‘Little Melon.’ The princess stubbornly pulled at Three’s hand, tugging her across a garden bridge. ‘Hm. Xiao Gua. Little Melon. I don’t see the appeal.’
‘Can’t you just call me “Three”?’ Her bck boots thumped across the wooden pnks, finger-thin braids spilling over her shoulder.
‘What? Two can, but I can’t?’ The princess shot her a sour look.
‘No, it’s just that —’ It feels… wrong.
That old name didn’t match the shape of the princess’s lips.
Like calling a withered corpse a treasure; like calling a snake a swan; like calling a handful of bckened ash a pail of gold dust.
‘I’m Three now. I’m not “Little Melon” anymore.’ She swallowed and continued, ‘Besides, it reminds me of bad things. My siblings only ever call me that when they’re…’
She didn’t have to finish.
‘Well, good riddance.’ The princess stepped off the bridge, her shoes pressing into the cobbled path. ‘In that case, why don’t we think of a new name? Or else I’ll just keep calling you “Chicken Feet”.’
She barked a ugh.
‘No, seriously.’ The shadow of jasmine leaves danced over the princess’s white mourning garb. ‘The whole time in the city I couldn’t call you anything. It was all “you” this, “you” that! Surely, we can come up with something better.’
She snorted, ‘Be my guest, Your Highness.’
‘Call me Xi Yu,’ The princess said, ‘my given name. My courtesy name… comes from the lips of enemies far too often.’
A pause. She tested the roll of that name on her tongue again but didn’t put the life into it; the sound fizzled out before it could touch her lips. ‘Whatever you want.’
‘Do you have an idea for a name?’
‘No.’ She looked up. A few stray leaves blew across the whitened sky. ‘I ck any knowledge of literature. If I must have a name, I’d rather it come from you.’
‘Alright then. But do you have a surname? Or one that you’d like in particur?’
She paused and thought as they walked through the meandering gardens.
Her old name, Xiao Gua, didn’t qualify. Nor did her parents’ — she refused to stain herself with their cn surname.
But then she thought of the gssy waters in the princess’s pace.
‘I do,’ she said. ‘My surname — let it be Hu, the character from the word “ke”.’
Xi Qian’e smiled. It was blindingly bright, like the glint that reflected off hard ice and snow. ‘That’s good, that’s really good,’ she said. ‘I’ll keep that in mind. Your given name and surname will complement each other, just you wait.’
She whispered, ‘Thanks… Xi Yu.’
The Hall of Heavenly Harmony loomed out from behind a tree; its shadows curled under the curved eaves like upturned cws.
‘Then it will,’ said the princess. ‘Today, you’re coming with me into the Hall. Then, we’ll both get into my brother’s carriage — he will be my witness. You must slip out and kill the Fifth Prince as One would. Don’t be seen.’ A pause. ‘You will be fine, even if you’re not at peak condition. Right, Chicken Feet?’
‘Of course… Xi Yu.’
The princess — no, Xi Qian’e — smiled, but then it faltered and withered away. The sight of it had something curling up inside Three — she wished to push the corners of those lips back up into their gentle curve. ‘You promised me.’
Then, they walked up the steps and entered the hall.
She was immediately assaulted by waves of feverish heat. The hall was, once again, filled with bronze cauldrons, all stuffed with burning charcoal, vomiting a grey haze into the air. A sneeze echoed; tilting her head, she caught a fsh in the rafters, most likely a fellow shadow guard.
It was probably One.
There was an emptiness up there. It took her a beat to pce her finger on it, but then she realised —
Four’s corpse was finally taken down.
But the disappearance of his body seemed to be a rather meagre thing,
Eyes came to rest on her face, on her red skirt and embroidered robes, on the golden white coat that fell on her shoulders.
They whispered.
The princess ignored them all with practised ease; it was with an awkwardness that Three mimicked her, like a duck struggling to copy a swan.
Each gaze that settled on her neck’s scar had waves of irritation bubbling over her. She wanted, so badly, to smash a bottle of Five’s itching powder over their heads. It would be even better she could stuff it up their —
‘Three,’ Xi Qian’e whispered, sitting down at a low desk, ‘just stand behind me.’
She nodded and took her pce at the princess’s right. Heat scorched her through the coat and robes, bringing with it a burning warmth. Shifting a little, she gently hid the other’s cheek in her shadow, blocking the fmes.
The other let out a slow breath.
The emperor walked in dramatically te. She took her position; beside her, having long waited for her arrival, were the empress and imperial noble consort.
The two men had dressed to impress. Their white clothes wrapped around them, pinched together at the shoulders and waist, outlining rippling yers of toned muscle and smooth skin.
Standing here, on the tiled floor, was nothing like squatting in the beams. It was as though everything was reminding Three of her pce — the way the emperor and her lovers sat above them, the way sharp eyes would dig into her skin, the way the food was served on the table spoke volumes of hierarchy —
Shadow Guard Three was a very, very small sort of creature.
She suddenly wondered what sort of name Xi Qian’e would give her.
The morning assembly went on for a while. Unlike the previous ones she had attended — ahem, sneaked into — the heirs didn’t say or contribute much, other than a quick mention from the Chancellor that the Third Princess’s private leave from the Imperial City had expired.
It was quickly glossed over.
The Secretariat then proposed to the Minister of Finance to fund the Northern Army; the Minister of Works argued that the farmers in the south couldn’t fuel the soldiers on another campaign.
It was then that the First Prince said, ‘Since the Northern Army is to accept a new general, is it not true that we should smoke out Madam Jian’s remaining influences with a new victory? We are not to conquer another kingdom, but merely defend our borders.’
They argued for a while longer; the empress soon came to support the Ministry of Finance, while the imperial noble consort argued for the First Prince. Their dispute was soon to erupt when the emperor let out a tinkling chuckle.
Silence fell again.
‘Darlings,’ the woman ughed, her voice not louder than a whisper, ‘do try not to bore Us.’
The empress frowned. But then, the furrow in his brows was forcefully smoothed out. ‘Apologies, Your Majesty.’
‘Don’t worry, dear. You’re still Our favourite.’ At that, the emperor waved her hand and decred, ‘There is no need to pce more pressure on the Southern agriculturalprovinces. End of court.’
Three immediately tapped at Xi Qian’e’s shoulder. ‘I suggest we leave now. We may not be able to fight in the Hall, but outside is a different story.’ Helping the other to her feet, she added, ‘They might try to y traps.’
‘You’re right,’ Xi Qian’e murmured. ‘Let’s go. Xi Chanzui is waiting for us.’
They got up, the heat of the burners searing into Three’s back. But they could only walk a few steps before the emperor called, ‘Three. Stop.’
She halted. Her master did as well.
They watched the other ministers trickle out the hall. The First and Second Princes paused, but quickly moved on. The Sixth Prince didn’t hesitate to walk out.
The Fifth Prince and Seventh Princess left together. Five followed them. Seven was nowhere to be found.
She turned back to face the woman on the throne.
‘Our dear niece.’ The emperor gave a quick nod to Three’s princess; she then ordered another guard, Eight, ‘Protect her while We talk to the little one.’
The man nodded and fshed to the princess’s side.
‘Three, follow Us.’
She jogged up to the other. Turning back, she caught a flutter of something terrible on Xi Qian’e’s face — a hint of anger, fear, a bit of confusion ced with panic.
But the order.
She forced herself to turn away, to swallow down that terrible nausea rising in her chest and follow the coldly smiling emperor, footsteps echoing in the empty void.
The emperor let the empress and imperial noble consort follow them out of the hall but had them leave immediately after. Then, she led Three to the drawing room.
A table with almond biscuits. Latticed windows. Wooden floor.
It was the room she often gave her reports in — the one where she had decred the death of her princess’s mother.
‘Help yourself, Three.’ The emperor sat down in a heap of silks, a nguid smile on her face as her left leg casually crossed over the other. ‘We won’t stop you today.’
She froze. The air felt too thick to breathe in, even with the crisp chill of autumn. ‘I’m not hungry today, Your Majesty.’
The emperor’s smile turned into a hard, ft line. ‘How strange. You don’t wish to rejoice?’ Then, the ruler leaned forward — though the woman was looking up at her, that upturned chin, those narrowed, cold eyes, that flickering disappointment, had Three fighting a chill, a flinch, back under her skin.
The sun that came through the windows suddenly wasn’t so warm.
The emperor whispered, ‘Three, is it Us that is the problem?’
She looked back at the pte of biscuits. It was as though the almonds weren’t nuts but rather the glittering eye of the military tiger tally; to pick one up and put it in her mouth felt wrong, as though doing so would betray her princess, this new Xi Yu.
Her silence seemed to answer the emperor; a displeased frown on the other’s face, the woman spat, ‘Eat it, Three.’
She reached out and ate one. It was tasteless on her tongue, crumbling away like ash. Dryly swallowing, she said, ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’
‘You’ve changed,’ the emperor said. ‘Is it because of Four and Six? Or… that eldest niece of Ours?’
A pause. ‘I don’t know, Your Majesty.’
‘Why don’t We reassign you to the First Prince? He’s most likely to survive.’ Lifting a teapot, the emperor poured out two cups, handing one to her. ‘He also has more assets. A better master, if you will.’
The scalding heat of the tea burned through the porcein, spilling onto her hands in waves. ‘I don’t want to.’ She swallowed again, the princess’s cold smirk floating up into her head. It softened something in her, in the way that hot tea or sweet permissions or even chicken feet couldn’t.
In the way that… her young miss wouldn’t.
She let a small smile rise to her lips and said, ‘I like my master.’
Then a disapproving, cold tut.
‘Really. You like her.’ The emperor emptied her cup and pced it back onto the table with a hard click. ‘We thought that you, of all people, would seize the chance to live.’
‘She will survive,’ Three said. ‘I will make sure she does.’
‘…You have turned Us down twice now, child.’
‘If Your Majesty had asked ten days earlier,’ she said, her head bowed, ‘I would have agreed.’
That had the other falling silent. ‘Three,’ the emperor said, sliding a white jade across the table, ‘Our offer still stands. It stood two years ago, and it still stands now. The seat of noble consort will always be open to you.’
The jade glinted on the table. It was a disc white like mutton fat, as long as her thumb in diameter and had a long bck tassel hanging from it. Carved on the jade’s surface was the imperial surname, the lines of the character Xi smooth and catching the light.
She could only shake her head.
A darkened, heavy gaze nded on her neck.
‘So be it.’ The emperor chucked and waved a hand, ‘Get out. Go find your little princess.’ A pause, and she added, ‘Take the token with you. If you change your mind, feel free to find me.’
