Page 81 of The Cinders

Chen shuffled in between his gods, his foot knocking the ash from a stick of burning incense.‘Be reasonable, your highness.I cannot leave you alone here with the shoemaker.’

Xian let go of Lim’s hand, trembling with what Lim hoped was rage, and not fear.‘You cannot leave me with my own shoemaker?What preposterous nonsense is that?Do you think I will shirk my duties and run away with him?How dare you insult me.Do not waste anymore of my time.It would not do for the mandarin to search for me, your time grows short.’

Lim worked to keep his expression smooth; but internally he was shouting his delight.Xian, the indignant, self-important prince, was a revelation.

And Master Chen had certainly backed himself into more than a corner of his room, but the man was stubborn.‘I do not wish to insult you, of course, your highness, but I think it truly best if an attendant sees to your requests.You have my assurance that it will all be done, and Master Song made very comfortable.’

Chen’s own obvious discomfort gave Lim an idea.He shifted around behind Xian, so his face couldn’t be seen by the other shoemaker.

‘Curse him,’ he whispered.

Xian arched an eyebrow, mouthing,what?

‘Cursed Prince.’Lim rolled his eyes, trying to make light of the terrible name given to the prince.‘He believes.’

He dared not say more lest Chen hear.

Xian set his shoulders, giving Lim the barest perceptible nod.He let out a gasp, stepping back.

‘Are you certain?’he exclaimed.‘My eyes…they have deepened?’

Lim did his best at looking concerned.‘Yes, your highness.They are indigo…do you feel the change?’

‘I do, they burn.’Xian rounded on Chen, a theatrical sweep of his skirts making it appear as though the move were a part of one of his dances.‘Master Chen, you have angered me too much.’

He unfastened his veil, and with a hesitation Lim only saw for how carefully he watched, Xian let it fall from his face.The jasmine fell away, landing at his feet.

‘Do you wish me to wipe good fortune from your life, Master Chen?’

‘No, no of course not,’ said the flustered shoemaker, whose horrified gaze darted between Xian’s face and his stone gods.‘What has happened?What have I done?’

‘I try to keep my peace, so the curse does not overcome me, but I do not always succeed.Do you see my eyes, how deep a shade they are?The curse is restless.You know of my curse, do you not?’

He leaned towards Chen, who pressed himself against the wall, lifting his fan higher.‘I do, I do, but I do not wish it laid upon me.I’ve done you no wrong.’

‘Ill-fortune has no favourites, and bad luck no friends.Help me, Master Chen.Calm me, so we might appease the spirits that possess me.’

The shoemaker whimpered behind his fan.‘Appease, yes, yes.I beg you, Your Highness, calm yourself.’He shuffled his way towards the open doors.‘I shall go now, a salve, clothes…’

‘Noodles,’ Lim whispered as his belly rumbled.

Xian hardly paused.‘And food for the shoemaker, so he can work well for you, and please me,’ Xian called after the skittering man who lifted his skirts to travel down his stairs faster.‘There are zhajianmian being made, not four houses down.’

Chen paused, looking over his shoulder.‘Your highness?’

‘I smell them.’Xian sniffed theatrically.‘So do not dare tell me you could not find them.’

Bobbing like a bamboo pipe in a fountain, Chen backed away, scuffing his feet as he raced to do the Cursed Prince’s bidding.

Xian stood near the door, like a vengeful god watching his servant flee.It was rousing, watching him stand so tall, so unyielding.

Far too rousing.Lim shifted his hips, willing softness to return to parts grown stiff.

When Chen was out of sight, Xian turned.

They stared at each other in the new, welcome silence.Until Lim could bear it no longer, and doubled over with laughter.

‘Highness, that was the most incredible display I’ve ever seen.’He hugged his ribs, his bruises painful, as his delight took him over.‘They should have you in an opera, not just twirling about.’