Page 51 of A Song to Drown Rivers
Fuchai just smiled and clapped his hands. Immediately, all the boxes were set on the ground and opened. For a moment, I was almost blinded. The brightest gems spilled out of them, forest-green jades and bronze mirrors and pearls overflowing, patterned porcelains and ivory sculptures carved in the shape of phoenixes.
“Yours, of course,” Fuchai said, picking up one of the studded necklaces and walking slowly up to me. He made another small gesture, and all the maids curtsied, retreating. They had been trained well, shutting the doors behind them when they left to offer us privacy. “What do you think?”
I offered the back of my neck to him. “Is it some special occasion? Are they handing out free jewelry at the morning market?”
Behind me, I could feel him smiling. His fingers were surprisingly nimble, locking the clasp in one try. “Consider it… compensation. For making you sit through the rest of the duels alone.” There was a sheepish note to his voice, like a child apologizing after playing when they shouldn’t have, and I realized with a start that he felt guilty. This was very… unusual. Throughout all of recorded history, it was taken for granted that a king should have countless concubines. If he paid them the slightest attention, they ought to weep with gratitude. And if he neglected their existence, left them for dead—well, that was a natural part of the deal too. Had I managed to soften him so completely?
“That was an interesting match,” I said, sidestepping the topic. Of course I wasn’t really angry; I’dwantedhim to go to Lady Yu. But it couldn’t hurt to have him feel indebted to me.
“Oh, yes, wasn’t it? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the general’s face quite so red, even after seven jugs of wine. It should be a humbling experience for him.”
I spun around to find him laughing.
“You’re not upset?” I wondered aloud, turning back again.
“Why would I be?” His hands lingered in the place he’d clasped the necklace, the heat of his fingers brushing against my skin. “It was a competition between my palace lady and my general. Both are mine. No matter the outcome, I still win.”
Sometimes he surprised me with the way his mind worked. “I doubt the general thinks of it that way,” I said, feigning lightness.
“Probably not.” He shrugged. “Zixu believes I should appeal to his ego a little, help him recover his pride.”
Wu Zixu again.“And how does he propose you do that?”
But he was already bored of the topic. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s stop talking about it now,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to the small of my waist. I could smell the day’s blood on him, mixed with some kind of cold fragrance. “Hm?”
“It seems rather important,” I tried.
He said nothing, just pressed his lips to my shoulder.
“Fuchai,” I said. A mistake. I’d wanted to get his attention, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
“I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing you call me by my name.” He wrapped his arm tighter around me. Pressed another kiss to my neck, his mouth grazing over the cool beads of the necklace. “Sometimes I swear—I only feel like a person when I’m around you. Does that make sense?”
“I—I think so—”
“Good.”
“But Fuchai…”
He made a small, soft sound with the back of his throat, almost like a sigh, and in a flash, he stepped around to face me, his handcupping my cheek. His eyes were black and dilated, his lashes so long they cast shadows in the lantern light. “You know, I used to believe,” he began, his lips skimming my throat in a long, languorous line, “the heavens were especially cruel to me. They forced me onto the throne when I never wished to be king. They took my father away from me.” Between every couple of words, he kissed me again, desperate and hungry and eager, like he’d been poisoned and I was the only thing that could save him. It was not unpleasant. That was the terrible thing. Physically speaking, it was… far from unpleasant. Even though deep in my heart of hearts I despised him, wanted him dead—my body could not help responding. “They took my friends away the instant this wretched crown was placed on my head. All those people I grew up with, studied beside; it was as if I had become a stranger to them. I had nobody to speak to, nobody to trust.” He tugged at his crown as he spoke, and it slid free, his hair mussed and curling loosely in ink-black locks over his forehead. Another tug, and the crown fell onto the bed beside us, the polished gold glinting over the white sheets.
This has to violate some sort of law, I thought dimly as he kissed the edge of my jaw, the corner of my mouth, his breathing unsteady.
“I know what the ministers think of me,” he continued, his voice rough. “They think I’m a disappointment, a shadow of my father. They all wish my father were the one ruling—” He huffed a bitter laugh, his nails curling against my robes. “Well, so do I. Then I would not be restricted by all this—all this.But the heavens must have mercy, still, because they led you to me. My beautiful Xishi.” He pulled me impossibly closer, as if every inch of distance between us hurt. “You will be the death of me.”
I let him run his fingers through my hair, let him push me slowly away from the blazing fire. Even as the heat spread through my body, I fought to keep my mind sober, clear as ice. It was like agame of chess. I couldn’t just succumb to the experience, couldn’t forget what I was here for.
“Kiss me,” he said hoarsely, earnest and foolish. “Kiss me until I forget everything.”
I obliged, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on my tiptoes. His lips were terribly soft, yet they crushed mine, deepening the kiss. I could taste something sweet like peach blossom wine on his tongue. My thoughts raced ahead of my movements, jumping erratically from place to place, some less helpful than others. The rumors about him visiting every brothel in the city must have been true. His hands were skilled, clearly well practiced.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked. “Right now. I want to know.”
“N-nothing.”
He kissed me harder, until my mind turned to water. “Tell me.”
“Nothing. Nobody, just—”Youwas what I meant to say. What had been poised on the tip of my tongue. But what came out was, “Fanli.”
