The Princess's Gambit - Chapter 6

Wensi Palace, once the home of the late emperor’s consorts, was steeped in the air of death. Su Yin lived there.

She had always been elegant, gentle, and reserved. At the door, I found myself afraid to go in.

Su Yin, the current commander of the imperial guard Xing Chaoyun, and I had grown up together. The two of them had been childhood sweethearts behind my back. They were both a few years older than I, and close in age to each other. I had watched them exchange letters written on red paper, pledge themselves beneath the moon, and fall deeply in love.

Fate had been cruel. Su Yin had been one step away from marrying Xing Chaoyun. Now red roof tiles and high palace walls lay between them. One was a consort of the dead emperor, the other commander of the guard; though near, they might as well be at opposite ends of the earth.

I remembered the Lantern Festival years ago, on Guanlan Bridge. Su Yin held the rabbit lantern I had given her, gazing at Xing Chaoyun a little way off while the sunset colored her cheeks.

“Little Princess, do you think… he’ll like it?”

I knew nothing of love then. I thought she meant the lantern.

“What does Xing Chaoyun know? The Weaving Workshop made this. The best embroiderer in the Palace Women’s Bureau stitched the design by hand. The gold thread looks almost alive! And look at the rabbit’s eyes—there’s a story behind those too…”

I pushed open the palace door. The woman I remembered sat inside, dignified and composed. With her lovely face and distant-mountain brows, she was like a framed portrait of a bodhisattva drained of life.

This was not my Sister Su Yin.

“Eldest Princess. You’ve come?”

At those words, I kicked over one furnishing after another and smashed whatever I could reach. The palace attendants who had followed me fell to their knees in terror. “Please calm your anger, Eldest Princess!”

“Get out!”

Su Yin watched calmly as I wrecked Wensi Palace. “Take your anger elsewhere. What authority are you trying to show off here?”

There was a thread of irritation in her voice, something of the old Su Yin. At last I smiled. “We’ll replace what I broke.”

“A gilded cage is still a cage,” I said. “You never loved the late emperor. Why observe this damned mourning for him?”

She fell silent. I took a breath. “Come home with me.”

Her lips curved helplessly. “You’re throwing a child’s tantrum again.”

I frowned. “I’ve broken every rule and convention already. What would another scandal matter? If I want you to remarry, then you will. I’ll kill any courtier who objects.”

When she knitted her brows, I added, “Xing Chaoyun won’t mind either.”

She bit her bloodless lip and forced out, “Leave. Don’t mention him to me again.”

I refused. One cup of tea’s time later, she threw me out anyway.

Wensi Palace was a perfect, spotless white. White enough to make me sick. One day I would burn it all to ash.

Yet I had to admit that I had built Su Yin’s cage with my own hands.

I stumbled out, breathed deeply, and put my usual expression back on. My brother Jiang Zhaoyu approached with a crowd of attendants.

“Imperial Sister, they said you came to the palace. Why didn’t you visit me?” Oblivious to the mud on his knees, he eagerly produced a jade jar from inside his robes. “Have you ever seen a cricket in winter? They kept it warm with silver charcoal. If I let it loose in the imperial garden, I can watch the cats hunt it. It’s such fun!”

Anger surged through me.

Two years before, I had traveled through all twenty-three prefectures of Yun, contacting the late emperor’s old loyalists. To win their trust, I threatened, bribed, and made promises—whatever worked. I had my unreliable father to thank: he had let those still loyal to the throne imagine there was hope. At last the entire Changdong garrison was under my control.

At court, Grand Tutor Zhou and I each held half a military tally. He commanded Xiji; I commanded Changdong. Yet most of the civil officials spoke for Xie Yunbai. I had not kept my original promise to give him a puppet emperor and share the realm. His patience had worn thin, and he had begun conspiring with the Grand Tutor.

I pressed down my fury. “The regent is going south to Yanzhou, and you sent the commander of the imperial guard with him? Who will protect the palace?”

My brother timidly tugged my sleeve and pouted. “Don’t worry, Imperial Sister. He asked for one man, not the tally in your hand. Besides, he’d go whether I agreed or not. What difference does my answer make?”

All I could see in his eyes was innocence and stupidity. Stupid enough to be funny.

“Jiang Zhaoyu, what goes through your head all day?”

I struck the jade jar from his hands. Shards flew, and the cricket escaped. He burst into tears and rolled about in front of the attendants. “I don’t like Imperial Sister when she’s like this!”

I watched him until he tired himself out and peeped through his fingers to read my face.

“Big Sister used to be gentle…”

I seized his collar. “Jiang Zhaoyu, the clothes on your back and the food in your mouth came at a price. Yes, you could have been a pampered prince who spent his days playing with birds and fighting cocks. Our father destroyed that life. If you object, go argue with him in the underworld. There are places where corpses cover the roads and people fight bloody battles for a bowl of rice bran. If you want power, fight for it. Take it from the regent, from the Grand Tutor, or even from me. If you win, I’ll admit you have ability.”

I pointed at his nose. “Stop putting on this pitiful little show. At least Yun still has a mess left for you to inherit. Go cry to Grand Tutor Zhou and see whether he’ll hand you his troops.”

He stopped crying, though tears still brimmed in his eyes. “The Grand Tutor is frightening…”

I gently straightened his crumpled collar. “Go read your books.”

He held the throne only because those sanctimonious hypocrites still cared a little about imperial blood. Every visit to him gave me a headache.

His mother had been the late emperor’s Consort Lian. He should have died in the rebellion. We had the same father, a tyrant. When the rebels stormed the palace, the servants planned to throw the infant Zhaoyu into a well to prove their loyalty to the new forces. I grabbed a blade, took him from them, and escaped through the hole I had once used to sneak out to see Su Yin.

All these years he had depended on me. I wanted him to grow wiser, yet I knew his nature. Now he was sulking at me.

The court went into recess for three days.