Chapter 3

When Prince An pushed open his door, I was sitting outside eating rice with braised pork.

The meat was tender and fragrant, with crisp little cabbages and a ladleful of gravy over the rice. The smell was wonderful.

Summer was approaching, and the weather was hot and dry. The gardener had even made me some flower tea to cut through the richness.

A foul smell hit me.

I turned. Prince An had crawled out looking like a beggar.

Three days and three nights. At last he’d reached his limit.

He fixed me with a stare like an evil spirit fresh from hell.

“Water. Food,” he commanded, leaning against the doorway, barely breathing.

I held my bowl and sneered. “What was that? Can’t hear you.”

Begging for food and still so entitled. Why hadn’t he simply starved to death?

He shut his eyes and shouted in furious humiliation, “I said, give me food! Water!”

Perhaps it was the shame. His eyes were tightly closed, his lashes trembling violently.

Even filthy as he was, you could still see that he had a handsome face.

I gave him food and water.

He took them, rinsed his mouth vigorously with the tea, then wet his sleeve and wiped his face.

Only then did he pick up his meal and begin to eat, little by little.

He spent a full quarter of an hour over one bowl, chewing slowly. There was the breeding of a royal aristocrat for you.

I tossed him a pair of crutches. “Coming out means you want to live. Your legs will never be exactly as they were. Practice walking with these. With the medicine you’ve been taking, you should recover sixty or seventy percent of their strength.”

He lowered his head and ran his hands over the crutches. Suddenly he looked up. “Is this the green-calyx plum tree from the plum garden?”

“Huh? I suppose so.” I looked blankly at him. “Why?”

The tree had died. The wood looked good, so I’d cut it down.

“You stupid thief!” he raged. “A whole garden full of apple and chestnut trees, and you had to cut down my favorite plum! Are you doing this to spite me?”

Damn him! Happy enough to eat my food, then cursing me the moment he put down the bowl.

He almost made me laugh. “Oh, yes, I know some people are born servants and some are born masters. But damn it, I’ve never heard of trees having ranks! What, are apple and chestnut trees born lowly?”

For a moment, he had no answer.

“Who on earth are you,” he demanded in disbelief, “to dare treat me like this?”

Now that was a profound question. It left me utterly confused.

Who was I? Where had I come from? Where was I going?

The more I thought about it, the more frightening it became!

A prince indeed. One question and he’d sent me into a crisis.

After a little thought, I said earnestly, “If you like, I can be your father from today on. A father has every right to discipline his son.”

Prince An shuddered all over and spat a mouthful of blood.

I caught his wrist and felt his pulse. Excellent. Better out than letting all that pent-up heat choke him to death.

“Congratulations, Your Highness! Now you’ve spat that out, your health will only improve.” Sitting beside him, I coaxed him patiently. “A generous man like you surely won’t hold a grudge. I only beat you because I feared you’d lost the will to live. Today I offered to be your father to make you spit out that stagnant blood.”

His expression softened a little, so I went on. “Only by coming outside can you see what a lovely day it is! Look at the chickens and ducks passing by! Look at that plump little pig! Life everywhere! We’re all waiting for you to be rich and powerful again so we can live well alongside you.”

After a slap, a double helping of sweetness.

If I actually provoked this delicate darling to death, it would ruin my plans.

He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you coaxing me like a three-year-old?”

“Of course not.” I counted on my fingers and said confidently, “Ten, at the very least. A three-year-old couldn’t understand such pearls of wisdom.”

I found a broom and rag and threw them to him. “You’ve eaten and drunk your fill. Now clean up your pigsty, chop wood, heat water, and wash yourself properly. You’ve nothing left but that face, after all. There are only a dozen or so of us here, and everyone has work to do. Nobody’s waiting on you.”

He could bear no more. Through gritted teeth, he said, “If I ever get out of here, the first thing I’ll do is have you torn apart by five horses, you cur!”

“First, you have to get out.” I stepped on his broken leg. As pain drained the color from his face, I pinched his chin and smiled. “Come to think of it, I keep this whole household fed. I buy your medicine, treat your legs, and talk sense into you. I’ve done everything a princess consort ought to do. Why don’t we sleep together tonight and make it official?”