Page 6 of A Song to Drown Rivers
A stunned silence fell over the room.
Fanli’s expression was somber, his hands clasped over the teacup, the white steam trailing through the air like ghosts. He looked entirely serious.
“That’s—” A laugh tore out of me, the sheer absurdity of it sinking in. “Forgive me, but that’s ridiculous. I cannot marry a king. I’ve never married anyone before. I’ve never even wandered farther than the borders of my village. I do not know how to curtsy properly, or eat whatever royals eat—”
“You would receive intensive training over the course of ten weeks,” he said, as if he’d been expecting this response. “I will oversee it myself, to ensure everything goes as planned. With my guidance, you will be more than ready when I escort you to the Wu palace. Believe me.”
A lump rose in my throat. The room suddenly felt too small, the tea’s fragrance too strong, too heady. I couldn’t think.
“She’s only a commoner,” my mother said, shaking her head. Her voice trembled when she spoke. She seldom refused anything, let alone the request of a king; to do so was dangerously close to treason. But she did not leave my side. “This marriage—this mission—is there really nobody better suited for it?”
“The plan is to send two tributes,” Fanli replied. “A concubine, and a palace lady to accompany her. I have already found another candidate from your village who I believe will be fitting for the role of the latter. But to be frank… ever since I set out in search of this bride, I have visited countless places and seen plenty of beautiful women. Those with the elegance of swans and the voices of larks. Yet compared to Xishi, they wink out into obscurity, like the stars beside the moon. It was the villagers’ gossip which led me here, but now I have seen it with my own eyes, and I know it to be irrefutably true: Xishi is a beauty for the legends. Our chances of success will only be high if she is the one to go.”
“And if I do succeed?” I whispered.
His gaze met mine, and for a moment, all else ceased to be. The mournful cry of the geese, the rustling of trees. Everything seemed to shrink down to just the two of us. A shiver raced through my body, as if I already knew in my core, even then, the significance of what came next. “If you do succeed, Xishi,” he said quietly, “you will be the savior of our kingdom. You will forever alter the course of history.”
I ran out into the yard, gasping.
Though the air was warm, the sky lightening to blue, the chill in my bones only deepened. My head swam. My knees buckledbeneath me. Alone outside, I tried to envision the future Fanli had drawn for me, one of gilded halls and vermilion robes and secrecy—but my imagination could not extend much further than that. All my life, I had known only the hushed song of the river and the lotus flowers abloom over the pond near my feet.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my head against the unyielding wall of the house. My breathing grew shallow. Yet his words did not leave me.Legend. Kingdom. History.These were new words in my vocabulary. They carried weight, solidity. I turned them over on my tongue, and they tasted sharp, like metal and blood. They were so different from what I was used to hearing:beautiful.That old blessing, that tired curse. So flimsy and temporal, so easily faded, like the plum blossoms that withered in midwinter. And then, as I considered it, a small, quiet laugh of disbelief fell from my lips.
The village aunties had always said that my beauty would be what changed my fate. I doubted anybody had thought it would mean this.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
I tensed. They were too quiet to belong to my father and too slow to belong to my mother.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” I called out.
“I know,” came Fanli’s mild response. He stepped out in full, the light falling on the intricate blue threads of his robes, the sharp planes of his face. “I understand that it is a lot to absorb.”
“It is my whole life,” I couldn’t help saying. Perhaps it was unwise to say these things aloud, especially to him. But I went on. “It would change everything.”
“I know,” he said again, coming to a stop two feet away from me, though I wasn’t sure what kept him there. Propriety? Politeness? Consideration of my feelings? Or did he simply keep his distance from everybody?
“What about my parents? If I go, who will take care of them?” Without realizing, my nails had bitten red crescents into my palms. I made a conscious effort to unfurl them, hide them behind my back. “I’m their only child.” The words bruised my throat.Their only child leftwas more accurate, but that would hurt too much. And I did not know if I could even still consider myself someone’s sister. Such a term was a string, linking one to another, implying two parts of a whole. Without Susu, the string went slack; the term had no meaning.
“That, you need not worry about. I will ensure they receive a handsome compensation, with their clothes and food provided for as long as they live. They will never have to work a day again, unless they wish to.”
“Truly?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
But his gaze was clear, free of deceit. “I give you my word.”
“I’m afraid a man’s word alone is not enough. I would prefer a written document, with the king’s seal, stipulating all that you have promised.”
Again, I had managed to surprise him. “If you would like,” he said slowly. “That can all be arranged for you. So long as you go.”
I could admit: It was tempting. It was so tempting, but—
“I am not going to assure you it is an easy mission. On the contrary, it will be most demanding, not to mention dangerous. You will have to leave your family behind. You will have to adapt quickly to the ways of the royals and nobles, who are all wolves wearing sheepskin. Life in a village like yours is simple; everything happens on the surface. In the palace, everything happens in the shadows. Someone could smile at you one moment and stab you the next. And of course—” His voice grew clipped, grave. “Of course, there is the matter of the king himself.”
I exhaled heavily, my skin breaking out into goose bumps.Yes, I thought.That one small matter.
“You will be sharing his bed,” he stated, his expression cool and collected, as if he were discussing state affairs. Which, I supposed in a way, was what this was. Politics and power, the opposite of romance. “You will need to charm him, win his trust, until he cares about nothing in the world except you. He is not the most moral of men, and he has never shown devotion to a single person before.”
“And you really think I can do it?” I asked, turning my head an inch to meet his eyes. “I have never tried to charm a man before. Not deliberately.”
