YUN RONG XIAN (雲榮羡)

  Day 8, 4th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Taishan Province, Tian’an Sect

  The atmosphere had the staleness of bread left out for too long. It wasn’t the chef’s fault; their cooking skills were unrivalled. Nor was it the decorator’s fault; their floral decorations were equally astounding. Rather, it was my birthmother.

  Her sharp words were enough to make anyone lose their appetite.

  “Lady Ze how are you?” the Empress sneered.

  Lady Ze did not reply. The question itself was not the problem. It was the meaning it held: Ze Lujin was once a royal member, until she was disowned for treason. Now, the placement of her seat was situated at the far end of the hall; one seat away from the rabble.

  Of course, Ze Lujin would not be well.

  I fiddled with the tablecloth. I could see why the Empress behaved as she did, but I didn't understand why she did. Everyone already knew she was most powerful woman in the room. There was nothing to gain with such superfluous actions.

  A dish of abalone stew flaked with gold leaf, roasted purple taro, and jellyfish cold salad sat before me. Extravagant considering the time of year, but the necessary star dish of the banquet. It was, after all, the Emperor’s favourite dish. I stirred the stew with a silver spoon and watched the Empress. The ambers that usually danced in her irises had burned out and the corners of her blood-red lips pointed to the ground.

  It was odd, considering how she often enjoyed belittling others.

  Her neck seemed strained, the muscles tense as she twisted her head to face the left side of the hall.

  Feminine voices floated towards us. Two maidservants were serving the Emperor his meal with the kind of allure one would expect from a courtesan. No wonder the Empress was in a bad mood. Who allowed these ladies in? Another giggle exploded from the maidservants as the Emperor returned a smile.

  The Empress clenched her jaw and adjusted the hem of her dress.

  The Emperor’s favourite dish sat untouched before her.

  The Emperor sharply glanced in her direction. “fūrén, why haven’t you touched your food? Are you not enjoying the banquet?”

  She stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice. A plastic smile formed at her lips.

  “Not at all, Your Majesty. I am feeling slightly dizzy. I apologise to Your Majesty for ruining your mood.”

  Despite the distaste that lay evident on her body, her mouth still spouted pleasing words.

  “Nothing can ruin my mood. Please take care of your health,” His Majesty said, as he continued eating.

  The Empress picked up her chopsticks. She slowly placed her hands under the table. If glares could spark a fire, hers would have burned the hall into dust.

  Her glare seemed to relax as she placed the now broken chopstick pieces on the table before her.

  A maidservant bowed in front of me. She held out a pine tray where a teacup sat. “Your Highness.”

  I nodded my thanks and took the teacup. She smiled awkwardly, her cheeks reddening. As I placed the teacup on the table, I watched her skip away, covering her mouth.

  Such an innocent gesture. I wonder how long she’ll live.

  The Empress’ patience waned. She abruptly stood up and noisily clicked her way to the front of the Emperor.

  Bowing, she announced, “Your Majesty. Let me the first to offer you a toast for your prosperous rule!”

  She politely drank the wine. The Emperor inclined his head and raised his own cup to his lips. He gracefully rose to his feet.

  “Yes. As my beautiful wife has reminded me, I should give you all a toast. A toast for my long life!” he paused, then surveyed the court. “So that all of you may prosper!”

  The hall chorused, “Thank you for your graces, Your Majesty.”

  A second of silence passed as everyone drank the wine. I contemplated His Majesty’s words as I watched him cautiously pick at his portion of baked owl smothered with peony sauce. How tricky he was. All his words were measured; a threat hidden within a polite remark. No one would dare to kill the Emperor now.

  The silence stretched like a shadow that crept from the Emperor’s golden throne. Then the silence shattered, as servants hurried to fill their masters’ cup again. But for those few moments, our minds were held by his firm rod.

  He was my father, but I was only his glorified pawn.

  I looked down from my elevated seat. The middle of the hall contained a circular stage, marked out by changes in the pattern of the tiles. And here was where the gift giving occurred. Of the events at the banquet, the gift giving ceremony was the most interesting; behind those givers’ perfect faces hid gleaming daggers like a rotten hawthorn coated in sugar-glaze.

  Lady Ze was first. She slid forward. Shame reeked off her hunched figure. It wasn't that anyone in particular was shaming her; it was the silent judgement that followed. This was the last person of the previous Lian Dynasty. This dismal sight.

  The maidservant that walked with her carried a single wooden box. The beautifully crafted box had the royal seal’s mark carved into the lid. Lady Ze and the maidservant kneeled on the stage.

  “Long live Your Majesty!” Lady Ze proclaimed.

  “At ease.”

  She gave a broad smile and turned to her attendant, “Your Majesty, I have heard that Your Majesty has been having poor quality sleep. Poor quality sleep can have devastating effects on Your Majesty’s health.” The servant opened the box. “Hence, I have crafted these pills to help Your Majesty sleep better.”

  The Emperor smiled and placed down his chopsticks. He leaned forward, squinting as he scanned over the mud brown pills. He flicked his wrist to the maidservant that held the box. The maidservant hurried forward, until she was a foot away from the dais and knelt, being careful not to tip the box.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Eunuch Sun whispered so that only the Emperor should have heard. But I could lip-read.

  “Your Majesty, should you have it poison tested?”

  His Majesty frowned, stroking his chin. Before he could decide, Her Majesty’s voice rang loud and clear. The Empress never missed a single opportunity to drag others into the mud. She was back in her element, fuelled with a too easy snack: Ze Lujin.

  “Ze Lujin, what an interesting gift you have brought,” she said.

  Lady Ze bowed which flared out her dress. It was an elegant masterpiece, but rather cheap for Her Majesty’s fine taste in clothing. She planted her face into the ground.

  “Thank you for your compliment, Your Majesty.”

  The Empress crossed her legs, straightened herself and pulled her hair across her shoulders. She grinned as she toyed with the ends.

  “Even though you have such good intentions, I believe we should have these pills poison tested. Does Your Majesty agree?”

  The Emperor nodded. “Good idea. Call the Imperial Apothecary.”

  He was back to playing the role of the henpecked hubby who followed his wife’s demands. It was the persona that most courtiers believed of him, and how my father had successfully managed to keep the power of the Sui Household—the Empress’ maiden family—at bay all these years.

  Of course, there were times he occasionally showed his true colours…but they weren’t overt and if one were a simple minister, it would be easy to misunderstand the hidden meanings of his words.

  I didn’t know who was more frightening. The predictable but hell-born punishments from the Empress, or the rare but certain death from the Emperor.

  “Your Majesty,” Lady Ze abruptly said. She fiddled her hands, and her eyes darted all over the place. “Your Majesty, I swear on my life that it is not poisoned. Does Your Majesty not trust me?”

  Why would she say such a thing? She was drawing unnecessary attention to herself. Was it deliberate? Unlikely, given how no one from the Ze family could successfully act.

  “If you have nothing to hide, why do you object?” Eunuch Sun inquired, just at the Imperial Apothecary announced his presence.

  Lady Ze inclined her head in defeat.

  “I apologise for my rudeness, Your Majesty,” she said.

  A eunuch took the box from Lady Ze’s attendant. The Imperial Apothecary took a silver needle from a calf-skin case and inserted the tip into the pill. He removed the needle and squinted at it.

  He bowed to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, it has passed the test.” The man turned to pack up his box and Lady Ze rose to her feet.

  The wooden box slammed against the tiles, splintering into shards. Pills scattered across the floor like frightened mice, darting into every corner. The eunuch crumpled beside the wreckage, his limbs convulsing violently as thin veins rose beneath the surface of his skin. His face contorted, twitching with erratic spasms, like a slaughtered bird in its final flutters—until a thin stream of white foam spilled from his mouth, sealing the moment with grim finality.

  It was the eunuch who had taken Lady Ze’s box.

  The little peace and harmony that kept the court together disintegrated into a pile of smoking ash.

  Lady Ze fell on her knees. “Your Majesty! I beg you. Please find who did this! Someone must have tampered with my gift to Your Majesty! Your Majesty please!”

  The Emperor’s spoke softly, “Imperial Apothecary?”

  “Your Majesty,” Imperial Apothecary Yue replied.

  “Is the eunuch alive?”

  The apothecary placed two fingers on the neck of the servant to search for a pulse. At last, the apothecary planted his face into the ground as he bowed. “He is dead.”

  A gasp rippled through the courtiers.

  The Empress pointed a finger at Lady Ze and her voice adopted a high-pitched shrill, “Arrest her!”

  Lady Ze kowtowed. “Your Majesty, I am innocent! Please let me explain! Your Majesty! I have been framed!”

  “Arrest that witch!”

  “Hold on.” The chaos hushed.

  The Empress wrinkled her nose. “Your Majesty, she tried to poison you. You cannot be lenient.”

  The Emperor offered a pleasant smile at the Empress, then looked at the apothecary. “You said that there was no poison in the pills. Then why is the eunuch dead?”

  Imperial Apothecary Yue bowed. “It is true the pills are not poisoned, Your Majesty. However, I have not tested the wood of the box, Your Majesty.”

  The Emperor gestured at the box. “Please do it then.”

  The apothecary fluffed over the box, cautiously placing the silver needle on the remains of the lid. The silver tarnished to an obsidian black. He bowed to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, the box is poisoned.”

  A new wave of panic sloshed through the courtiers.

  The Empress screeched, “Drag her out!”

  Immediately, Ze Zhiwei rushed to his mother’s side. The guards violently shoved him back as he shouted, “Please spare her, Your Majesties. My mother is careless, but she would never poison anyone. Please, this must be a misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding?” the Empress scoffed.

  Ze Zhiwei defiantly raised his head to face his monarchs as he retorted, “If the box was poisoned, why hasn't my mother died?”

  The Empress tilted her head. “No poisoner would die by their own poison.”

  She was enjoying the scene a little too much. Frankly, it didn’t matter if there had been a poisoning incident or not; when the Empress wanted to punish someone, she could even use toilet water as evidence.

  Ze Zhiwei eyes sparkled with a fire I had only glimpsed once.

  There’s some sort of power that comes over people when their loved ones are in danger. A strength, some described it as. A weakness, others said. I personally saw it as asset; it always paid to know who cared for who. That was the way to motivate people.

  “And, Your Majesty, how would you know this? Unless of course, you’ve done it in the past—”

  Her Majesty boomed, “How dare you speak to me like that? Guards! Drag them out!” As the guards surrounded them, she turned to the Emperor. “Let me investigate this.”

  His stone face stared at Lady Ze. “It has been solved already.”

  “Your Majesty, I believe that others are involved. How else did this gift pass the examination?”

  Red eyes burned down on Yun Shiqi.

  The princess’ usually still face creased as the Empress commanded her to kneel. Fear danced in her irises and her neck muscles tightened. Any trace of colour was gone from her face.

  The final nail in the coffin. A royal banquet was not complete without the Empress turning it against the princess. I had grown accustomed to it: the show always began in the same way, and by the end I would have seen what I wanted to learn.

  People often revealed themselves in pain.

  And my elder sister was no exception.

  Still…there was something poetic about her silent acceptance. The restraint. The dignity she tried to preserve even when the Empress ripped her apart again and again.

  I could intervene now to soften the blow. It would make me look noble. Caring. Calm. If I did, that would end the show.

  Emperor Tai Quan was facing my direction. A forlorn expression shrouded his face. It was an expression he made often, and it only ever showed during one kind of situation: when the Empress stood against Yun Shiqi.

  An expression of pity and guilt.

  Which would he choose: to worsen the Empress’ mood by defending Yun Shiqi or to allow his precious daughter to publicly humiliated. It was silly to debate these scenarios. We knew what option he would always choose in the end.

  It was never my elder sister.

  That was where my duty, as his filial expendable son, lay. The Emperor chose the politically correct option, and I made sure he didn’t live to regret his decision.

  And that’s why he was looking at me.

  I better calm the Empress then. I cleared my throat.

  “Mother, Princess Changping is not—”

  A sharp twist of pain rippled through my body as if on cue. But I was not acting. I tried steadying myself with a breath, but it came out shallow and raspy. Blood rose in my throat and spilled from my lips, splattering across the tea table as I collapsed into the seat behind me.

  My head lolled to the side, and all I could see was my silver teacup—still, serene, almost mocking.

  I should have guessed it would be poisoned.

  I hadn’t expected my body to give—