Lights—shining and brilliant—pierced my eyes. Dots of red, green, and orange swirled before me. It was morning. The sky looked clean, tinted with a shade of indigo the silkworm workers used to dye the threads. For a moment, I thought that what had happened the previous night was a nightmare. Then I looked around me.
A forest of head-pierced stakes sprouted in front of me, while sharp blades, severed limbs, and headless bodies littered the ground. A few paces from me, some guards, holding their legs, groaned; near them the ministers, their hats askew, their beards speckled with blood, slumped against the wall, like me; and farther along were the ladies and eunuchs, their arms supporting one another, limping along the wall.
We had survived, but we would never be the same, or feel the same, or think the same of the life in the Inner Court again.
“Hey, there,” a voice said beside me. His hands held my shoulders.
“Pheasant.” I faced him, my heart warm with happiness. “You’re here. You saved us. You came! I was so worried about you.”
“It’s over.” He slid down the wall to sit with me.
“I know. I saw it all.”
“I was too late.” He drooped his head, his face speckled with blood.
I touched his sleeve. “What happened to you? Why did Taizi say he did not see you?”
“I was kidnapped by the Pure Lady’s men, right after I left you.” He grimaced. “I thought they would kill me. But the Captain came out of the feasting hall. The men were frightened. They hid me behind a tree and tied me up. I don’t know why the Captain would go to the Eastern Palace—”
“I told the Emperor about Taizi’s plot.”
“You did?”
“Please don’t be angry. I was worried about you.”
“I suppose I must thank you. If you hadn’t, the Pure Lady’s men would have killed me.”
“So the Captain saved you?”
He shook his head. “He didn’t see us. But the lady’s men saw him and were worried something was wrong. Two fled to warn her, and the rest ambushed the Captain. Only one man was left to watch me. I kicked his manhood when he was distracted and escaped. I came across the Captain so I told him about Taizi’s plot.”
It was then he heard the bell tolling from the watchtower, Pheasant said. He knew the palace was being attacked, but he did not know it was Prince Yo, and while he fought against the rebels with the Captain, the Emperor had ordered the Duke to hold the front gate and had gone himself with his uncle to subdue Taizi. But the Uncle deceived him, leading him directly to the Pure Lady and Prince Yo.
I gazed at the guards who were throwing some bodies into a wheelbarrow. I recognized the Pure Lady’s gown. The body of her son, Prince Yo, was next to her.
“Where is Taizi?” I asked carefully. Somehow I pitied him. Unlike Prince Yo, he was not evil. Perhaps he had never even cared about the throne; perhaps he had cared about his lover more than anything. He had made a choice too, and Pheasant was right to love him.
“The imperial physicians are caring for him right now.”
So he had survived. I hoped he would recover soon. But he would need to pay, either with his life or something else.
Pheasant stretched out his legs. With the wall against our backs, we stared at the gruesome scene without saying anything. He reached for my hand.
“What a night,” he said. “So many lost their lives. Is this worth it?”
His words, tinged with sadness, drifted in the air. His face was serious and weary, marked with lines of determination and sorrow that did not belong to his age. I wished I could say something to make him feel better.
“I don’t know,” I said.
He squeezed my hand.
“And the Emperor?” I asked finally.
Pheasant nodded at a group of people under a tree. They hoisted up a stretcher upon which the Emperor lay. He had lost his hat, his robe was torn, and his whiskers, curled in a sad shape, stuck to his cheeks. When the porters passed us, I could see he was trembling, his right hand bent awkwardly to his chest, his eyes closed. Then suddenly, he opened his eyes and gazed at me. Instantly, I looked away and shied away from Pheasant, my throat tightening. Would he order my death?
Nothing.
“I have to go.” Pheasant rose. “Will I see you…again?”
Of course. I would run through a forest of fire to meet him if necessary. I wished to tell him just that, but then I remembered the people around me. I dipped my head. “Yes, Prince Zhi. Yes.”
He walked to follow the stretcher, a waterfall of golden lights covering his back like a cape. Near him, the branches of the elms and oaks swayed gently. A soft whistle rang as a gust raced down the street, sending a wave of fetid air toward me. I covered my nose. When I put down my hand again, the breeze had changed to a breath of fresh morning air.