepoint stabs racked her stomach. She was dying, dying alone and lost in the hidden compartments of the palace. Her ghost would never be able to find its way home.
Wicked nightmares descended on her. Yao chased after her with his knife. If the poison didn’t kill her, he would. But death didn’t take her, as she deserved. She emerged from her sickness to find the women’s court in chaos.
The Empress’s body had been found that morning on the floor of the Temple of Spirits. She had dragged herself there in the night, as if seeking protection in her last moments. The eunuch Yao was discovered hanging from the rafters of his bedchamber with a rope pulled tight around his neck.
Li Tao sat across from her. His hands were curved over his knees as he stared, unmoving. The dragon ring gleamed upon his second finger. He had been charged to destroy the emperor’s enemies and show no mercy. That was how he had gained favour.
His gaze was calculating now, starved of passion. Without any of the warmth she had come to know. She had earned a measure of trust on the journey to the capital, but it was spent now. She had lost him. Somehow, that made it easier to speak.
‘Gao gave the order to the chief eunuch. He wanted the Empress dead and I did nothing to stop it.’
‘Suyin—’
A deep line creased his brow. Her vision was too blurred with tears to tell if it was concern or anger. Or horror. She recoiled when Li Tao reached for her. Her pulse raced and her stomach twisted into vicious knots, sickened by all that she had seen. The memories refused to be denied. At times, the images would fade, but the debt always remained. Stones upon a scale. She had to be done with this.
‘I was Gao’s puppet,’ she confessed. ‘I had no one to go to in the palace. At times he wanted me dead, and then he would seem to protect me. I could never predict what would happen next.’
Li Tao closed his arms around her, pulling her to her feet. He insisted on dragging her against him. Impossible man.
‘So many people were implicated in the Empress’s death, but never me.’ She forced herself to face him. ‘Never the Emperor’s precious consort.’
The warmth of his body wrapped around her, but she didn’t deserve the comfort. He attempted to stroke her hair while she struggled in his hold like a trapped fox. Still he held on, his arms a steel cage around her until she tired.
His voice was low and close. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
She squeezed her eyes shut and sank against him. ‘When you first came to the river, I thought you knew. I thought you had come to fulfil your vow to the August Emperor. You were charged with hunting down all the conspirators.’
He stiffened against her. His chest rose and fell against her cheek and she held her breath as the knowledge filled him. There had been such disorder in the palace over those days. The only one who had seen her enter the Empress’s quarters in the middle of the night had been the chief eunuch. Suyin never knew whether he’d taken his own life or Gao had him killed. She was certain Gao would have her killed as well, but he’d let her live to use her.
‘You were forced,’ Li Tao said finally. ‘And Emperor Li is dead. That era is gone.’
‘But you were always so loyal.’
‘I’m anything but loyal.’
There was such a fearful beauty in his harsh features. His gaze held fire and unspoken determination. He was a puzzle she would never resolve. She had exposed her most guarded secret, but he gave nothing in return.
‘Why are you still fighting so hard to maintain balance?’ she asked.
‘Because it is the only way the empire will survive.’
‘You truly believe that?’
‘Yes.’
His hands strayed down her back and she flushed beneath his touch, her body moulding to him. She considered urging him to leave this losing battle. The empire was vast and they could hide away and live out their lives as they pleased, as she’d once tried to do. But he would never agree. Li Tao believed in duty, if not honour.
She traced the edge of his tunic. The first time she’d dared to touch him after her confession. ‘You and Emperor Shen are more alike than you know. Everything with you is black and white. You can’t defeat Gao like that.’
He released her, but remained close. ‘Gao wants a meeting between us. I already know he wants me to join with him against Shen. There would be no need for secrecy otherwise.’
‘That was never Gao’s way.’ She exhaled, trying to dispel her memories of palace conspiracies and all the old fear in one breath. ‘Gao would rather employ his network of spies and connections within the capital than risk open rebellion.’
His mouth twitched in what was almost a smile. ‘Perhaps you can be useful against Gao after all.’
She knew more about Gao. Those plots seemed insignificant compared to the Empress’s murder, but woven together they formed a pattern of treachery.
‘I can go with you—’
‘I don’t want Gao anywhere near you,’ he interrupted. ‘There is nothing for me to discuss with him. I’ll meet Shen and Gao’s forces directly. Gao can voice his accusations out in the open.’
‘We can still send a message to the Emperor.’
‘It’s too late.’
Once Li Tao had decided, he became immovable. Suyin wanted to believe he could face both of the approaching armies and prevail, but there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Li Tao had been forced to the edge of a cliff. The conflict was wearing him down.
If they could have reached Emperor Shen sooner, he could have denied Gao’s accusations. She would have used every skill in her, every bit of diplomacy she’d learned, to defend him. But Shen wouldn’t come down to Chengdu himself. He would send some subordinate who would be easily manipulated by Gao.
‘Everything will happen quickly now. I’ll return to Chengdu tomorrow. The border fortifications are in place. Gao will know when I don’t go to him that the negotiations are over.’ He spoke plainly. No emotion to obscure what was inevitable. Then he paused. ‘I shouldn’t have even come here.’
‘Why did you?’ She pressed her palm against his chest and watched it rise and fall.
‘You know.’
She didn’t know anything. All she had was hope and only a thin thread remained. She listened to the beat of Li Tao’s heart against her, not quite in rhythm with hers. She wished she did know something valuable, something that could actually hurt Gao and put the power in her hands for once. But she searched through her past and found nothing.
Gao could bring about an empress’s death and go unpunished. The warlord had enough power and influence to bend the court to his will. She was nothing but an emperor’s ruse, created to allow a dying man to rule a little longer. Only Li Tao had the strength to challenge Gao openly. For that, Gao would destroy him.
She lifted her fingertips to his face, running them gingerly along his sharp cheekbones, the thin scar. He didn’t look away as she pulled him towards her. She brushed her lips over his. At first he didn’t respond, but finally his hands curved around her and he closed his eyes, letting her lead.
He was always so direct and demanding. In contrast, she savoured the contours of his mouth, their breath joining delicately. They didn’t have time any more, but they could create the illusion. They could explore one another and stretch out the hours of the night as far as they would allow.
And while he kissed her, she willed herself not to waste any time questioning him, issuing demands that neither of them could fulfil. She knew that Li Tao had already made his decision. What she didn’t know, wa
s what that decision was.
Li Tao returned to the study in the still hours that night. He navigated the corridors without need for light. His eyes were still trained to gauge the shadows and dim edges of space after all these years.
At the desk, he lit an oil candle and set it down beside the ink stone. The pool of light fell over the papers as he worked with quiet efficiency, grinding the ink, opening the empty pamphlet to begin his missive. The characters flowed out in tight columns from the tip of his brush, as unembellished as the orders they contained.
He never knew why Lao Sou had taken the time to teach him these things when all he was meant for was one kill on a faraway battlefield. Not all members of the An Ying clan were so carefully tutored.
He considered Suyin’s proposal. He could denounce Gao, but it would be his word against the senior warlord. The truth mattered little when Gao had the support of the noble families and lesser generals.
The whisper-soft fall of slippered feet interrupted his thoughts. Suyin’s silver voice curled around him. ‘You never rest.’
‘There’s much to do.’
She came into the halo of light and he feasted with his eyes. It had been too many days without the sight of her. Unbound hair against cream-smooth skin. A slip of blue silk moulded to her curves like water. He was already hard. His body didn’t know or care that he couldn’t keep her with him.
‘I’ve never slept much,’ he recalled. ‘In Luoyang, I could wander the ward all night and not be tired. I would sleep in the hour or so before dawn and then the ring of the market gong would wake me.’
‘Luoyang.’ She said the name with all the sensuality and decadence the eastern capital deserved. ‘To think that we might have crossed paths a long time ago.’
‘I would have only seen you as a silhouette in a window.’
There had been gongs to signal everything in the city. Gates open at dawn, gates closed at sundown. The sprawl of the city devoured the weak. It had destroyed his mother, a disgraced woman abandoned in the crowded wards. But Suyin had survived.
