Page 14 of The Cinders
The child halted, eyes wide, chest heaving.‘But…the guards…they are coming…told you were seen here.’Sweat fastened his shirt to his chest.‘Mistress Daiyu bids you…follow me, your highness.’
Heng rushed into the room, bearing the slippers.‘Here, quickly.’
The shoemaker caught her before she reached Xian.‘Give them to me.’
With the slippers handed over, he returned to kneel before Xian, setting one shoe down, and holding out the other.
Xian lifted his gown and pushed his left foot forward.
There was a brief touch, a slide of a wide palm against the back of Xian’s heel, before the fire-warm softness of the slipper engulfed his foot.Lim muttered approvingly before moving to the other, fitting the shoe with the same deft care; the soft glance of his hand against Xian’s bare skin startlingly pleasant.
An apology lingered on Xian’s lips; he’d been too harsh to the man earlier, but before he could speak a word he was being ushered out the door and following the harried young man sent to fetch him.
Xian glanced back and found Song Lim still upon his knees, gathering up Xian’s cup and the bottle of huangjiu.He did not look up to watch Xian leave.
Likely, when he was deep into the bottle, Master Song would tell tales of his encounter with the ruined prince who played in the mud and talked to fish.And he’d laugh as heartily as all the rest of them.
Xian swallowed against the hurt that came with such a thought, and hurried away.
CHAPTER FIVE
XIAN KNELTon a cushion too thin for the time he’d been upon it; his toes tingling with the need to stretch his legs.The Reception Hall, pungent with incense, was crowded with bureaucrats and officials, attendants and nobles, who watched on as Marquess Tian, Governor of Kunming, signed the trade agreement with Scholar-Official Park; representative of Manhao’s Sub-Prefect Feng.The envoy from the river town was small, just four in total, with Official Park joined by two other bureaucrats: a secretary and local magistrate, along with a large, imposing man said to be Captain of Sub-Prefect Feng’s own personal guard.
Why there was a need for such guardians in so small a port town as Manhao, Xian couldn’t imagine.In fact, the entire agreement puzzled him.Clearly, the Marchioness felt it of utmost importance.She’d reiterated it again earlier, when she’d stormed into his rooms, only a few minutes after he’d found his hurried way back there.Xian had been applying lead-white makeup to the bruise upon his leg.
‘Where have you been?’she’d snapped.
‘A walk in the gardens to settle my nerves, that is all.’
Her rounded face had tightened, dark eyes narrowing.
‘Liar.’
But with no time to interrogate him, she’d struck him instead; a sharp rap of her fan against the side of his head, where no mark would show.She’d had to reach, for he stood head and shoulders above her.
Xian watched as she swept away in her ruqun of silver and crimson, her hairpieces tinkling with deceptive loveliness.The oddest thought crossed his mind — Song Lim would have snatched the fan from her and returned her strike in kind.
Whilst he waited to be called to the floor and complete proceedings, Xian felt the weight of the room’s stares.The envoy’s members were particularly curious.The imposing man, one whose lips seemed naturally set in a sneer, had cast more than one glance Xian’s way.Likely he was as bored as many others in the room, waiting on the dull signing ceremony to end, but his attentions had Xian shifting on his numbing legs, grateful, at last, for the extra concealment the swaying beads on his veil brought him.
For once he did not have the marchioness’s glare upon him; she was too busy spreading her reddened smile to all those who busied themselves around her, and watching those who watched her daughter, the Lady Tian.
They both sat in regal observance upon the dais at the head of the long room, drowning in their finery as they sought to impress their guests.Lady Tian sat beside her mother on an intricately carved wooden seat that was all but swallowed by the volume of her gown.There was no denying Tian looked lovely in a ruqun far more spectacular than her mother’s; a ploy to keep attention upon the unwed daughter.
Lady Tian wore gold and red, with a goldenbúyào set in her piled black hair; its main pin set in the shape of a magnolia flower, with its dangling tassels holding pearls and jade fish; a nod to the envoy whose town relied on the prosperity of the Red River.
The gong was rung, its deep resonance stopping all quiet conversation in the room.Marquess Tian made his way back to the dais.A dull-faced and vain man, who was not so mean as his wife and daughter, simply because he was too distracted by the luxuries of his position to be so.He relished the pomp and ceremony of official occasions such as this, if only so he could wear his black silk satinchaofu, with its exquisite, vibrant embroidery and daring depiction of a five-clawed dragon at the chest.Regulation dictated that only the emperor and heir apparent may wear such a dragon, but the marquess was not the only noble who flouted the mandate.Yunnan Province was a long way from the Forbidden City.
‘My noble and honoured guests.’The marquess spread his arms as he stood before his carved seat on the dais.‘The agreement is signed.Now, as the ink dries, we shall honour Heaven and Earth with the music of our ancestors.Let the gods bless this union of our cities, may we prosper in our unity.Now we shall signify the unbreakable nature of our agreement with the yayue, danced by the Son of Heaven’s own Imperial child.’
A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd, in part because they finally got to see the Dancing Prince, and partly in eagerness to free themselves of the formal proceedings and move onto feasting and drinking; Marquess Tian foremost among them.His love of fine wines and liquors meant cellars well stocked.Any who came to seek his favour knew what enticed him.He gestured to Xian to rise.
No easy feat when he’d been set on his knees for the past half hour, but the crowd was not alone in being eager for the yayue to begin.Now that the pleasant heat of the huangjiu was gone, and the distraction of the shoemaker’s brusque company absent, Xian’s sense of unease had regrown itself.
Something about these proceedings seemed odd.First, the marchioness’s obvious anxiety that all go precisely to plan.She rarely twitched a cheek when dealing with envoys from Guangzhao or Shanghai, whose cities were far more powerful, and their trade more vital.So why did the meagre port town of Manhao concern her so?And why such a favourable deal for the town?
Kunming was prosperous, producing tobacco in its fields and copper in its mines, and was an established trade centre for cotton, paper and textiles.Did they really need Manhao’s red algae, abalone and, admittedly, increasingly rare, paddlefish so badly they were signing over part ownership of one of the copper mines to the river town?
His trepidation unabated, Xian moved towards the centre of the room, where the floorboards lay wide and clear for his dance.He took his place, and lifted his arms, turning his wrists and splaying his fingers, as though he held a lotus flower in each hand.Poorly concealed and predictable whispers surrounded him.