“I know.”
“You should thank me.” Jewel cupped her hand around my ear. “See the front of his pants?” It was stained. “I used pistachio nut oil for you.”
The aphrodisiac? I was surprised Jewel would help me. “Thank you, Most Adored…”
An arm pulled me, and I was in his grip. He smelled of strong kumiss, fermented from mare’s milk, the only drink he indulged in within the chamber, I had learned. “Take it off,” he said gruffly.
I untied my robe, aware that Jewel, smiling, was watching me. After the robe fell, I reached for the strings of my bandeau. My hands shook. I had trouble untying it. Jewel went behind me and loosened the strings. The bandeau dropped to the floor, and I pulled down my skirt and loose trousers underneath.
Even though I did not look at myself, I knew I was as beautiful as Jewel. When I had bathed with her years ago, I was just a girl, but now I had developed an attractive, womanly landscape: slender arms, supple slopes, and smooth curves, just like her. And the candlelight shone on my skin, bathing me with a warm golden hue.
“Lovely, lovely indeed.” He nodded, turning me around.
Remembering the paintings, I wanted to fold my arms across my chest but feared he would view it as unwillingness. So I stood with my arms at my sides. I was so close to him, like I was with Pheasant, and there was nothing between the Emperor and me.
I felt dizzy. Jewel peered at me, her eyes gleaming. I could not tell whether she was jealous, but the sight of her, so close, startled me. I stepped back, my hand sweeping a brush on a stool near the bed. A trail of black ink dotted my white tunic on the floor.
How clumsy I was! I reached out. “I’m sorry!”
“Stop!” His big hand blocked me. “What are you doing?”
“I—” I froze. “I—”
He went behind me. A squeeze on my buttock. Then he came before me. A pinch on my nipple. Coughing, he parted his legs and stood solemnly. His night robe slipped off his shoulders, but he did not seem to notice. “Well?”
This was it. I stumbled to the bed and pushed the crimson quilt aside. The silk felt cold, like a dead man’s skin. But that was not all. There was something else soft touching my fingers. A piece of gilded paper.
I squinted at the words. I could not make it out at first, and when I did, I could not believe it. The paper announced Jewel’s crowning as Empress.
I froze. There lay her true intention. She had not given me her night for free. She had prepared the ink and wanted to slip the scroll to the Emperor when the time was right. I did not know when or how, but if he signed it, it would give her the dream of a lifetime.
I straightened and faced the Emperor. The candlelight radiated above his shoulder and blinded my eyes. But my mind had never been clearer. I must take control. I must be the master of my night.
I gave the Emperor a deep bow. “Allow me to serve you, the One Above All. It is the privilege of which I have only dreamed.”
“I don’t need your service.” His voice sounded ominous.
I must do better. I slid my hand across the bed’s smooth redwood frame. “If you don’t mind, the One Above All, I would like to share some inspiring paintings I viewed today. The paintings portray the joy of fish swimming in the water.” The phrase was a common expression for the bedroom affair in the painting. “Or would you like me to describe them to you?”
“No paintings.”
Jewel snickered. I must not be distracted. But she reminded me the Emperor often summoned her. I put on Jewel’s smile, the one that was coy and seductive. “Then perhaps there are other ideas the One Above All might find interesting. If I may suggest—”
“You don’t make a suggestion unless I ask you.”
My heart pounded frantically, but I continued to smile. “How disrespectful I was, the One Above All. I beg your forgiveness!” I tilted my head, and with my eyes half open, I parted my lips and then my legs. “Whatever the One Above All has in mind, I will be happy to oblige.”
There was silence, and at the corner of my eyes, I saw him fingering his whiskers while his eyes flicked to my chest and below.
I could not stop. I walked to him, my back straight, my hips swaying, slowly, one pace at a time, and when I neared him, I kissed his hand.
“What is your name?” He lifted my face, his voice gentler.
“My parents called me Mei.” Meaning little sister, it was only an informal name used among my family, but then, none of the women in China were given official names, even the noble ones, as was the tradition. Men, however, had at least three official names: a given name, a noble calling, and a title.
“Stand straight. Arms at your sides.”
I felt cold, even as the candlelight shed its golden sheen on my skin, but I did not hesitate. I gave him a dip of my head, let my arms drop naturally, and straightened my back.