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

I put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Pheasant.”

He buried his head in my gown. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. I could feel his frustration, his helplessness, and his sadness rise to touch me, tap my own well of grief, and make me part of him. I held him tighter. I wanted to tell him that tomorrow things would be fine and that tomorrow Taizi would forgive him. I even wanted to tell him I would like to meet him in the garden again.

Footsteps sounded behind me. I raised my head. The Emperor’s golden regalia. I dropped my arms and shrank from Pheasant.

It was too late.

He lunged toward me and slapped me. The force sent me spinning. I tried to grab the stone lamp near the tree, but I slipped and crashed against something behind me. Blackness cloaked me, and for a long moment, I could not see. I heard only voices. Many voices. Men’s. Women’s. Shouts. Gasps. Groans. Arguments.

“Father!” Pheasant’s voice was loud and desperate. “What are you doing?”

“Vile woman. How dare she seduce you!”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I saw her with my own eyes!” the Emperor bellowed. “She put her hands on you. What a wanton woman! She deserves to die!”

“You can’t!”

“Don’t you dare protect her!”

“It’s not what you think. It’s not! She didn’t seduce me. I did! I seduced her. She was unwilling. She didn’t wish to betray you.”

“You!”

“I am to blame. It is my fault. All mine! Punish me. Punish me, not her!”

I groaned. Pain erupted in my head, but I pushed against the ground, trying to rise. A group of women stepped away from me to stand beside the Emperor. I could not see their faces. Or were they women? They wavered before me like empty gowns.

“Guards!” The Emperor’s voice stabbed my heart. “Lash him. Twenty rods!”

Many legs flashed before me. They lengthened and transformed into full figures, hazy but menacing, and they rushed toward Pheasant and shoved him to the ground. Their arms raised high, their rods long and thick, they struck. A thud. Followed by a heavy groan. Another thud. Then another groan.

“Stop it, stop it,” I said.

But the awful sound continued, echoing, drowning out my voice, and there were waves of groans—thick, lingering, and painful—stabbing my heart. Then nothing.

“He passed out!” someone shouted.

I jerked. There. Pheasant, lying on the ground, the back of his white robe a splash of crushed rose petals.

“Take him to the physicians.” The Emperor’s golden robe stood before me. I shrank in fear. But I would have liked to follow Pheasant, to see him and hold his hands. I would have liked to call his name and let him know I was there. “Kneel.”

I struggled to rise. I could not feel my hands, feet, or knees. A salty taste burst in my mouth, and something wet dripped on my hand. I did not wipe it away. The Emperor was going to punish me. He would never forgive me. Everything was over.

“You shall never rise again.”

He strode away. Behind him trailed a group of women. One stopped, the corner of her small mouth pulled up. I blinked a few times before I realized who she was.

Rain.

This time, she had succeeded. She had followed me and chosen the perfect time to expose me and Pheasant. What else could I say? I had been careless. I had forgotten what kind of court I lived in.

Soon she left too.

At first, I could hear the whispers of Plum and the other attendants and the gasps of the servants. But soon, all faded. I was alone.

The sun, crawling to the middle of the heavenly dome, grasped me with its talons of brutal heat. By late afternoon, my vision blurred, and my knees felt ready to snap off my body. A harsh voice, from a eunuch who watched me, scolded me every time I slouched. Countless times, I collapsed sideways, and each time the voice berated me and forced me to keep my position.

The moon replaced the sun, and the sun returned. Still I knelt.





33


“Mei, Mei!”

Father’s voice. Faint but urgent.

I lifted my head. And there it was, its yellow, bulbous eyes locked on me. It had a striped torso, lean and majestic, its flinty paws clawing the grass. It stared at me from near the pine branch a few paces from me.

A tiger.

Time slowed. For a moment I looked into its eyes, unable to speak or move. How beautiful they were, the eyes of the powerful. It looked complacent, content, and arrogant, the epitome of beauty and supremacy. It did not appear to care about me, the forest, the sky, or anything around it. It was an animal that was used to killing and knew it could do it easily. It was a king who could always have his wish, a king who could never be defied. And it wanted me.

“Run, run now!”

Father’s voice tore through the forest and hit my ears. I turned around.

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