Chapter 11

The emperor asked about my studies, examined the gold and jade I had chosen, patted my shoulder, and praised Mother for raising me so well. He was just like a real father…

If I had been a real princess.

As it was, I felt as though I were sitting on pins and needles.

Over the days that followed, he visited more and more often. Rumors raged through the palace, corrosive enough to destroy a person, until I could scarcely raise my head. Yet he always behaved like a kindly elder and never overstepped. He merely lavished particular affection on Mother, making my fears seem uncharitable.

But whenever I saw the growing marks on her neck and beneath her collar, how hard it was for her to stand, how pain sometimes crossed her face as she walked, I wondered whether I was being so uncharitable after all.

Whatever else was true, Mother and I enjoyed extraordinary favor. Even the emperor’s real daughters had never been so indulged.

Our glory blazed at its height. When an old injury troubled the emperor, he gave Mother special permission to annotate memorials in vermilion on his behalf. Her power no longer ended at the inner palace.

Chi Yan came to see me once more, but only to ask for his bracelet back.

“I accidentally dropped it in Kunming Pool,” I told him calmly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to fish it out yourself.”

After that, I rarely ventured out and never saw him again.

Three years passed. When the emperor overruled every objection and made Mother empress, it was hardly surprising.

Yet on the night of her investiture, she did not stay with him. Instead, she held me in her arms, stroked my head, and said, “Rourou, my Rourou. I have wronged you.”

I looked up in bewilderment. “When have you ever wronged me?”

Mother frowned, pain filling her face. “I… need an imperial heir. Otherwise my position is insecure. But I cannot have a child. Rourou, only you can help me. You are the only one I can trust.”

Though I was held in her warm arms, I felt as if I had plunged into an ice cellar, as if lightning had struck me.

“I know you’ve never liked Prince Chun, and he’s often made things difficult for you. But I cannot think of another way…”

“I haven’t… Wait. Prince Chun?”

Stunned, I looked up at her.

Mother nodded. “Yes, Prince Chun. What’s wrong? If you truly don’t want to…”

“I do!” I abruptly sat up, exhaled deeply, and smiled like someone spared from disaster. “No problem. Prince Chun is only rather unpleasant. Foul-mouthed, frivolous… Nothing terribly wrong with him.”

Mother sighed. “I know you like Chi Yan. Unfortunately…”

“How many years ago was that? I’ve long since forgotten him. What does a ten-year-old girl’s fancy matter? You’re the only one who still takes it seriously.”

“Did something happen between you and Prince Chun without my knowing?” Her eyes slowly narrowed. “You’re only a year apart. A boy and girl growing up together… Have I stumbled upon the right match?”

“Of course not!” But after that single protest, I lowered my head and crumpled the edge of my robe. “Not really. It’s just… Oh, nothing…”

Mother laughed freely. “As long as you’re willing. I was so afraid of hurting you.”

“But…” I slowly frowned. “Is it really Prince Chun? Why him?”

The corners of Mother’s mouth lifted. “He is His Majesty’s only full brother. No one is closer to the emperor by blood. If His Majesty remains without a son and you bear Prince Chun a child, your son, as the closest male relative in the imperial clan, will be the heir. If His Majesty dies before you and Prince Chun have a child, then Prince Chun himself… will be the heir.”

Two birds with one arrow.

Brilliant.

“Then… will His Majesty agree?”

Mother smiled inscrutably. “I have ways to make him agree.”