“I’m fine.” I looked down at my dress. An ugly patch of mud had stained the back hem. I groaned; the last thing I wanted was untidiness. “You seem to know the palace so well. What is this place?”
“It’s abandoned. No one comes here anymore. Come.” He went to sit on the pavilion’s windowsill and leaned against the latticed panel. The woodwork on the panel was broken, and the pavilion’s ground was covered with fallen leaves. “I want to show you something.”
I sat across from him, keeping my distance, although I yearned to be close to him.
“Here.” He took my hand and left something in my palm. Carved out of opaque green jade, the beautiful piece had onyx eyes, minute gold feet, an elegantly curved back, and a smooth, supple belly.
“Silkworm!” My eyes widened. Silkworms were precious enough, but a jade silkworm was priceless. “Where did you get this?”
“It’s my gift to you. Do you like it?”
I adored it. Stroking its smooth surface, I could not take my eyes off it. It was true what people said about jade. It calmed the nerves and brought tranquillity to the bearer. “Why do you want to give me a gift?”
“It was my mother’s. She loved silkworms. She said the jade silkworm would bring skillful weavers good fortune. If you were a weaver with poor skills, it would transform you into a capable one.”
His mother must have been a weaver in the silkworm nursery. The palace often recruited weavers, as well as their family members who possessed certain skills. That was, perhaps, how Pheasant ended up working in the stable. “Are you certain about this? It’s your mother’s.”
“Yes, it’s worth a lot of money.” He grinned.
He had a knack for making me smile. “You know I don’t mean that. Why do you want to give it to me?”
“Because I like you.”
Did he mean that? Happiness bloomed in my heart. “But what about your mother?” I stroked the silkworm. “She’ll be mad if she discovers it went missing.”
“She died years ago.” His head drooped, and a cloud of sadness covered his face.
I reached for his hand. His mother had died, and mine remained unreachable. In a way, we suffered the same hollowness, where the absence of motherly affection settled in our hearts like a wound.
“I cannot accept this.” I returned the jade silkworm to his hand.
“What’s wrong, sweet face?”
“A Talent is not allowed to possess precious gifts, you know that.”
“But you won’t tell anyone.”
Of course I would not, and I would keep it close to my heart and never let it leave my sight. “But I still think you should keep it yourself.”
“If my mother were alive, she would be happy I gave this to you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “This is the silkworm; only the most worthy should keep it. If anyone should have it, it’s you. Besides”—he stuffed the jade silkworm back in my hand—“I stopped seeing Rain. Well, I’ll see her in the court. I can’t avoid her. It’s just you won’t catch me with her in the haystacks anymore. And”—he hesitated—“I never cared for her. She came to me.”
I closed my fingers on the jade, my heart swelling with delight. He had given me the precious jade as a token of his promise.
But even if he had given me a rock, it would have been more valuable than any gem. But I could not let him know that.
“I don’t want to lie to you.” I opened my scent pouch and placed the silkworm there, my fingers lingering on the pouch’s opening as if it were a gate to happiness. “I can fetch a nice gown with this.”
He looked dismayed and then realized I was teasing him. He caught my arms. “If I see this silkworm anywhere other than your pouch, I swear I’ll never talk to you again, you sour girl.”
I struggled to free myself, but he was stronger than I thought. “Get away from me.” I giggled. “I’m not your girl, or one of your girls.”
“If you say so.”
He lowered his head, and his chin brushed my forehead. It pricked me with a strange sensation. I met his gaze. His arms, so hard and solid, were like nothing I had ever touched. I wished to stay there forever, to be close to him and feel his heart beating next to mine, but I also felt like a fish caught in a net, terrified about what awaited me.
His lips fell on mine. Gentle, like a breeze. Soft, like smooth silk. Sweet, like a summer’s dream.
“Will you come here next time?” he whispered.
I thought of Father and Mother. And the Emperor, who had hanged the maids for putting him in the wrong dress. Would he whip me to threads if he knew about Pheasant and me?
But I whispered back. “Yes,” I said. “Yes.”
AD 642
the Sixteenth Year of Emperor Taizong’s Reign of Peaceful Prospect
EARLY SPRING
13
I was ordered to go to the Chengxiang Hall to receive my apples, the first fruit allowance of the year. I was excited. I had not tasted fresh fruit for months, as Talents did not have a fruit allowance in the winter. The ladies of third degree and above, however, received fruit every month, which came from the imperial ice pits where many fresh fruits—pears, melons, oranges, and berries—were stored.