The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology)

When I raised my head again, she had turned and walked away. Her pace was assured and steady, reminding me I should not underestimate her.

I turned around and ran back to tell Pheasant about Rain. I could not stay after that. I walked back to my chamber, my mind in disarray.

? ? ?

I dreamed of Father that night. We were at our family’s grave site, constructing his coffin. I was so small, not yet five then. He cut the planks and hammered the nails while I sealed the seams with fresh pine resin and coated the wood with thick lacquer. Together, we also selected golden grave goods, fifty-five of them, to match his governor’s status. That was my favorite moment from childhood. Then suddenly, he looked into my eyes. I thought he was going to smile, but he frowned.

I awoke. He knew I was seeing Pheasant. He was warning me. Even though he did not speak a word, I could hear him saying, “You’re so close, Mei. So close. You must do what is the best for your family, not for yourself. Don’t lose yourself, Mei.”

A slab of heaviness pressed to my heart. I put my chin on my knees. Had I been in the palace for so long that I had forgotten about why I had wanted to come to the palace? Forgotten about my father?

He was a prudent man who was most concerned about his heir, who would be responsible for his burial rite and carry his name after his death. When Little Sister was born, with Mother in her forties, he realized he would not have a male heir. To ensure he would receive a proper burial when he died, he devoted his time to preparing for his afterlife himself. He selected the best cypress for his coffin, constructed it with me, and when he finished it, he draped the oiled cloth over the coffin to prevent it from decay and placed it on the ceiling joists in our reception hall. He also made his white silk funeral garment, stitched with clouds and pines, symbols of eternal life in Heaven, and purchased white silk slippers padded with goose feathers.

But after the monk’s prophecy, he knew I could still carry his name and, even better, I could bring his legacy to a height even a boy could not achieve.

Would I disappoint him?

I could not let my passion ruin my dream, my father’s dream. Especially since Rain knew my secret.

I had to stop seeing Pheasant.

? ? ?

I sensed him before I saw him, standing on the other side of the bridge in the garden. Gripping the basket of clean laundry, I paused on the trail leading to the wooden bridge. It was not a coincidence Pheasant had found me. I had stopped coming to the garden, and when I came across him with the Emperor in the Outer Palace, I had avoided him.

“So this is what everyone is talking about,” Plum said, walking beside me and Daisy. She did not notice Pheasant, nor was she aware that I had fallen behind them. “And it’s serious. Even the Emperor cannot stop the gossip. Who do you think is the kingdom’s foe, Mei?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. The prophecy had spread all over Chang’an, and everywhere, people whispered.

“Look, it’s Prince Zhi,” Plum whispered to me. “He’s looking at us.”

Daisy’s bosoms rose and fell dramatically. “So handsome. I think I am going to faint.”

“I forgot to bring the sheets from the laundry. I’ll go get them,” I said. “You can go without me.”

“Are you certain?” Plum asked, unsuspecting. I had not told her about Pheasant and me. I trusted her, but for her own sake, it was better that she did not know.

I nodded and, to make my lie appear real, I retraced the path to the servants’ quarters with my basket.

Giggling, Plum and Daisy passed Pheasant, their hands covering their mouths. They walked to a path near the bamboo grove and disappeared. I stood where I was for a moment and then walked to the bridge.

“Where are you going, sweet face?” He was still standing there, not moving. He looked pale, and the stubble on his chin had grown thick, like a dark cloud. His white tunic was crumpled. He looked as though he had not slept well for weeks.

A pang rose in my chest. “To the wardrobe chamber.” I reached for the wooden rail for support.

He coughed, looking awkward, nothing like the fellow who used to leap off haystacks with grace. “I saw you at the imperial stable a moment ago with my father. They were branding horses. You probably didn’t notice me.”

His voice was hoarse, and each word hit me like a hammer. Of course I had noticed him. But I could not tell him that. I turned to look at the pond under the bridge, where a goldfish leaped, and the water rippled. I dug my nails into the rail. “There were many people there, and the Kashmir horses were of superb quality.”

“Right,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t like branding horses.”

I knew it, but I said, “The Emperor does. He told me the horses needed to be branded for their age, speed, breed, and condition, even their agility and stamina.” Pheasant had been the one who had told me that. I bit my lip.

He thrust his head back and ran his fingers through his long, loose hair. “I wanted to tell you. I talked to Rain. She promised she would not tell my father about us. So will you come again?”

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