His Mask of Retribution (23 page)

A stretch of dirt road separated the inn from the town centre, which was a cluster of wooden buildings overlooking the market area. Beyond this road, the cities would shrink to the tiny villages and settlements barely known to the heart
of the empire.

Pearl’s future was left to the open road and to fate now. Perhaps it was a better situation than his. His sister was free without the weight of the family name bearing down on her. As eldest son, as only son, preserving their honour was his burden.

An attendant brought his horse from the stable. As he headed toward the animal, a small, grey figure shot out into the street.

‘My lord!’

A quick glance revealed the teahouse girl scurrying in his direction. He turned his back on her as he took the reins from the attendant.

‘My lord, please wait.’ She sounded harried and out of breath behind him. He didn’t answer as he faced the horse to the street, leading him by the bridle.

‘I must beg your pardon,’ she continued, her footsteps trailing behind his.

So, none of the impudence she’d shown the previous night. He could be generous. It was a small insult considering, and not worth the trouble.

‘Granted.’

He braced his foot in the stirrup to prepare to mount, when a tug at his sleeve stopped him.

The young woman recoiled as he turned to her. ‘Please. Forgive my intrusion, honourable sir. My lord…’

The list of courtesies made him impatient. He frowned as he waited for her to finish. She clasped her hands together nervously and spoke faster.

‘I’ve been thrown out by the teahouse owner!’

Her bottom lip trembled and she looked away, trying to hide the unsightly outburst of emotion. Her hair was tied in a simple fashion and allowed to sweep down over one shoulder. For the first time, he noticed that her eyes were red and slightly swollen.

‘That was not my intention,’ he replied gravely.

Once again, he tried to mount. Again, she reached for him. This time, he stopped before she needed to tug at him. She took two steps away instead of one when he swung around. Did propriety mean nothing to her?

‘I am truly sorry for ruining your robe. I’ll wash it myself,’ she promised. ‘If you can just speak to the proprietor and his wife.’

The horse tossed his head, agitated with the delay. Fei Long felt the same agitation growing within him.

‘This matter is not my concern.’

‘I’m being punished—’

‘As you should be,’ he replied simply.

There was no cruelty in his words. Despite being attacked without provocation, he hadn’t demanded retribution. She was fortunate he didn’t believe in beating servants.

‘But I’ve apologised.’ She blocked his path now, this willow-thin girl who was all eyes and hair. ‘Sincerely, humbly, with all my soul, apologised. Please take pity. Won’t you help me?’

He made a scoffing noise at the back of his throat, which seemed to startle her. She frowned at him.

‘These are your amends to make, not mine, young miss. Go humble yourself before your master and mistress and make your plea with them.’ He started to lead the horse forwards, trying to put some distance between them to show that the matter was closed. ‘Besides, you are not sorry at all.’

For a second, her eyes flashed. Her mouth hardened much like it had back in the teahouse before he found himself drenched in cold tea. If she’d had anything in hand to throw, he would have prepared to duck.

Less than a breath later, her expression grew plaintive and accommodating. ‘But I am sorry, my lord.’ She padded beside him, taking two steps for each of his one. ‘I’ve worked for the teahouse since I was a child. There’s nowhere else I can go. A girl like me out in the streets…’

Her voice trailed away in defeat and Fei Long halted. He was reminded of Pearl, though there was no reason for it. The girl looked nothing like his sister. Unlike Pearl, she was thin, hard-headed and she had a mouth on her.

He’d spared Pearl from the political marriage that their father had arranged, but now she was left to wander without a home. He would always wonder if his actions had truly been a kindness. Unlike Pearl, this tea girl didn’t have anyone by her side.

‘How old are you?’ he asked.

She was taken aback by the question. ‘Nineteen years.’

A little older than Pearl, but that might be a benefit. He already had a sense that this teahouse girl was much shrewder than his sheltered younger sister.

‘Can you read and write?’

‘Only numbers.’

A wispy cloud of an idea had begun to form while he was wallowing at the teahouse last night. A thin spark of light, before it had been effectively doused by a cascade of cold tea flung in his face. The plan came back now as he stared at the same culprit who’d snapped him out of those musings.

‘Smile,’ he said.

She blinked at him warily, then forced her mouth upwards in what ended up looking more like a grimace. He looked down at her feet next. They shrank back from his scrutiny, as she curled her toes back within the slippers.

His gaze returned to her face and he kept his open perusal for assessment purposes only: dark eyes set against smooth skin. Fair enough to pass for a lady’s. The set of her jaw was too hard and her face was on the thin side, though her features were not unpleasant to look at if she didn’t scowl so. Softened a bit she could even be…pretty. Not that beauty was required for what he had in mind.

‘You are more peculiar than I thought,’ she muttered, backing away.

With her head lifted and shoulders raised, as they were right now, she took on a semblance of righteousness and pride that might just be suitable for the part.

He let go of the reins. ‘I have a proposal for you.’

‘I know exactly what sort of proposal you mean.’ She shook an accusing finger at him. ‘I don’t care how rich you are, I was right to pour that tea on you.’

Now it was his turn to pursue her. And it took some effort. She was walking fast down the street.

‘Young miss, let me explain.’

Her step quickened. ‘Leave me alone. I may not be learned or wear expensive clothes like you, but I’m a respectable girl. I won’t do…do
that
.’

‘
That
wasn’t what I meant.’

The townsfolk paused in their morning stroll through the marketplace. Their discussion was starting to gather attention.

Fei Long angled himself in front of her, cutting off her escape. He dropped his tone. ‘What I’m proposing is very respectable. A matter of imperial duty, in fact.’

She snorted. He was suddenly convinced that before him was the answer to his dilemma. The teahouse girl had nowhere to go and he needed someone to replace Pearl. Khitan was a rough, untamed land compared to the empire. This she-demon was bold enough to carry off such a deception. She was delicate in appearance at least, and not so hardened that she couldn’t be schooled. There was little elegance about her now, but that could be changed.

There was much work to do before she could pass as a daughter from a good family. They didn’t have much time, but he was convinced it could be done. It had to be done.

‘My family name is Chang, personal name Fei Long,’ he began. ‘My father was an official within the Ministry of Works and our family lives in the capital city. Have you ever been to Changan?’

She looked over one shoulder, then the other, as if reassuring herself that they were indeed in a crowded public area and she was safe from his clutches. ‘No,’ she answered finally.

‘What’s your name, young miss?’ he asked.

If he could get past this polite exchange, then he had a chance of convincing her. Two strangers who exchanged names were, of course, no longer strangers. Even peasants would understand those rules of courtesy.

She took her time assessing him, taking in the height and breadth of him, and staring at the sword in his belt. The girl would duck and bow when necessary, but this was no shy and sheltered nightingale. She had a boldness within her that Pearl lacked. He waited anxiously for her reply. For the first time in weeks, hope burned inside him, embodied in this tiny reed of a girl.

‘I don’t know of my family name,’ she replied, still hesitant. ‘But I’m called Yan Ling.’

* * *

‘It’s called
heqin
,’ he explained.

The nobleman looked to her for acknowledgement and she had to shake her head. Fei Long led his horse down the street while she walked beside him, falling a few paces behind in deference.

‘An arranged peace marriage,’ he continued. ‘My sister was selected to go to the land of Khitan to be married to a foreign lord.’

So the young woman had been his sister. ‘Where is Khitan?’

‘North of the Taiyuan prefecture.’

She nodded. They continued for a few steps.

‘Where is Taiyuan?’

He paused and her face grew hot as he regarded her, but there was no need to be ashamed. Of course he knew more than she did about foreign lands. She’d only left town a few times to accompany her master to major festivals. The thought of leaving town now with Fei Long frightened her, but the thought of being left to the streets frightened her more.

‘I can show you a map some time,’ he said, in a tone that was not unkind.

She wasn’t entirely convinced of his mad tale. And if she did believe him, was it even possible for her to pose as his sister? Everything she said or did felt awkward next to Chang Fei Long. Anyone could see they weren’t from the same breed.

‘You said they were expecting a princess. I’m no princess.’

‘Neither was my sister, Pearl.’

He slowed his stride to match hers and Yan Ling felt especially small, more from the authority in his bearing than from his actual size.

‘A past emperor gave one of his favourite daughters away in an alliance marriage to a barbarian chieftain,’ he explained. ‘The story has since become quite famous. Have you heard of it?’

He paused to look at her and again she shook her head. They didn’t speak of the comings and goings of the imperial family in their little teahouse.

‘The princess wept and begged for her father to reconsider, composing verses of poetry lamenting what she considered her exile from her beloved empire,’ he recounted. ‘But the Son of Heaven couldn’t rescind the agreement to his ally. When the princess left for foreign lands, the Emperor was heartbroken. When another neighbouring kingdom petitioned for a Tang princess, the Emperor chose one of his concubines and bestowed the title of princess upon her. The newly appointed princess went to fulfil the alliance rather than the Emperor’s true blood.’

‘So now our Emperor wants to send an imposter instead?’ she asked.

‘It’s not uncommon. The alliance brides may be nieces or distant members of the imperial family. Occasionally even daughters of high-ranking court officials might be chosen. It was a great honour to our family when my sister, Pearl, was elevated to the rank of princess.’

Yan Ling stared at him, trying to sort out the strangeness of such whimsical decrees. ‘Wouldn’t that make you a prince?’

‘Not quite—however, the decree does bestow imperial favour and duties upon our family.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘Duties that cannot be refused.’

She supposed the divine Emperor could do whatever he wished. ‘But what if the barbarians find out they don’t have a real princess?’

‘It doesn’t matter. The political arrangement itself is the important part. The marriage seals the agreement and the title is just a formality showing the Emperor’s commitment.’

She didn’t like the thought of being a peace offering, travelling to this faraway place along with bolts of silk and a fleet of horses. Hadn’t Fei Long practically looked her over as if she were a horse? Checking her teeth, checking her feet to see that they were small enough to belong to a high-born lady.

‘Tang princesses are highly valued in the barbarian lands,’ he insisted. ‘You’ll have every need taken care of.’

A ripple of pleasure ran through her, lazy and warm with promise. She would never need to worry about being cold or hungry again. Her back wouldn’t ache from serving customers from the first light of day to deep in the night.

‘I couldn’t even imagine this if it were a dream. You’re just telling stories,’ she accused.

‘It’s true.’

‘Then why did your precious sister run away? If I were Miss Pearl, I would never give up such an opportunity.’

He tensed. Only the twitch of a muscle along his jaw revealed any emotion. ‘She was young with…romantic notions. Not thinking of reason or duty.’ He met her eyes, his gaze scrutinising. ‘You seem much more practical.’

‘I am very practical,’ she agreed. The teahouse had always been about survival and keeping a roof over her head.

They stopped before the town’s civil office. Without a word, the nobleman handed her the reins and strode through the front gate, completely assured in her compliance. The horse paced a few restless steps while she clutched at the reins with a life-and-death grip.

‘Stop,’ she commanded in a fierce whisper. ‘Hear me? Stay still,
you
.’

She prayed the horse wouldn’t run off. If it decided to, she’d be dragged along with it. She didn’t know how to tame a horse. In truth, she didn’t know how to do much more than serve customers in a teahouse. So she stood with the reins wrapped twice around her hand and considered her situation.

To be a princess, even a false one, would be like being reborn into the next life. Perhaps the stars of her birth weren’t as dim as she’d always thought. She wanted very much to believe Fei Long, but there were plenty of stories about tricksters travelling the countryside, collecting young women in order to sell them off to brothels. Fei Long could very well be one of those scoundrels, though he struck her as honest. Maybe too much so. If anything, he seemed lost in this fancy scheme of his.

At times, he intimidated her with his proper manners and knowledge. At other times, she considered smacking him across that thick skull of his—which had been the start of all her troubles.

Fei Long emerged from the gates and came towards her, holding a pouch in his hand.

She gave up the reins with relief. ‘What is that?’