Page 42 of The Cinders

His copper-brown hair — with its light golden streaks — fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and skin white as the heart of a lychee.He wore only a white long-sleeved shirt, and its ties were unfastened, allowing it to gape open at his chest.His full lips, shaped in a bow, were red enough for Xian to wonder if they had been smeared with rouge.

‘I was not making tea, that was a lie.’Xian could not say what compelled him to sudden honesty, but he enjoyed the reward; the foreigner’s smile enhanced by the glow of the lanterns.

‘Lying does not come naturally to you, I can tell, despite the veil to make it easier for you.You must be the Dancing Prince.I am Sir William Black, from the great and mighty British Isles.’He raised his hand, revealing the thin-stemmed glass he held, but Xian was more taken by the slender lengths of his fingers, and the narrowness of his wrist.

‘An Englishman?Welcome to the Middle Kingdom, Sir Black.’Xian smiled shyly, dipping his head.‘Your Mandarin is very good.’

William Black laughed, and Xian sighed at a sound that was lovely as the morning call of birds.

‘It is true, my tongue has many talents.’William grinned.‘I could teach you some skills, if you’d like?’

Xian floated on his little cloud of release, not sure what the man was talking about but nodding just the same.‘I’d like that, yes.’

The Englishman was attractive.Would he like to see Xian dance?Did Xian wish to dance for him?

‘Do you like the food,’ he blurted, stunned by the unfamiliar path his thoughts were treading.He’d harboured no powerful feelings for as long as he could remember; now here he was, with Song Lim on his mind, and this stranger stirring unfamiliar thoughts.

Disquiet tapped at his senses.

‘I’ll admit, the cuisine is not saccharine enough for my tastes.’The Englishman’s eyes glinted as he tilted his head.‘Being as I am, I have a great hunger for sweetness.’He took a sip from his glass, still watching Xian.

‘Salt is more to my taste.I am often berated by the cook for how much I add to her meals,’ Xian said, only for the sake of sayingsomething.He brushed trembling fingers against the daphne petals, unnerved and yet intrigued by the man.

‘Interesting.Very interesting.That narrows things down a little.’Sir William leaned out a little more, his shirt slipping from his shoulder.

‘What do you mean?I hardly think my preference for salt noteworthy.’

The night breeze caught at the man’s curls, making them bob like the tips of the pussy-willow.

Xian looked away, thinking he maybe should have heeded Master Liang’s warning to stop the tincture after a few days.Xian felt careless, or rather, carefree.Too much so.

‘I’d say it’s very noteworthy.’The Englishman took a sip from his glass, running his tongue across the swell of his bottom lip; leaving Xian feeling as though he were a voyeur to something far more intimate.‘Sometimes salty or sweet is a preference, of course.But at other times the reason is much more…shall we say, ingrained?’

An odd thing to say, and Xian stayed quiet.William continued.‘You know yourself, don’t you?’

One odd question followed by another.Xian’s butterfly thoughts struggled to fathom the conversation.‘Of course I do.’

‘And who are you?’

Xian had a vague sense that he should be irritated by such persistence, and yet he opened his mouth to answer.‘I am the thirteenth child of his Imperial Majesty, the Daoguang Emperor, eleventh emperor of the Qing Dynasty, and Consort Ye Keshun.’He’d last spoken his mother’s name with Song Lim.The shoemaker had been easy to speak to as well, perhaps easier than this strange foreigner, whose odd questions gave Xian an ache behind his eyes.

‘Everything alright, your highness?’

‘Hmm?Oh yes.’Xian nodded.‘I feel quite well actually.You are very pleasing company, William.’

Xian winced.Where, by all the Seven Maidens, had that answer come from?

‘I can be far more pleasing, I assure you.’

‘I shall take your word for it,’ Xian replied, his cheeks flushing with heat.

‘You would not wish to find out for yourself?’

Xian cleared his throat, his midriff suddenly tight; as though he wore one of those corsets the English favoured on their women.

‘I certainly do not.Sir William, I am not flattered by such attentions.’

The Englishman hummed to himself, nodding.‘No, you are not, are you?I thought perhaps I was losing my touch, but I understand now.You, my veiled friend, are among the rare few I cannot seduce with my charms.’