Chapter 11
1788words
That sound traveled from the east wall all the way to the west gate, like a dull knife scraping against my bones. I sat at my dressing table, holding a gold hairpin, the phoenix wings on its head digging painfully into my palm. Lily knelt beside me, combing my hair, and as the comb teeth scraped across my scalp, I could hear her teeth chattering.
"Outside... they're killing people outside," she suddenly said, as the comb fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
I know. Last night when Lord Marcus was dragged away, I was watching through this window crack. They pinned him down by the lotus pond, there was a flash of a blade, and blood dyed half the pond red. The blood drifted along with the water ripples, turning brown by the time it reached the shore, like spilled rouge water from someone's home. The pond is still there now, but it's no longer koi fish swimming in it, but Lord Marcus's shadow.
"Continue combing." I bent down to pick up the comb and found a white hair stuck to it. So even at thirty-six, one can grow white hair.
Lily's hands were trembling terribly, the comb teeth constantly catching the ends of my hair. I simply took the comb myself and brushed it through, stroke by stroke. This hair of mine, once black as a crow's wing, now mixed with gray, mixed with white, mixed with the yellow of nights spent awake. Mother used to say, when a woman's hair turns white, her heart should soften. But my heart was long ago pickled by power into salty vegetables, and can no longer soften.
The clanking of armor outside ceased. I walked to the window and saw a squad of soldiers escorting Chancellor Thomas away. Yesterday he was wearing purple robes and kowtowing to me, today he's a prisoner. As he passed beneath my window, he looked up at me, his eyes like those of a pig awaiting slaughter at New Year—knowing death was coming yet still wanting to grunt a protest. I turned my face away and heard the dull thud of a blade striking bone.
"Your Highness..." Lily suddenly knelt down and grabbed my legs, "Please save them..."
Save them? I can't even save myself. Since yesterday when news of Prince Edward's ascension to the throne arrived, I knew this residence had become a cage. Whether a golden cage or a silver cage, it's still a cage. I walked toward the door, and immediately two armed guards blocked my path. Their scabbards were engraved with the characters "Dragon Guard"—newly carved, the blade edges still gleaming blue.
"Your Highness, the Crown Prince... no, His Majesty has ordered that you are not to leave the residence."
I smiled and turned to walk back. I've lived in this mansion since childhood, and could find my way back to my room with my eyes closed. But today, each step felt like walking on cotton. Passing by the kitchen, I saw the portrait of the Kitchen God torn down and thrown on the floor, with a footprint stamped on it. If the Kitchen God were truly efficacious, he should manifest himself to save us who are about to starve to death.
Back in my room, Lily was already crying her eyes out. She was holding a bundle that jingled as she moved.
"What's this..." I opened the bundle to find my jewelry box and a few changes of clothes.
"The matron said... said Your Highness should prepare early." Lily's tears fell onto the dressing table. "Everyone outside is saying... that His Majesty wants to..."
Wants to have me executed. She dared not speak these three words, but we both understood. I picked up the phoenix hairpin made of gold, remembering it was a gift from Lord Marcus last year. He said the phoenix is reborn from the ashes. Now the fire has come, but I cannot even take flight.
Around noon, a young eunuch arrived. An unfamiliar face, with skin as white as if dusted with flour, holding a red lacquered tray in his hands.
"Your Highness, His Majesty has sent a feast." He knelt with perfect posture, with a wine pot and a white silk ribbon on the tray.
I stared at the wine pot. It was blue and white porcelain, decorated with intertwining lotus patterns, with steam still rising from its spout. Lily suddenly lunged forward trying to grab it, but I stopped her. The eunuch trembled with fright, almost spilling the wine pot. I caught the scent—it was grape wine from the Western Regions, with a faint almond fragrance. Poisoned grape wine always has this smell, Lord Marcus had taught me.
"What else did His Majesty say?" I asked.
"His Majesty said... said that Your Highness has lived a dignified life, and should have a dignified end."
Dignity. I laughed, laughed until tears came out. Years ago when Mother ordered the death of Lady Han, she said the same thing. Dignity, the living need it, the dead need it even more. I waved for the eunuch to withdraw, and he even tripped over the threshold as he left.
The afternoon sunlight slanted into the room, making the white silk shine brightly. I reached out to touch it, it was ice-cold, like a frozen snake. Lily knelt at my feet crying, sobbing until she could hardly breathe. I suddenly remembered when she first came, she was only twelve, with her hair in two buns, but now those buns were undone, and she had become a woman.
"Go and call Lord Oliver here," I said.
Lord Oliver was my youngest son, just twenty years old this year. When he entered, his eyes were red and swollen; he must have been crying. This child resembled me, especially those eyes, upturned at the corners, always looking at people with a hint of pride. But now that pride was completely gone, replaced only by dismay.
"Mother..." he knelt down and hugged my legs, crying like when he fell as a child.
I stroked his hair and realized that there were white strands at his temples. Only twenty years old, yet graying earlier than me. The wind outside suddenly grew stronger, making the window paper rustle loudly, as if someone were wailing in grief.
"Listen to me." I cupped his face, "You should leave soon, take Lily and the others through the back door. Prince Edward... won't make things difficult for you."
"No!" he held onto me tightly, "I want to stay with mother!"
"Silly child." I wiped his tears, but they kept flowing, "What would you stay with me for? To accompany me to death?"
As soon as I said those words, I was shocked at myself. It turns out that saying the word "death" hurts more than being cut by a knife. Chongjian cried even harder, his tears soaking the hem of my skirt. I remembered when he had just learned to walk, he would cling to my leg just like this. Back then, I was busy meeting someone in the front hall and kicked him away. Now I truly wish I could go back to that time and hold that little ball of flesh once more.
"Remember your mother's words," I pried his hands away. "From now on, pretend you never had me as your mother. Live a good life, take a wife, have many children..." I choked up at this point, "Don't be like me, don't get involved with power. That thing devours people."
He was still crying when I pushed him out the door, his sobs echoing throughout the courtyard. I heard Lily crying too, their voices mingling together like a flock of funeral crows. Chongjian called out "Mother" one last time, his voice heart-wrenching. I almost couldn't resist rushing out to embrace him. But I couldn't. I was no longer their mother. I was a person about to die.
Everyone has left. I had the nanny dismiss all the servants, and even released the parrot I had kept for three years. The last to leave was an old gardener who kowtowed to me three times, breaking the skin on his forehead. The blood dripped onto the bluestone slabs, blooming like a tiny red flower.
As darkness fell, I returned to my inner chamber. The pot of wine was still steaming on the table, with the white silk coiled beside it like a white snake. I first washed my face, removing every trace of makeup. The woman in the bronze mirror looked frighteningly unfamiliar, with sunken eye sockets and downturned lips, resembling a vengeful ghost coming to collect a debt.
Opening the wardrobe, I found a lotus-pink jacket and skirt set pressed at the very bottom. This was made the year I first married. Back then, Duke Henry even praised how good I looked in this color. Now the skirt has yellowed, like day-old rice. I slowly put it on and discovered my waist has grown a full two inches wider, and the chest feels tight. It seems thirty years of time have been hidden within these stitches.
The woman in the mirror suddenly transformed into my mother. She wore a black robe with a ceremonial crown, her eyes cold as ice. I recalled hiding behind curtains as a child, watching her kill someone. She turned to me with a smile, saying, "Taiping, this empire will eventually be yours." Now the empire is no longer mine, but belongs to another son of hers. We mother and daughter fought all our lives, only to both lose to men of the Li family.
I picked up that jug of wine. The liquor gleamed amber in the candlelight, like a small pool of blood. Bringing it closer to smell, the almond scent grew stronger, mixed with an indescribable fishy sweetness. Lord Marcus once said this poison was called "Death Potion," after drinking it one first experiences stomach pain, then full-body convulsions, and finally bleeding from all seven orifices. He said this with a smile, claiming that even in death one should look beautiful. Now he has died first, looking anything but beautiful, face down in the mud and water, like a dead dog.
It seems my entire life has been nothing but a joke. I couldn't be like my mother, nor could I master love. Lord Marcus claimed to love me, then promptly embraced other women. Duke Henry was sincere, but unfortunately died too young. As for the other men, they were interested in my status and slept with me for my power. Now it's all gone—my status, my power, and soon my life as well.
