Chapter 3

I rubbed my nose and quietly retrieved the arrow at my feet, my mind racing for an excuse to escape.

“Wan, failure is the road to success. Every prince and princess of Liao can ride and shoot. At future banquets, people will compete at archery and horsemanship for entertainment. You must learn eventually.”

The Crown Princess had trapped me with reason. I did not want another attempt, but every word was true. I nocked a fresh arrow while she corrected my stance and showed me where to apply my strength.

I had once envied her sharp perception and impeccable judgment. I had dreamed of becoming someone like her.

Not anymore.

I did not want to be perceptive enough to notice her awareness of my weak arms, or the servants hiding smiles behind lowered heads. The morning was not hot, yet I burned. Sunlight scorched my face and neck, and sweat ran painfully into my eyes. Blinking hard, I aimed at the center and released.

At least the arrow did not fall beside my foot.

It missed the target altogether.

I wiped my brow and, before the Crown Princess could speak, hugged her arm and pleaded as I always did. “Dear Sister-in-law, it truly isn’t my fault. This bow is too heavy, and the sun is so fierce I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“You always have an excuse,” she said helplessly.

Pretending not to hear, I changed the subject. “I left too early to see the palace’s new dance last time. Why don’t we watch it today? Mother should be awake by now. We can go together.”

I tried to pull her away, but she caught me and frowned.

My heart trembled. I released her arm, wondering what I had said wrong this time.

“Wan, you are young and don’t understand court politics. But remember this at all times: inside the palace, you cannot think only of Mother’s preferences.”

I met her eyes but could not explain myself, perhaps because I did not even understand my mistake. I could only answer obediently. “I understand. Thank you, Sister-in-law. I will be more cautious from now on.”

She was as gentle as the Crown Prince. Seeing tears gather in my eyes, she sighed, ordered a servant to fetch my little bow, and lowered her voice.

“A few days ago, His Majesty brought a peasant girl back from outside the palace. No one knows how she charmed him into indulging her every wish. Mother quarreled with His Majesty over it.”

I nodded, only half understanding.

“The dance you suggested is inspired by farm labor. Mother is still furious. Wouldn’t asking her to watch it be courting trouble?”

I thanked her repeatedly.

“If you truly want to thank me, take this bow home and practice. Don’t embarrass your teacher.”

I thumped my chest and promised to astonish her the next time I came. She saw through me and smiled slyly.

“You’re right. How could my teaching compare with Fourth Brother’s?”

The wreath he had given me that morning came back to mind. After hesitating, I asked, “Sister-in-law, where is the wreath I brought you?”

“In my room.”

“Oh. Good.”

She had not heard me clearly and asked what I had said.

“I said that you are so beautiful, you would look like an immortal descended from heaven if you wore it.”

I returned to the residence at dusk. A servant told me that the Fourth Prince had come home early and ordered the kitchen to prepare a table of good dishes for my return.

I was exhausted and did not want to see him.

To my surprise, he came out to welcome me himself and even reached for the bow in my hand. I was too tired to decipher his tangled emotions. I gave it to him, claimed I had already eaten in the palace, and called Caiyun to help me back to my room.

What had the Crown Princess meant? Was the bow an answer or a refusal? Naturally, I could not understand. That silent language belonged only to her and the Fourth Prince.

I pitied myself. In Shu, I had married into Liao for Changning and Mr. Zhou. Here, I had become a bridge between the Fourth Prince and Crown Princess.

After that, I rarely entered the palace. When repeated invitations from the Empress and Crown Princess met excuse after excuse, they grew displeased, forcing me to use the Fourth Prince as my shield.

I had read so many romances that declarations of yearning rolled effortlessly from my tongue. I nearly convinced myself that my husband truly loved me and could not bear to let me out of his sight.

With no palace visits and no husband at home, my days were comfortable and tedious.

“Why not raise a cat or dog?” Caiyun suggested. “Or go fishing?”

Fishing?

I frowned at her, wondering what quality in me suggested hidden angling talent.

“I once served in the Third Prince’s palace. He loved fishing. He said it cultivated patience and passed the time.”

The Third Prince’s mother had been an uncouth palace maid whom Father bedded once while drunk. The prince was ordinary in both talent and appearance. Among my brothers, his position resembled mine among my sisters: ignored and forgotten.

With nothing better to do, I ordered the steward to prepare the equipment and chose a bright afternoon for my expedition.

The procession was absurd. I was going fishing, not parading through the streets. I summoned the steward and told him to dismiss the two lines of servants. He stubbornly agreed to reduce the attendants but insisted that guards accompany me.

I wanted to shout that I could swim so well a duck would drown before I did.

But a princess consort had to remain dignified at all times, lest gossip begin about the barbarous behavior of Shu’s princess.

“Very well. Choose a few capable guards.”

No one else was at the lake, probably because the steward had cleared it in advance. I was there for amusement; whether my technique was correct did not matter.

Caiyun sat beside me and kept up a stream of chatter. Eventually, she whispered, “Princess, you have been in Liao for half a year. Why is there still no news from your belly?”

I glanced instinctively at the guards a hundred paces away, my ears burning. “Don’t talk nonsense outside.”

Caiyun was not afraid of me. She knew I was softhearted. When we played in private, it was difficult to tell which of us was mistress and which maid.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but in Liao, the Fourth Prince is your only support. Only if you bear a child soon will the rest of your life be secure.”

Her sincere concern left me with no answer. I understood all of it, but a child was not something I could produce by wishing. The closest the Fourth Prince and I had ever come was sharing a bed while, in his sleep, he held me tightly enough to nearly strangle me.

My silence worried her. “His Highness is young and vigorous. Keep him in your room a few more nights, and surely a child will follow.”

My face blazed. With a cry, I covered her mouth. She could barely form a sentence in the Fourth Prince’s presence. How did she become so daring behind his back?

“It is not a problem that can be solved merely by having him spend more nights in my room.”

That was the most tactful answer I could find. I certainly could not reveal that he had never touched me.

Caiyun stared, puzzled.

“Let fate decide,” I said soothingly. “Let fate decide.”

“I understand!” she cried, covering her mouth.

The guards turned at the sound and asked if I required anything.

“No.”

I glared at Caiyun.

This time she leaned close and whispered, “Does the Fourth Prince suffer from some hidden infirmity?”

I truly admired her imagination. Still, that was one suspicion I could confidently dismiss. The Fourth Prince and I had never consummated our marriage, but whenever he stayed in my room, what pressed against me in the morning was shocking enough.

At first, I had lain frozen and scarlet. Later, seeing him dress with perfect calm as if nothing were amiss, I gradually grew numb to it.

“He has no such infirmity. We will not discuss this again.”

My luck that afternoon was excellent, and I caught three fish.

Walking home through the sunset, Caiyun and I enthusiastically debated how they should be prepared. She favored steaming. I wanted raw fish slices—each cut equally thin, translucent, crisp, and delicious with dipping sauce.

Neither convinced the other. We happily decided to take one fish apiece and leave the third to the kitchen.

“The slices must be thin as flying clouds,” Caiyun teased. She was an excellent cook and loved mocking me. “Don’t cut them as thick as boot soles.”

I pretended to strike her. “And don’t steam yours until it’s bland and reeks of fish!”

She dodged, and I chased her. Our laughter carried into the residence. Caiyun ran faster. Holding up my skirt, I stumbled through the gate, gasping, “Run that fast again, and I’ll break your legs.”

The residence was utterly silent.

Only then did I look up.

The Fourth Prince stood in the courtyard. Caiyun was already on her knees, trembling. I straightened at once and even spared a moment to wonder how strongly I smelled of fish.

The guards entered behind us carrying my catch. At the sight of him, they formed an orderly line and lowered their heads.

I secretly smoothed my wrinkled skirt and approached with a smile. “What brings Your Highness home?”

I wanted to bite off my tongue. Was that how a wife greeted a husband who had been away for so long?

Fortunately, outside matters concerning the Crown Princess, his expression rarely changed.

“You went fishing?”

“Yes, and I was lucky. How would you like yours prepared? I’ll tell the kitchen.”

He beckoned the guard forward, inspected the fish, and said, “Tell the kitchen to prepare dry wood and iron skewers.”

The guards carried away the fruit of my entire afternoon. I stared, wondering how to tell him I had intended to give him only one.

He descended the steps and stopped before me. The evening breeze was gentle.

“I will roast them for you.”

I did not want roasted fish.

I wanted raw slices.

Could I refuse?

No.

Feigning the bashful joy of a deeply favored wife, I smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Day hovered on the edge of night. I sat on the steps and watched him clean the fish with practiced hands. It was not that I refused to help. To show how much I valued our dinner, I had changed into a new dress, asked Caiyun for the latest hairstyle, and even matched my hairpin to my earrings.

Perhaps he too realized that my cloud-white skirts were ill suited to a close view of fish guts, because he sent me away to sit quietly.

I gazed at his back. When he concentrated, the world around him disappeared. I could stare as openly as I pleased without being noticed.

Perhaps the moment was right. My heart softened to the sounds of his knife, and I found myself asking, “Your Highness, you even know how to clean fish?”

He tossed one into the basin, turning the clear water red, then crouched to arrange the wood.

“On campaign, one must know a little of everything.”

“But you’re a prince.”

He lit the fire. Its leaping light played over his handsome profile and softened the inhuman severity of his features.

“There are no princes in an army. They are all my brothers.”

I told him other insignificant things: how one fish had fought and splashed me, how my third brother loved fishing, how we had passed a flatbread stall that smelled wonderful on the way home.

He spoke less than I did. Focused on the fire, he merely acknowledged each story with a quiet sound to show he was listening.

But none of that was what I wanted to say.

I wanted him to look twice at my new dress, because I had smelled the Crown Princess’s customary incense on him.

He had seen her today.

My gown, my makeup, even the perfume sachet at my waist had all been chosen to resemble hers. When Caiyun finished dressing me, she remarked that I looked more dignified and elegant.

“Do I look prettier this way or as I did before?” I asked.

“This way, you look more like a princess consort. Before, you looked like a young princess. Both are beautiful.”

When I stopped speaking, there was nothing between the Fourth Prince and me. He continued roasting fish, and I continued staring into space.

By now, I was almost certain the Crown Princess still loved him too. Even divided by morality, rank, and palace walls, the doomed lovers could not relinquish each other.

If their story were written and performed in winehouses, I would attend every day and weep every night.

So long as I did not have to live inside it.

The Fourth Prince turned. “Would you prefer lighter seasoning?”

I blinked at him.

“Would you prefer lighter seasoning?” he repeated.

“Yes. Thank you, Your Highness.”

He used fewer spices on my fish, then said as casually as if discussing the weather, “You are certainly courteous with me.”

My face warmed. He must have heard me race home and threaten to break Caiyun’s legs.

“I don’t usually behave that way. I was too happy today and forgot myself. Please forgive me. It will not happen again.”

That was evidently not the answer he expected. He forgot the fish and looked at me for a long moment.

“There aren’t so many rules in this residence.”

Secret delight fluttered inside me. Then I saw the fish.

“Your Highness—the fish!”

He ate the burned one himself. I sat beside him, unsure how to approach a whole roasted fish, and copied him from the corner of my eye.

“The autumn hunt is soon. How is your archery?”

Of all the subjects he might have chosen. Aside from the few days he taught me, I had not practiced at all.

“I can’t learn,” I murmured, holding a fish twice as wide as my face.

He did not scold me. “Then stop learning.”

I had only one thought.

Just how happy had seeing the Crown Princess made him today?