скачать книгу бесплатно
The family’s servants and hired hands always disappeared somewhere once they settled down for the night. He didn’t know where. He didn’t care where.
‘Yan Ling.’
‘My lord?’
He preferred not to think of her as a female as they travelled together, but it was hard not to once they were alone like this. He considered calling for the innkeeper and asking for some other place for her, but that was impossible. Where would they put a lone young woman? He had proposed this scheme and taken her along with him, which meant her well being and safety was now his responsibility. And nothing was more important to Fei Long than his responsibilities.
The low platform of the bed lay against one wall. He gathered the bamboo mat that had been laid over the top of it.
He deposited the rolled mat in Yan Ling’s arms. ‘Take any spot you wish. Sleep well.’
She looked left and right. The situation was clearly as uncomfortable for her as it was for him. Quickly, quietly, she moved to the furthest corner from the bed. He averted his eyes and prepared himself for sleep, striving to ignore whatever was happening in the corner.
First he removed his sword and then started to undo his outer robe. He paused with his hand over his belt and glanced over his shoulder.
Yan Ling had arranged the mat in the corner. She was lying upon it with her back to him. Her slippers were arranged neatly beside the mat and she’d untied her hair. He stared at the black curtain that fell down her back. An unbidden thought came to him and he wished it hadn’t.
‘Miss Yan Ling.’
She lay very still. Too still to be asleep. ‘Yes?’
Her voice sounded muffled and she didn’t face him, an act for which he was grateful. His throat grew dry with embarrassment, but he had to know.
‘Your virtue—’ The miserable words lodged in his throat. He coughed. ‘Is it … intact?’
She gasped and spun into motion, twisting around to push herself up to sitting position. ‘What are you suggesting? I told you I’m a good girl.’
‘Nothing,’ he said in a rush. ‘I’m not suggesting anything.’
He took a step forwards, which launched her backwards. Her back collided against the wall.
‘You stay right there!’ She shook a finger at him.
‘I didn’t bring you with me to claim you for myself, I’ve been honest with my reasons from the first. You need to be pure to be married to Khitan.’ Heavens above, his face was on fire.
‘Well, I know what happens when men and women are together alone.’
‘I don’t think of you in that way,’ he insisted.
Irresistibly Fei Long was plagued by a flicker of an image of the two of them, his arms around her bamboo-thin form, which he immediately tried to banish. Damn it all. It was only because she was insinuating it.
‘Intentions can change quickly.’ Yan Ling’s gaze narrowed on him as she reached for her slippers. ‘Male, female, there’s no logic to it in the heat of things. I’m sleeping outside.’
He moved to block the door before she could rise. Now he was starting to get irritated. ‘My intentions won’t change. Do you want me to swear it?’
She stared at him wide-eyed, one hand clasped to the neck of her tunic. Her skin was pale against the grey fabric and her hair fell over her eyes. ‘How can you be assured you won’t act differently in a … in a storm of passion?’ she forced out.
He almost laughed at her then, and at himself as well. There was an easy solution to this that they had both forgotten.
‘There will be no “storm of passion”. I know who I am,’ he said calmly. ‘And I know who you are.’
She regarded him warily. ‘So?’
‘We’re from very different classes in society.’
‘Yin and yang know no class,’ she retorted.
‘But I do and I won’t forget,’ he promised. ‘Ever. I swear I won’t touch you. It’s in neither of our best interests.’
She pulled away from the wall, but remained crouched and defensive. ‘Because I’m of a lower standing than you, you’d never touch me?’
‘Yes.’
Her shoulders remained tense. She seemed to be struggling with his logic, but finally she came to some resolution. ‘I suppose, my lord, that I should find that a comfort,’ she muttered.
He was left trying to decipher the sudden bite in her tone as she returned the slippers to the edge of the mat. She lowered herself to the ground, keeping her eyes directed away from him.
‘Yes, my virtue is intact,’ she said. ‘And I trust it will remain so.’
She curled up again and turned to the wall. Carefully, he returned to other side of the room and sat down on the bed. There were ten or so more nights of this madness between here and Changan. Ten more nights.
He would need to be sure to have a place secured for her wherever they stayed to avoid this mishap in the future. There was a reason for rules and codes of conduct in society. Everyone knew his place in the scheme of family, home and country. As long as every man served his purpose, no one was led astray. They hadn’t even reached Changan or started playing the game yet, but the shift in their statuses was already causing disorder and strife.
Fei Long watched the small figure in the corner. It wasn’t long before the tension eased away from Yan Ling and her breathing grew soft and deep. The journey had been a long one that day and she wasn’t accustomed to riding. He remembered the first time he’d spent most of the day in the saddle in the early part of his military training. Every muscle had ached and he’d fallen asleep before hitting the pallet.
He extinguished the lantern and pulled the quilt over himself as he lay back on the wooden platform. Yan Ling had pushed on that day with little complaint and tried her best to learn. Those qualities showed both strength and determination. This common tea girl was more than she appeared.
Think only of success, Sun-Tzu had taught. Fei Long would think only of success and he had ten days to lay out a plan.
For tonight, he decided not to remove his outer robe while he slept.
Chapter Three
Yan Ling gradually stirred to the chill of the air. The sharpness of it made her curl up into a tight ball. Instinctively, she tucked her chin to her chest and folded her feet close to her body to conserve warmth. Maybe she could coax a few more minutes of sleep out of the morning before the clanging in the kitchen woke her up.
Suddenly a soft weight fell over her, cutting off the chill. A hand settled gently over her shoulder and she jolted awake. Her arm shot out, her knuckles colliding against something solid.
‘The death of me—!’
The startled cry chased the last of the sleep from her. This was not her pallet. She was no longer in the teahouse. She sat up and found herself clutching a woven blanket. Fei Long was crouched at the edge of the mat, one hand pressed over his left eye.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.
‘You looked cold,’ he growled.
She stared at the blanket that had mysteriously appeared around her. Fei Long lowered his hand from his face, though he still winced from the blow. In the morning light she could make out every line of displeasure over his well-defined features.
‘Forgive me,’ she squeaked out.
‘If I had known you could hit like that, I wouldn’t have worried about your virtue.’
Was he … was he teasing her? Nothing else about his manner said so. His dark hair fell loose about his shoulders, giving him an untamed look that shocked her to her toes. The haze of the morning and his disarray made the moment uncomfortably intimate, though he was blinking at her with more ire than usual. She clutched the blanket tighter around herself.
Fei Long pulled himself to his feet and removed himself to the other side of the chamber. A knock on the door provided a momentary distraction. She went to open the door and the attendant presented her with a wash basin. Dutifully, she carried it to the table beside the bed and set it down.
The nobleman had his back to her. He ran his hands over his hair and then tied it into a topknot with a strip of cloth. In a coordinated dance, she returned to her corner to fold the blanket and roll up the mat while he moved to use the wash basin. She was accustomed to such rituals growing up in the cramped quarters of the teahouse kitchen. This was how people living in the same small space without doors or screens allowed each other some privacy.
In a breach of such politeness, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Fei Long rolled his sleeves back in two crisp tugs at each arm. Dipping his hands into the basin, he splashed water over his face. It slid down over his chiselled jaw and throat and she didn’t realise she was staring until he caught her. A sharp line formed over his eyes.
‘My lord,’ she intoned by way of apology. Her face burned as she rushed over to hand him a wash cloth.
He took the cloth from her without a word while blood rushed to her face. In many ways, looking at him so boldly was a worse transgression than dousing him with tea in anger. She held her breath and waited to be reprimanded.
‘The water is still warm,’ came his brusque reply. He pressed the cloth to his face and took his sword from the bedside before leaving the room.
She had to remember that Chang Fei Long was well-born and well-mannered. Everything had to be done with care. More so when they reached the capital and she began to train to be an alliance bride.
Blessedly alone, Yan Ling used the water to quickly wash. One of the few belongings she’d taken from the teahouse was a wooden comb. She untangled her hair and concentrated on braiding it back out of her face. She had to at least look presentable now that she was attending a nobleman. Fei Long returned just as she tied the end.
‘We have some things to do before leaving the city,’ he said.
Unlike the day before, he had plenty to say while they took their morning tea and meal. He needed supplies, she needed clothes. She hadn’t considered how ragged she must look beside him. Her grey tunic was over a year old and had been patched at the elbows.
By the time they rode out, she was outfitted in a leaf-green robe made of light cotton. She ran her hands wondrously over the sleeves. The weave of it was finer than anything she’d ever worn. What would the townsfolk think of him buying her such fancy clothing as if she were a—she blushed to even think of it—a pampered concubine?
Fei Long was intent on using every moment of the day now for education. He recited a classic titled The Three Obediences and Four Virtues to her while they rode, asking her at intervals to repeat back what she’d just learned.
‘You have a good memory,’ he said at one point.
It might have been the very first compliment he’d ever paid her. Perhaps it would make up for her rough, provincial manners.
Ten days passed quicker than Fei Long had anticipated. Changan, the imperial capital, stood a day away. They only had a few months before Pearl was supposed to take her place as princess. Fortunately, Yan Ling was a quick learner. He had drilled her on etiquette and her dialect had shifted slightly to mimic the patterns of speech of the capital.
‘We’ll be in the city by late in the afternoon,’ he told her.
Their morning tea had become the staging point for the day’s goals. Yan Ling listened intently as she did every day.
‘The mourning period over my father’s death provides us some privacy,’ he continued.
‘When did you lose your father?’
‘Over a month now.’
‘Such a loss.’ She quieted and bowed her head reverently before speaking again. ‘Your family must be saddened by the loss.’
‘That’s a private matter.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ She bit her bottom lip.
‘Don’t do that.’
‘Do what?’ In her nervousness, she bit down even harder.
For now, he decided to let it go. Yan Ling needed to learn that she was no longer in the common room of a teahouse with its hum of chatter and gossip.
‘His death was unexpected,’ he said.
Fortunately, she took his cold tone to mean there would be no more questions. Of course there was sadness. His father, the man who had given him life and raised him, was gone. But Fei Long didn’t have time to grieve. As soon as he’d returned, everyone had surrounded him, asking him, ‘What now?’ Pearl was nowhere to be found. He’d let the household mourn in his stead. There were too many new responsibilities as eldest son and the new head of the household.
‘You’ll be carried in a palanquin into the city.’
‘What’s a palanquin?’
‘A litter. You’ll sit inside while we enter. It wouldn’t do for you to be seen. Too many questions.’
Her lips moved in a silent conversation with herself as she recited his instructions. He found the habit endearing and took a sip while he watched her.
‘Once you’re installed in our family residence, there will be a whole new set of lessons,’ he continued. ‘You’ll need to learn how to read and write. We’ll also need to practise court etiquette—entirely different than private etiquette.’
Her lips pouted and she blew out an exasperated breath. This part he didn’t find quite as endearing.
‘You’ll need to practise controlling your expressions,’ he reminded her. ‘And not make such faces all the time.’
‘I wasn’t making a face, my lord.’
‘You were.’
‘What does it matter when it’s just the two of us?’ she demanded.
They hadn’t had many arguments during their journey, but this was a recurring one.
‘Practise these habits all the time and they’ll come naturally,’ he said, forcing patience. ‘Remember, you were not accustomed to being heard or seen as a servant. Others will be watching you now. At times you’ll be the centre of attention, such as when you’re presented to the Khagan.’
‘Surely I have better manners than a foreign barbarian,’ she scoffed.
His lips twitched. ‘That is a matter for debate.’
She opened her mouth to argue, but the carriers had arrived with the palanquin.
‘Come, it’s time.’
He led her out to the street, noting that her back was held straighter, her head an inch higher. The carriers afforded her a slight bow as she approached. His chest swelled with pride. This was going to work.
Of course, it was hard to dismiss his dishonesty. He was deliberately deceiving the imperial court. Two courts, if he counted the kingdom of Khitan. But all parties were getting what they wanted. Khitan received an alliance and a princess and the Tang Empire didn’t have to worry about barbarian attacks from the north at least for a few years. Yan Ling would be taken care of. His family name and honour would be preserved for ancestors and heirs alike. So many good deeds had to balance out one black one.
He stepped forwards to pull aside the curtain on the sedan himself. Yan Ling paused as she was about to duck inside.
‘Wait—should I call you “Elder Brother”? Will you call me Pearl?’
