Temptation of the Butterfly, page 13
Chu Dun and Tan Ho looked disappointed, but not overly upset as they made jokes and tried to liven the mood of the somber table. Unfortunately, with his soft voice, Ho couldn’t be heard over the entire table.
Chi Tan’s expression matched Lord Ye’s, as if they couldn’t understand why they hadn’t been picked above all others. This irritated her, because they almost acted as if this was some game to be won and not a marriage to be had. It made her wonder what would’ve happened after the wedding if she’d have chosen them. Would the fun be over and would they be off to the next sport?
Fen took a deep breath, trying not to be overly harsh in judging the men. It wasn’t their fault none of them was Aaron.
Aaron.
He never felt so far away as he did now. She was engaged to another. His honor was blemished by some deed of his past. Fen wanted to ask her mother for details, but the woman would hardly welcome the queries. The empress would not lie about such a thing, and Aaron didn’t make one sound to defend himself, which could only mean it was true. It must have been a seedy thing indeed to make a grandmother turn out her grandson.
Fen had even tried asking An, but the spirit knew nothing about it. Though, she was angry with Fen for conceding to the empress’ wishes.
Her heart automatically wanted to romanticize the situation, giving her head excuses, telling her that he could’ve changed from the man he was. The facts were there, but she didn’t know them all. Regardless, she couldn’t let her heart rule her head. It didn’t matter anyway. She was to be married and Aaron would be kept safe, far away from Lord He’s reaching talons.
After the shui guo cha was served and they all sat around the long table sipping the spiced tea, the empress drew their attention to the astrologers. Madame Eng’s green silk gown had long sleeves that trailed to the floor. The outfit matched those of the other astrologers—all short, tiny old women who shuffled their feet when they walked. The only contrast was Madame Bing, whose rounded frame stuck out when they filed along in a straight line.
Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to movement in the corner. Without really seeing him, she sensed him. It was Aaron.
What was he doing here? The full impact of her choice hit her like a kick to the chest. She turned her rounded eyes to her mother, doing her best to keep the tremor from her hand and the pain from her face.
The empress was already approaching her. Fen stood without waiting to be beckoned. At once, Li was by her side, coughing slightly.
Her mother must have read her confused expression, for she nodded once. Pulling her arm, the empress drew Fen aside and whispered, “A royal pardon for a royal announcement.”
Fen wondered if her mother had planned this as part of her punishment. Or perhaps this was her way of ensuring all ties between them were severed. No man who witnessed a woman’s betrothal would dare make advances toward her without fear of repercussions from her intended.
“Madame Eng,” Fen said. The hall was quiet and her quivering voice resounded over it. “It is my wish…” She paused as she felt Li take her elbow, touching her gently. Glancing at him, she amended, “It is our wish to marry. Please tell us if it is to be a blessed and happy match.”
This was all for the sake of ceremony, but the empress clearly wanted it all down. Fen noticed a scholar recording her words. Until she stood, she hadn’t seen him behind the table.
“It would be an honor, Princess,” Madame Eng said. “Many blessings.”
“Many blessings.” The rejected suitors toasted halfheartedly, lifting their glasses.
“A true honor.” Madame Bing shyly started to step forward but drew back behind the others at the last second.
“A great honor.” Madame Kel waved her hand to the side before placing it over her heart.
“We will use all our powers to ensure your happiness,” Madame Chaim added, grinning widely.
“A true and great honor,” Madame Cong agreed, nodding smartly. She was a bit of a busybody who liked to be before crowds, as was evident by the slightly overpowering thunder of her tone. “And one we take with great seriousness.”
“Thank you,” Fen said. The palace scholar recorded every word, writing on his electronic clipboard at a fevered pace.
“We look to your wisdom and your guidance,” the empress said. Fen glanced at her, mildly annoyed by the interruption. Apparently, her mother didn’t think she was putting on a good enough show for the other suitors.
The women busied themselves, looking over notes and scrolls. Fen tried not to look toward Aaron’s shadowed corner, but it didn’t change her awareness of his presence.
Fen knew they’d already prepared their answer and wasn’t surprised when, after some time and fiddling, Madame Eng announced, “We have consulted the charts. The couple is well matched in age, birthdates, and birth hours.”
“There might be some tension in the home with the two signs,” Madame Bing added in caution, “but only if the marriage is not tended like a garden.”
Madame Kel was next, her eyes narrowing. “Odds would be best if they married soon.”
“Very soon,” Madame Chaim added.
“Wait,” Madame Bing said, pointing to a chart. “This conflicts that point.”
“What?” Madame Eng asked. All the women crowded around the chart. Madame Eng reached out and brushed her hand across it, wiping it clean. “Ah, that makes more sense.”
“We asked the ancestors for guidance,” Madame Cong said. “They were unclear.”
“What of the bones?” the empress inserted quickly, no doubt not wanting Zhang An to have any say in the matter.
“Ah, favorable,” Madame Chaim said.
“So said the shells from the Satlyun.” Madame Kel nodded wisely.
“And your conclusion?” the empress asked.
“There is one more thing to consult. The Chien Tung.” Madame Eng stepped around the table, reaching into her gown for the bamboo sticks.
Eng suddenly tripped, stumbling forward. The wooden sticks flew out at the couple, hitting both Fen and Li before falling to the floor.
The astrologers gasped, rushing forward to help Eng off the floor. Once to her feet, Madame Eng brushed off their hands. She turned to the princess, an apology started—only to freeze, staring at Fen’s head.
Fen reached up, feeling a stick in her hair. She pulled it out and looked at its markings. They didn’t mean anything to her. She reached forward to hand it to Eng.
The astrologer shook, hesitating before taking it and turning to the others.
They whispered in a frenzy of gestures and moans before addressing the hall once more. “We are sorry, but this match cannot be. If you were to marry, it would result in a quick death.”
Fen was too stunned to move. Never in all her years had she heard of the astrologers turning down a match. Sometimes they warned against certain elements, giving advice, but never had they said a flat no.
“What?” the empress gasped. She turned to the table and waved her hands. Fen watched the men file out of the dining hall. Lord Ye openly smiled at her, but she was too stunned to notice if his excitement was shared by all.
Fen looked toward the corner for Aaron. He was still there. Relief flooded her at the realization, yet she worried that harm might befall him at this unexpected change.
“You said the signs were favorable,” the empress said. The emperor stood beside her, quietly listening. Aside from her parents, the astrologers and her questionable fiancé, Fen and Aaron were the only others left in the room—unless he stood with someone she couldn’t see. She wondered why Aaron stayed. He pressed against the wall, holding still as if not to be noticed.
“This,” Madame Eng held up the stick that she’d gotten from Fen’s hair, “is death. Never in my days have I pulled this stick, and now it lands on your daughter as she stands next to Deng Li.”
“Combined with what we know, it is clear that if Princess Fen marries Deng Li, she will die within two moons,” Madame Chaim announced with certainty, staring down at the fallen sticks as they lay scattered on the floor. “It is very clear.”
“Very.” Madame Cong pursed her lips tightly together as she too studied the fallen sticks.
Fen turned to look at Li. He smiled at her and took her hand. Very quietly, he said, “I am sorry, Princess. Your life is not a risk I could take. Thank you for gracing me with your proposal and let us part as friends.”
Fen nodded. “Of course.”
Li bowed to her before doing the same to the astrologers and then the royal couple. He took his leave, saying, “I will leave you to this family affair.”
When he was gone, Madame Eng added, “There is more.”
“More that has nothing to do with marriage,” Madame Cong said.
“The princess’ life is in danger,” Madame Kel said.
“Grave danger.” Madame Bing stepped forward, only to pull back behind the others.
“She must be taken from the palace, for there is one here who would see her harmed,” Madame Chaim said.
“A cold, cold spirit.” Madame Eng shivered visibly.
“Controlled by one who is close to the princess,” Madame Kel added.
“Someone close to me wishes to do me harm?” Fen asked, shocked. They’d suspected someone was after her, but someone close?
She looked at Aaron in the corner, wanting to run to him.
“I see,” the empress said. Fen’s gaze gave Aaron away. Her mother stiffened, staring at the man a little longer than necessary.
“Empress?” Fen shook her head in denial when her mother glanced at her. Aaron was not trying to kill her. No part of her could believe that.
“Princess Fen must be protected,” Madame Chaim said.
“Please, ladies,” the empress said, “go consult all your powers. We must know more.”
The astrologers readily agreed, leaving the hall in a flurry of hushed tones.
“I think it would be best if I visit Jin,” Fen said.
“And leave the palace?” the empress demanded. “But we can protect you. We have guards.”
“And Francesca can defeat every one of our guards,” Fen reminded her. “I’ll be safe with her. Please.” Fen turned her eyes to her father, who’d been abnormally quiet. “Please, Emperor. I do not feel safe here. Let me go to Jin and Francesca in disguise. There, I can hide out.”
“Shi, I think that might be best,” the emperor said.
“And if that doesn’t work out, I’ll see if Mei won’t take me with her into—”
“No.” The empress cut her off immediately. “You are not going into space with your sister. You are staying on Lintian. Nothing good comes from going into space.”
Don’t worry, Empress. If I went to space, I’d be running away from marriage, not into it.
“What will we say?” the empress asked.
“That Fen is purifying herself,” the emperor said.
“No, then it will be assumed that she had sins to atone for.” Her mother’s cutting glance pierced her with its intensity. “We will say she is ill.”
“Fine,” the emperor said. “But a short illness. We don’t want people to think she’s sickly.”
The emperor gave her a small smile before quickly hiding it from his wife.
“Shi, then she will have reason to purify herself if she was ill.” The empress nodded in agreement. “Haun should escort her. When the astrologers determine that the threat is out of the palace, we will bring her back and she will wed…” Her mother gave her an expectant look.
“Um, Ye Shing,” Fen said, using the first name that popped into her head.
The empress smiled in pleasure.
“But, we should wait to tell anyone,” Fen said, causing her mother’s happy expression to fade. “I don’t want to appear desperate for a husband. Think of our reputation.”
For once, the excuse of family honor was going to work in her favor.
“Shi, you are right.” Still, the empress didn’t seem too happy about it.
“I will send for Haun,” the emperor said, walking away.
“I don’t see why you’re upset,” Fen told her mother when they were alone. “We had a bargain and I will stick to it. You send Aaron home and I will marry one of your noblemen. What difference is it to you whether it is tomorrow or in ten moons?”
“Ten?” The empress shook her head. “Don’t think you’re putting it off that long, daughter. I guarantee we’ll have everyone in the palace searched and the culprit discovered long before then.”
“Ten moons was just a random number, Mother,” Fen said, shaking her head. “Besides, I tried to marry Deng Li. You can’t blame me if fate had other plans.”
* * *
If the empress had wanted to torture him, she’d picked the perfect thing. Watching Fen announce that she wanted to marry another man was agony. He couldn’t hear what was happening now, only saw the look on Fen’s face. Her skin was pale, her eyes round, and she didn’t look happy. Had she wanted to marry the man who now walked away, who left her alone?
“Blessed ancestors help me, but I love you, too, Aaron. I love you, too.”
Her words echoed inside him, playing over and over in his head. Had they been a lie? His heart didn’t want to believe it, but really, what did he know about the princess? What besides the image the public saw and the woman who came to him in seduction? They hadn’t talked, not really. No promises had been made.
But her beautiful dark eyes, they were so clear, so kind. And when she’d said she loved him, she had meant it. He had to believe that, for when she said the words, his whole world seemed to have meaning, and he felt something that he hadn’t felt since being a small child—pure happiness.
Love or not, they were not meant to be. She was a princess and he was a disowned peasant. Even if it wasn’t so, he’d never be worthy of her. How could a mortal man ever be worthy of a perfect butterfly?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fen smiled for the first time since being caught in the library with Aaron two days before. The wind blew her hair back from her head as the large craft hovered over the meadows, sailing past the lush Lintianese countryside to take her away from Honorable City. She’d wanted to leave immediately after the prediction, but security measures had to be taken. Haun had taken care of everything. He had checked the land craft to make sure it wasn’t compromised, planned the route they would take, and decided which servants could be trusted to help with their departure.
The tu di hang, land craft, was designed after the ancient junk ships of Old Earth. The large sails harnessed the wind, giving speed with the help of the solar panels hidden in the dark wood. The panels were so small they couldn’t be seen by human eyes.
The dark brown wood was accented with gold and red, and an eye was painted on one side next to the Lintianese character for the Zhang family name. The eye actually hid a sensor that read their palms so that it could never be stolen—or in the case of a very young Haun, never again be taken out for a joyride. It was his little midnight trips that had inspired the lock on the royal family’s tu di hang.
Fen leaned against the rail, letting her silk gown flutter in the breeze as she stood on the oval deck, high on a platform that overlooked the distance. She’d worn a cloak to disguise her as they left the palace—just in case any saw them go in the early morning hours.
The wooden belly of the craft brushed the taller blades of yellow-blue grass, making a swooshing noise as they sped past. The red of the giant hong jio ju flowers blended against the blades, leading the eye to a forest nestled in the distant horizon. Three stiff canvas sails were unfurled overhead. Their large span cast shadows over the deck. A heavy anchor hung from the front, used mostly in case of a windstorm when the craft needed to be secured. They never got windstorms in the palace, but out on the open plains the harsher weather was more common.
Haun stood at the helm, just down a small row of steps from her, quietly watching the land drift by. The craft had self-navigation, but Haun often turned it off in favor of driving it himself. Fen figured it was because he was used to always being in control. They were far from the palace, but close to the place Jin and Francesca were to call home.
A cluster of farmhouses formed a village. They sailed past and Fen marveled at the beauty of their dark walls against the pale blue sky. It was these moments of freedom from the palace that made her remember just how much of a paradise Lintian could be.
“It makes you wonder why the palace has walls, doesn’t it?” Haun asked from her side. His hair whipped violently about his head and the dark silk of his long tunic shirt pressed tight against his chest.
Fen jolted in mild surprise to hear his voice but smiled in answer. “I know the walls are to keep people out, but often I feel as if they’re trapping me in.”
She felt closer to her oldest brother through all that was happening, like she finally understood him.
Duty and honor.
“There will not always be walls,” Haun said, and Fen wondered at his meaning. Before she could ask, he pointed at the distant trees, whose spiny leaves pointed to the side. The leaves traveled with the sun, pointing always in its direction. At night, they would fall down, only to rise again on the other side as the sun came with the dawn. “The Hsi Yang Forest. We’re close.”
Fen nodded as Haun went back down to steer the craft. The Guoh Yuan Hsi Yang Forest, or orchard of the setting sun, truly was a beautiful sight. The sun was low, giving a softer glow to the whole valley. After a few minutes, they slowed as they approached a hill which overlooked the valley they traveled in.
A building was on top of the hill. It was small, but Fen could see enough of it to tell it looked very much like one of the palace buildings. It was somewhat misplaced in the wilderness, the tiled rooftop arching toward heaven as it sat high on a tier. Another building, one more rustic in style, was in the middle of construction, though no one presently worked on it. Boards were piled along the side frame and she could see sections yet to be covered.
