Chapter 9

ZHEN

Zhen froze.

A restive murmur rose. Everyone seemed confused. The courtesans appeared crestfallen.

Gao broke the silence. "Excuse me, Your Highness?"

"He works in the stable," the prince replied. "I don't know his family name. If there's more than one person named Zhen, bring

them to me and I'll tell you which one."

Next to Zhen, Qing spoke. "Yeah, the prince definitely likes boys."

A tall man in a gray robe came forward and bowed to the prince.

"Your Highness, I am Chu, steward of the courtesans. The person you speak of is not among those I have trained. However, I shall send for him without delay." He signaled to a pair of guards, who promptly exited the hall. "We seek your patience. He will be in attendance at your chamber by the end of the evening."

Zhen's heart dropped. He had to get back to the stable. But a guard was now stationed by the column they'd climbed to get

up to the roof. And the next column was too exposed.

"I'll distract him," Qing said. "When he moves away, you climb down."

Zhen caught her arm. "What about you? I can't leave you here by yourself—"

"I'm not the one they're sending for right now!" Qing batted his hand away. "What do you think will happen if those guards

don't find you at the stable?"

Before Zhen could stop her, she threw a tile fragment a distance away. The guard spun around; his hand went to his sword as

he moved away from the column to investigate.

"Zhen, go!" Qing hissed.

Zhen's stomach knotted. He was supposed to be watching out for Qing ; she shouldn't be putting herself in danger to help him. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself. But

if the guards couldn't find him at the stable, they would call for a wider search—and being discovered on the roof would get

them both in worse trouble.

Qing shoved his arm and muttered a swear word. "Now!"

Zhen slid down the column and landed noiselessly on the ground. He didn't look back, just ducked behind a manicured shrub

hedge and sprinted to the stable as fast as he could.

The permanent stable staff had their own quarters, but temporary hires did not. Most lived outside the palace in Changle and went home at the end of the day. Madam Hua allowed Qing to share her room, and Zhen slept in the barn behind the stable where hay bales, feed, and equipment were stored.

Zhen approached the rear of the barn, breathless from running. The flare of torches and voices drew closer; the guards had

already checked the stable and were heading to the barn. Which meant he couldn't go through the front entrance, and the back

door was locked from inside, so the only option left was an open window.

Torches bobbed as the guards entered the barn—

Zhen dived headfirst through the window and narrowly avoided snapping his neck when he landed on a bedding of hay in an awkward

roll. The human body had way too many breakable bones. Snakes had bones too, more than a hundred, but they were lightweight

and flexible enough to coil and constrict.

Zhen scrambled to his feet as the guards halted in front of him. He bowed, his hair falling in his face in a wild tangle.

"Good evening, sirs."

The guards eyed him askance. "What's your name?"

"I'm, uh, Zhen."

"You sure he's the one we're supposed to bring?" said the second guard. "He looks like he hasn't washed his hair in weeks."

The other shrugged. "Seems our guest of honor likes his gemstones very unpolished."

"Come with us." The guards' hands closed around Zhen's arms. "You've been summoned by the prince of Wuyue."

Zhen had never been inside any of the halls in the palace, but the shape and color of their roofs hinted at their importance and function. The banquet hall was rectangular and had a green roof with overhanging eaves and ceramic figures lining the ridges. The grandest building in the inner court had a yellow gabled roof with wide double eaves and carved dragons that rose above the four walls that surrounded its compound.

A tingle went up Zhen's spine. That was probably where the prince was staying—and where he would be sent to serve him later

that night.

The guards escorted Zhen to the Hall of Training Courtesans, a square building with a pavilion roof. The tall man in a gray

robe who had introduced himself in the banquet hall as the steward of the courtesans came out to meet them.

"I'll take the boy from here," he said curtly, and the guards left.

The steward's forehead creased as he regarded Zhen, who self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake out

bits of hay and debris caught in the long strands.

"I am Steward Chu, in charge of the training and upkeep of our young courtesans. For some unfathomable reason, the prince

of Wuyue has chosen you to be his attendant." Chu caught Zhen's chin and turned his head from side to side. "You have pleasing

bone structure. Remarkable symmetry. But you stink of horse. You're in dire need of a bath."

Chu marched Zhen down a corridor and into a large bathroom. A pair of middle-aged women in maids' uniforms dispassionately stripped him of his clothes, ushered him into a metal tub overflowing with suds, and scoured him so vigorously that he wished he still had scales. The abrasive strokes of the pumice momentarily distracted him from the embarrassment of being naked in front of two women who, in human terms, were both old enough to be his mother.

Chu stood by, watching the relentless scrub-down with a hawk's eye.

"Don't just luxuriate, pay attention and learn," he ordered, as if Zhen's grimacing could be mistaken for the expression of

someone luxuriating. "You will need to draw the prince's bath when he tells you to. The soap is made of plant ash and soapberries

from the Tibetan mountains. Rub the bar between your palms to create lather."

After the bath, the women slathered thick cream that smelled of plum and white lotus all over Zhen's stinging skin. One of

them combed and braided his hair while the other tended to his fingernails with a file. He was then dressed in a flowing silk

robe that reached to his ankles—"White," Chu had instructed, "it will bring out the fairness of his skin."

Zhen stared at his reflection in the large copper mirror. His white robe was exquisite, its wide sleeves surprisingly heavy.

The top half of his hair had been twisted into an elegant knot fastened by a white jade hairpin. The rest flowed onto his

shoulders and down his back in soft, straight locks.

He had never been so finely attired before... but something in him bristled. He couldn't help feeling as if the carved hairpin and elaborate braids marked him as property instead of a person, even though courtesans were treated above other palace workers, since they possessed not only beauty but also talents such as dancing, singing, and playing musical instruments.

Which made Zhen all the more bewildered that the prince had chosen him , of all people. He didn't have any skills, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette was to wait on nobles, much less

a royal. He had been hired to muck out horse stalls—and the prince knew this. So why had he picked Zhen?

"We have barely made you presentable, and our time is nearly up!" Chu looked harried. "All right, quickly now—show me how

you walk. From here to that cabinet and back again."

Zhen walked in a straight line. The cabinet was on a raised platform, and he lifted the hem of his robe off the floor as he

climbed the steps the way he'd seen noblemen and noblewomen doing. He made his way back and looked to Chu for approval.

Chu threw his hands up toward the ceiling. "I must have wronged heaven in some way to be given this impossible task! What

are you doing? We want the prince to behold the gracefulness of a crane, not the waddling of a flat-footed duck!"

Zhen winced. "I'm sorry."

Chu glowered at him. "You're sorry... what?"

"My lord. I'm sorry, my lord."

"Never forget to address the prince as Your Highness at all times. As his attendant, you must also kneel before him in greeting

whenever he enters the room. Rise only when he tells you to. Failure to show respect will be severely punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"A cot has been brought to the prince's chamber; that's where you will sleep unless he instructs otherwise," Chu continued

briskly. "The hour is late, and you will likely be called upon to do only two things for the prince tonight. I will show you

how to make a pot of tea."

Chu gestured at a pair of purple clay teapots and several delicate porcelain cups.

"You will find a similar set of tea ware in the prince's chamber. A high-fired teapot, like this one, is made of thin clay.

It can be used with any tea but is a must for rolled leaves with a strong fragrance, such as green, white, and oolong. The

other teapot is low-fired, made of clay that is thicker and more porous. It's suitable for large leaves with low fragrance,

like black and pu'er."

Chu described how to fill the teapot and told him the different brewing times for each tea, and Zhen tried to absorb as much

of the instructions as he could.

"You will serve dried plums and pistachios as snacks along with the tea," Chu finished. "Can you remember all of that?"

"Uh, yes, my lord." Zhen's mind was racing. "What about the second thing the prince will want?"

Chu met his gaze. "Whatever else the prince asks you for, do the best you can. Use the contents of the small bottle by the

bed."

Zhen stiffened. Qing was right—the prince would have one thing in mind on his first night away from home. Animals mated out

of instinct, sometimes even forcibly. Humans weren't much different.

Chu must have noticed Zhen's reaction.

"You are by no measure an ideal candidate for the prince's attendant," he said. "Deng is our finest male courtesan—I specifically sent him to welcome the prince, and I'm baffled as to why the prince did not spare him a second glance. If the prince is displeased with you tonight, Deng shall be your replacement. But if you somehow manage not to get dismissed, I'll teach you the rest of your tasks tomorrow. If you serve the prince satisfactorily during his stay, after he departs, you won't have to return to the stable. You're clearly not cut out to be a courtesan, but I'll have you assigned to other work in the palace that pays better."

Zhen bowed his head and followed Chu out of the Hall of Training Courtesans. When they arrived at the royal manor, Chu informed

the guards at the gate that Zhen was the prince's new attendant and should be allowed entry at all times.

Zhen blinked when they walked inside the walled compound. The main building in the north was flanked by two smaller buildings,

one on each side. In the middle was a square courtyard, divided into four equal quadrants by paved walkways. In one quadrant

stood a quaint white gazebo furnished with a round table and stone seats; in another was a pond decorated with rock formations

and a miniature waterfall. Two mandarin ducks floated on the surface among the lotus flowers. Zhen was reminded of the West

Lake on a calm spring night. He breathed in; the scent of magnolias tickled his nose.

Chu led the way up the marble steps and through the elaborate red door of the main building that opened into a spacious dining room. Before Zhen could take in the decor, Chu hurried him down a corridor on the left and halted in front of a pair of doors.

"This is where you shall serve the prince," he told Zhen. "Quickly, now."

Zhen entered the prince's bedchamber, and Chu shut the doors behind him. As Chu's footsteps retreated, Zhen stood alone in

the middle of the vast space. This was the first chance he'd had to catch his breath since sliding off the roof.

Braziers suffused the chamber with a warm glow, and the floral aroma of jasmine candles mingled with the earthy sandalwood

from the incense clock. Perfumed sachets filled with dried chrysanthemum hung from pennants at the four corners of the sprawling

platform bed, which was surrounded by delicate white gauze curtains that had been parted and tied back.

As Chu had described, a lacquered tray with two purple clay teapots and porcelain cups had been placed on a mahogany table.

A kettle sat on a ceramic stove. Lumps of coal had been banked underneath the circular burner hole, and there were several

pine sticks dipped with a dried yellowish substance to strike a flame.

Zhen recoiled. Sulfur. Snakes could not tolerate it.

In a corner, close to one of the latticed windows, was the plain wooden cot where he would sleep... unless the prince had

other ideas.

Zhen's gaze fell on a small bottle next to the bed. That was what Chu had told him to use. He removed the stopper and peered inside. The thick liquid had a slippery, sticky texture and smelled like red seaweed. The thought of using it made him queasy.

He could escape before the prince returned. Transform back into a snake, slither through the open window, and flee the palace.

He'd figure out a way to get word to Qing.

But another part of him didn't want to leave. The thought of seeing Xu again filled him with anticipation that was sharp,

strangely pleasurable. But would he feel the same way when he was with the prince?

The sound of the doors sliding open made Zhen whirl around. His heartbeat quickened as a familiar figure stepped inside the

chamber.

"Hello, Zhen." The prince shut the doors, a smile twitching on his lips. "Told you we'd be seeing each other soon."