‘Tsu Ma!'
She jumped down and ran to him, throwing her arms about him, her lips seeking his, but he held still against her, as if made of stone. She drew back, astonished, her eyes wide, looking up into his face.
‘What is it, my love? What's happened?'
He looked down at her, his hands trembling now, her beauty, the warmth of her hands where they touched him, almost robbing him of his senses. Her perfume was intoxicating, her eyes like oceans in which a man could drown.
‘I love you,' he began, the full depth of what he felt for her concentrated in those few words.
‘I know,' she interrupted him, pressing closer, relief flooding her face. ‘And I've news...'
‘Hear me out!' he said harshly, then relented, his hand brushing against her face, his voice softening. ‘Please, my love, hear me out. This is difficult enough...'
Her face changed again. She tried to smile, then frowned. ‘Difficult?'
‘Yes. I...' He swallowed. Never had anything been so difficult as this. Not even the death of his father and the ritual killing of the ‘copy' had prepared him for the hardship of this moment.
He fell silent. Even now it was not said. Even now he could take her in his arms and carry her up into the temple rooms and lay her on his cloak. Even now he could have thatw,&n codthshi sweetness one last time.
But no. If this once then he would want her for ever. And that could not be. Not while there were Seven. Chung Kuo itself would have to fall before he could have Fei Yen.
He looked down, the pain of what he felt almost overwhelming him.
‘You want to end it? Is that it?'
Her voice was strangely soft, surprisingly sympathetic. He looked up and saw how she was looking at him, saw how his own hurt was reflected in her face. And even as he watched he saw the first tears begin to gather in the corners of her eyes and fall, slowly, ever so slowly, down the porcelain perfection of her cheek.
‘Fei Yen...' he said, his voice a whisper. ‘You know I love you.'
‘And I you.' She shuddered, then stepped back from him. ‘I had a dream. A dream that I was free to become your wife.'
He shivered, horrified by the words. ‘It cannot be.'
Her eyes were pleading with him now. ‘Why not? I was his brother's wife. You know our laws.'
‘And yet you married him. The Seven put their seals to the special Edict. It was done. It cannot be undone.'
‘Why not? You willed the law changed once, now will it back.'
He shook his head. It was as he said; it could not be undone. Though all the seven T'ang agreed the match was ill-chosen, they would not change this thing. Not now. For one day Li Yuan would be T'ang, and to do this would be to wound him deeply. Only catastrophe could come of that. Only the end of everything they were.
He spoke clearly now, articulating each word separately. ‘I would we both were free, Fei Yen. I would give up all I have for that. But only ill – great ill – would come of it. And this, this play between us... it too must end. We must not meet like this again. Not ever.'
She winced at his finality. ‘Not ever?'
The sweetness of the words, their pain and pleading, seemed to tear his soul from him, and yet he stood firm against her, knowing that to soften now would undo everything. ‘Not ever. Understand me, Li Yuan's wife? From now on we are but... acquaintances, who meet at functions and the like. All other thoughts must now be put aside.'
‘Would you forget... ?' she began, then fell silent, dropping her head, for he was glaring at her.
‘Enough! Would you have me die before you've done with me?'
‘Never...' she answered, the word a mere breath, a whisper.
‘Then go. At once.'
She bowed, obedient, for a moment so like a wife to him that he caught his breath, pained, beyond all curing pained by the sight of her, broken, defeated by his own determination not to have her.
And then she was gone and he was alone again. He sat down heavily, feeling suddenly empty, hollowed of everything but grief, and wept.
Fei Yen jumped down and, without waiting for her groom to come and take the horse, made towards the palace. As she ran through the stable yards, grooms and servants bowed low then straightened up, watching her back, astonished. No one dared say a word, but their exchanged glances spoke eloquently. They had seen her ruined face and understood, for they, at least, knew what had been happening between the Princess and the handsome young T'ang.
And now, it seemed, it was over.
In the corridor Nan Ho made to greet her, but she ran past him as if he was not there. He turned, frowning, deciding not to pursue her but to go out to the stables and investigate the matter. It was his duty, after all, to serve his Prince. And howy, f hehout h better than to understand and gauge the volatile moods of the woman closest to him?
Fei Yen herself went into her rooms and slammed the doors behind her, locking them, then threw herself down on to the bed, letting the enormity of what had happened wash over her at last, her tiny body shaken by great shuddering sobs.
For a while she slept, then woke an hour later, all of the anger and hurt washed from her. She stood and looked about her, studying the hangings, the rich furnishings of her room, frowning at their strangeness, finding no connection between herself and these things. It was as if she had died and come to life again, for she felt nothing. Only an overpowering numbness where feeling ought to be.
She turned, catching her own reflection in the glass on the far side of the room. She took a step towards it then stopped, looking down sharply.
Her news... She had never had a chance to tell him her news.
She stood there a moment, trembling, a single tear running down her cheek, then lifted her head defiantly, taking control of herself again, knowing what she must do.
She bathed, then summoned her maids and had them put her hair up and dress her in a simple chi pao, the silk a pale lavender trimmed with blue. Then, to perfect the look, she removed all of her bangles and her rings, bar his, wearing nothing about her neck. That done, she stood before the mirror, examining herself minutely.
Yes. That was the look she wanted. Not sumptuous and sophisticated but plain and almost earthy – like a peasant girl. She had kept even her make-up simple.
Smiling, she turned from the mirror and went out, into the corridor.
‘Master Nan!' she called, glimpsing the Master of the Inner Chambers at the far end of the corridor.
Nan Ho turned, acknowledging her, then, giving a small bow to the man he had been talking to, hastened to her, stopping four paces from Fei Yen and bowing low, his eyes averted.
‘Master Nan, is my husband back yet?'
Nan Ho kept his head lowered. ‘He is, my lady. Twenty minutes past.'
‘Good.' She turned, looking away from him. ‘Then go to him, Master Nan, and tell him his wife would welcome a few moments of his time.'
Nan Ho looked up, surprised, then looked down quickly. ‘Forgive me, my lady, but the Prince asked not to be disturbed. He has important work to finish.'
‘He is in his study, then?'
Nan Ho bowed his head slightly. ‘That is so, my lady. With his personal secretary, Chang Shih-Sen.'
‘Then you need worry yourself no longer, Nan Ho. I'll go to him myself.'
‘But, my lady...'
‘You are dismissed, Nan Ho.'
He bowed very low. ‘As my lady wishes.'
She watched him go, then turned away, walking quickly towards her husband's study.
In front of the door she hesitated, composing herself, then knocked.
There was a moment's silence, then footsteps. A second later the door opened slightly and Secretary Chang looked out at her.
‘My lady...' He bowed, then opened the door wider, stepping back, at the same time looking across at Li Yuan.
‘It is your wife, my lord, the Princess Fei.'
Li Yuan stood up behind his desk as Fei Yen entered, his face lighting at the sight of her.
‘Fei Yen... I thought you were out riding.'
‘I...' She hesitated, then crossed the room until only the desk was between them. ‘The truth is, husband, I could not settle until I had seen you. Master Nan saidtud/p> suryou we you had returned...'
Li Yuan looked past her at his secretary. ‘Go now, Shih-sen. We'll finish this later.' Then, smiling, he came round the desk and embraced her, lifting her face to kiss her lips. ‘Your eagerness to see me warms me, my love. I've missed you too.'
She let her head rest against his chest a moment, then looked up at him again. ‘I've missed you, yes, but that isn't why I've interrupted you...'
He laughed gently. ‘You need no reason to interrupt me. You are reason enough in yourself.'
She smiled and looked down. ‘Even so, it wasn't only my eagerness to see you. I have some news.'
‘News?' He moved her slightly back from him, taking her upper arms gently in his hands, studying her. Then he smiled again. ‘Well, let us go outside, into the garden. We'll sit on the bench seat, side by side, like doves on a perch, and you can tell me your news.'
Returning his smile, she let herself be led out into the sunlit warmth of the garden. From somewhere near at hand a songbird called, then called again. They sat, facing each other on the sun-warmed bench.
‘You look beautiful, my love,' he said, admiring her. ‘I don't know what you've done, but it suits you.' He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, caressing the bare, unadorned flesh of her neck. ‘But come, my love, what news is this you have?'