Page 12 of The Cinders
‘You spoke of Lady Tian, that she gives you custom.That must please you greatly.’
Another grunt; the man seemed partial to them.
‘My shoes will not be appreciated as they should.The attentions of the noble class are fleeting, the moment something more exotic is presented to them, the old is set aside.My shoes deserve better.’
Xian folded his arms across his chest, for want of something better to do, and his overcoat shifted with the move.
‘Ah!Careful, now.’Song Lim scowled.
‘I’m sorry.’
Song Lim sighed.‘Never mind me.My temper gets away from me when I worry over my shoes.’He squeezed the cloth.‘One more go and you’ll be rid of me, your highness.We’ll have you perfect for the ceremony.No one shall raise their voice at you.’
Xian drew his gaze from where it fixed on the shoemaker’s sturdy hand, and their eyes met.Song Lim did not flinch from his gaze.But more remarkably, nor did Xian seek to hide from such bold regard.
‘Thank you.You have been very kind.’
With another of his dismissive grunts, Song Lim broke the reverie of the moment.He returned to scrubbing at the spot on the hem that Xian could not even see from where he stood.To his eye, the mark was washed clean.
‘It bothers me you view common decency as kindness, your highness.’Song Lim was gruff.‘You were sent to Kunming when you were ten?That is young to be sent so far.Your mother must have been saddened by such a distance between you.’
It was as though someone had poured cold water down Xian’s back.
‘She died.When I was five.’Eighteen years had passed, but the grief still held jagged edges.
A groan came from the shoemaker.He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and bowed.‘My deepest condolences, may Yan Wang have smiled upon her soul.’
Xian inclined his head.‘The god of death would have had no choice but to grant her entry to heaven.She was too good and kind to be refused.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Song Lim smiled, broad teeth to match his broad shoulders.Everything about the man spoke of solidity.Xian guessed there was a ten-year difference between them, and those years had built the man well.‘Her son dignifies her memory.You strike me as a kind man, your highness, though poorly treated for it.’
Flattery always made Xian uncomfortable, for it was usually so terribly insincere.
‘My guardians think it important I am kept humble.Their methods may be judged harsh but—’
‘Because they are,’ he retorted.‘Have they forgotten they rank beneath a prince of the Son of Heaven?’
Xian fought the twitch of a smile.‘They were not born into their titles, so perhaps they don’t know?’
Song Lim chuckled.‘Ah, I see.Bestowed titles.What favour did they do the Dragon Throne, then, to gain the honour?’
‘I was that favour.’
Another pause in the cleaning.‘I don’t follow.’
Xian glanced down at his half-full cup of huangjiu, placed on the stool when he needed both hands free to put on the overcoat.Song Lim was observant.He lifted the cup, handing it to Xian.After a deep gulp, he laid out the corrupt nature of his arrival in Yunnan.‘Marchioness Shen is sister to the Noble Consort Jing.Before she was asked to take me into her guardianship neither she nor her husband, the Governor, held any noble title.By the time I arrived though, that had changed.Along with the wealth they gain through taxes and trade in Kunming, they are paid handsomely by the Imperial Palace to keep me…’ He took another sip.‘Out of sight of my father who does not wish the ill-fortune of my presence, nor trust that dark magick wont cause me to set my sights on the Dragon Throne.’
Song Lim uttered something very bawdy and unpleasant.‘Who would wish to be powerful and wealthy, truly?It makes a sensible man paranoid, and rots his mind.’He shook his head.‘I tell you, I’d be run off my feet if I sought patronage in the Forbidden City, but I’ve always sworn I won’t do it.Always thought it was the biggest nest ofyaoguai, now I’m hearing that I’m right.What were they thinking to send a motherless boy into another pile of daemons?’
They were thinking of themselves; of their conniving plans and fortunes, of rank and position.But Xian made no reply.He finished his cup and set it back down on the stool.Song Lim picked up the bottle and refilled the cup.
‘Don’t say a word if it hurts you, but I’d like to hear about her.’Song Lim’s voice had a natural depth, but it deepened further when he spoke gently, as he did now.‘Your mother, that is.What was her name?’
Gooseflesh trailed down Xian’s arms.No one, not even Daiyu, had ever asked him that, and if she knew it, she had never uttered his mother’s name aloud.
‘Keshun…Wu Keshun.’Speaking his mother’s name, left so long unsaid, cut open a void in Xian that he sought to fill with a rush of words.‘A fire in the palace took her.It would have taken me too, were it not for my mother’s protection.She ran into her quarters as the rooms were engulfed, to save me.But I was hiding, and too terrified to answer her calls.By the time she found me…there was no way out.She perished…but I somehow lived.’
Xian’s fingers fluttered to touch the veil, where the scarring beneath lived as a constant reminder of that day.He’d only ever spoken so freely to one other.A golden carp who could tell no one of his deep shame and guilt.