Apparently, Li Tao was not one to care about scandal and Suyin could do nothing to penetrate Auntie’s unquestioning acceptance of her master’s actions.
She selected the rose-coloured silk and followed Auntie behind the dressing screen. Auntie’s hands were slow as she tied on the embroidered bodice and pulled the outer robe over it. When Auntie bent to smooth out the layers of the skirt, Suyin wanted to urge her not to make such a fuss. There were no younger girls in the household staff to help with the task. No wife, no family. The mansion was so empty that one could hear every creak of the floorboards.
Much like her own home by the river.
Auntie evened out the ends of the crimson sash and tied it around Suyin’s waist, leaving the ends trailing down. Then the old woman beckoned her before the mirror.
‘The lady’s hair is thick and black as ink.’ Auntie ran a brush through in long strokes. ‘She is fortunate.’
One day she might live to be grey and bent like Auntie. Her skin would wither and she would be unrecognisable. Perhaps then the empire would grant her peace.
‘Auntie should know I am not the Governor Li’s mistress. I only met him a week ago. We’ve never spoken.’ She tried to catch the old woman’s eye through the reflection in the glass, but Auntie’s head remained bent at her task. ‘I am loyal to the memory of the August Emperor.’
Auntie sniffed again. ‘Master has always been loyal to the August Emperor.’
‘But not to Emperor Shen.’
Suyin winced as Auntie tugged at her hair to wrestle it into a knot. The point of the ivory hairpin jabbed into her scalp. She would have no ally here.
The claws of the familiar game were closing in, the one she had mastered in the imperial court. Who could she trust? Who would help? She had played it ever since being taken away from her home as a child, bought for the bride price of a hundred copper coins.
Watching Lady Ling was like watching a well-crafted opera. She sat before him in the parlour, shoulders lifted in elegant repose, a peach blossom against the colourless walls. The curve of her lips as she sipped her tea was too perfect to be unpractised.
‘I have been thinking.’ She glanced at him over the rim of the cup. ‘It’s not me you want.’
‘What is it that I want?’ he asked.
‘I’m nothing but a symbol. Capturing me must be as significant as—’ she looked at him with a sideways glance ‘—capturing a flag. Why else would a warlord have any interest in a lowly concubine?’
‘Lowly,’ he mused.
He leaned back against his chair to study her. Suyin was undeniably beautiful. So much so that it was both hard to look at her and hard to look away. Soft, sensual mouth and skillfuly expressive eyes wide. The ivory-pale skin at her throat alone made his fingers itch.
‘You were once a courtesan in the pleasure district of Luoyang,’ he remarked.
‘A long, long time ago, Governor.’
‘Many secrets flowed through Luoyang.’
She smiled at him. For him. ‘Wine and music and all sorts of secrets.’
The words carried the lilt of laughter, but when her gaze fixed on him he caught the cold flash of calculation. There was much more to her lure than seduction. Her every gesture spoke of possibilities. Her every movement enticed him to relax his guard, while her defences were most certainly in place. He had no patience for such ruses.
‘I have no need of a mistress.’
His words fell impassively, yet his stomach knotted at the thought of this woman in his bed. Merely a twinge before it was gone.
Her lips pressed tight. She set her teacup down with a distinct clank against the wooden table. ‘I wasn’t offering.’
Never directly. The unspoken was always so much more tempting. He could continue to let her tease and beguile or he could set the terms.
‘They say you can bring a man to his knees with a single look,’ he said.
She propped her chin on to her hands with wicked interest, well aware of the picture she presented. ‘They also say I seduced the Emperor and brought down the empire.’
‘Nonsense.’ He found his pulse increasing to the rhythm of their exchange. His body warmed and he almost liked it. ‘I know what will bring down this empire and it has nothing to do with one man’s obsessive love for his precious concubine.’
‘The Emperor never loved me.’
The abruptness of her denial surprised him. Looking downwards, Suyin traced a fingertip absently over her teacup. A ripple of sadness crossed her face. The imperfection heightened her allure and disappeared so quickly he wondered if she had put it there for his benefit. He would go mad trying to decipher her.
‘They say things about you as well.’ She was no longer trying to charm him. Her voice sharpened to a dagger’s point. ‘About all the men you’ve killed.’
‘At the Emperor’s command,’ he replied evenly.
‘And they were all at his request?’
‘No.’
The lady carried herself admirably. It was only after his prolonged silence that she blinked away.
‘The Emperor died of illness in his bed, Governor Li. I had nothing to do with it, despite what the rumours may say. If …’ She faltered, staring at the dragon ring on his second finger. ‘If that is why you’ve come for me.’
There had been rumours that the August Emperor’s sudden death had been due to poisoning. She hid her hands beneath the table, but not before he caught the tremor in them. Deliberately, he folded his fingers over the insignia, hiding the ring from view.
‘You had the most to lose from his death. The Emperor was your protector.’
‘Emperor Li Ming was a great man,’ she declared, looking more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.
‘Li Ming was a great man,’ he echoed.
It was best he think of her as another man’s woman, even if that man was already dead. It was best not to think of her as a woman at all. He let his gaze slide over her face, assessing her as he would an opponent. By cleverness or coincidence she invoked the name of one of the few men he respected. One of the two men to whom he had ever sworn allegiance. He had betrayed one for the other.
‘You said you knew what would bring down the empire,’ she continued in a more conversational tone. ‘What would that be?’
‘The empire will bring itself down. The imperial court has become removed from the reality of governing.’ The answer came easily. He’d seen the decay from within for too long.
‘And the warlords can smell the blood,’ she countered.
The Precious Consort had done much more than pour wine and play music during her reign in court. He watched her with more care.
‘Men who are accustomed to war find themselves restless during times of peace,’ he goaded. ‘They crave that taste of battle, the feel of death hanging over them.’
The barest of creases appeared between those pretty eyes. He found he liked catching her unaware.
‘How you must miss all those plots and schemes, Lady Ling.’
‘Miss them?’ The melodic quality of her voice sharpened. ‘I fought for my life every day in the palace.’
She tilted her gaze at him and he detected the steel beneath her elegant demeanour. A flash of armour amidst the softest silk. Endlessly elusive. No wonder men tried to capture her in paintings and flowery words. He, for reasons he couldn’t clearly discern, had