The Concubine (4 page)

So she did what her mother had taught her. She smiled sweetly with as vacant an expression as possible. If you do not wish to answer, Mama had said, then let them believe you a blank piece of art—beauty without mind—and they will forget you ever disquieted them. That was her plan and it had worked thousands of times before. Until now.

The master’s lips curled in disdain. He did not hide his disgust as he turned to address the whole room. “You who remain will be taken for inspection. You will stand naked before the doctor. You will allow the physician to touch and measure and poke in whatever manner is required. You will endure this in silence, for in such a way we ensure that you are indeed a virgin.”

Gasps of horror greeted these words. Most of the girls had never seen a physician before. But Mama had foreseen this particular trial and prepared Ji Yue. In fact, Ji Yue had already seen a doctor and had the process completely explained to her. Though repugnant, it would not cause her agony.

“And,” continued the master with a sardonic sneer, “this examination will be repeated regularly. I suggest you guard your virginity well.”

Ji Yue frowned. How could she—or any of these girls—lose their virginity here where they were surrounded at every turn? And even if there were opportunities for dalliance, who would do something so stupid?

She wasn’t given time to wonder as the remaining virgins were divided into groups. Ten in each with Ji Yue as the last in her line. The first girl was taken immediately by a eunuch into a tiny room while the others sat outside and waited. And waited. And waited. An hour later, the girl reappeared, her clothing askew and muffled sobs coming from behind her curtain of black hair.

“What happened?” they all asked. “Why are you crying?”

The girl did not answer, but merely dashed away, escorted by the same eunuch who had led them here. Then it was the next girl’s turn. She entered the chamber with only a soft mewl of distress, then came out wailing less than twenty minutes later.

“What happened?” she asked the eunuch.

He curled his lip in disgust. “Southern girls. Too hairy!”

“She is sent home?” asked another.

The eunuch nodded.

It took Ji Yue two breaths before she realized exactly what he meant by too much hair. Then she began to panic. How stupid had she been! Of course a check for virginity would inspect the lower body regions! Her mother had already consulted fortune tellers to learn exactly how much hair was too much or too little. Ji Yue was safe on that count. But she had put on her cream, and that certainly would be discovered!

The other girls were beginning to panic, too, and they thought about ripping out their hair before the inspection. One went so far as to try to leave. She was stopped by a pair of eunuchs guarding the exit. When she returned, tears were trembling on her lashes.

“He won’t let me go back to my room.”

“It won’t do any good, anyway,” Ji Yue inserted. “They will notice swelling if you do anything now.” Just as they would notice her sweet-smelling cream.

Never mind, she consoled herself. The worst that could happen to her was that she would be bathed along with the other girls. It would be embarrassing but not fatal. Except, just then the young girl—the one who had screamed in the main room—was dragged past. Her hair was in wet clumps, her face was scrubbed raw, and her arms showed ugly welts where she had been pinched. She was sobbing again, only this time it was the miserable heartsore sobs of a woman with no hope.

Ji Yue was on her feet in a second. “Stop!” she ordered the guard. “Stop!” She went to the girl, her expression tender as she pushed the wet, stringy strands of hair out her eyes. “Surely it is not so bad as all that,” she said softly.

“I am to be sent home!” the girl wailed.

Ji Yue froze, her gaze leaping to the stone-faced eunuch. “But why?”

“She was brought before the dowager consort, who declared her too ugly.”

“But of course she is…is…unattractive like this! With dark bruises and raw patches.”

The eunuch did not seem to care. “She was too young, anyway.” And with that, he dragged her away.

Ji Yue had no choice but to sink down on her seat in fear. At her age, she did not dare appear before the dowager consort soaking wet, her hair askew, and her skin blotchy. And yet, without access to a bathing chamber, how could she wash away her cream?

No answer presented itself no matter how much she thought. And one by one, the girls disappeared into the room. Another girl was dismissed for being knock-kneed. The others came out tearful, even distraught, but they were allowed to dress for the next task: lunch with the dowager consort.

Then it was Ji Yue’s turn. She stepped into the room, exhaling in relief when she saw the physician: a woman, thank heaven. She was elderly, with crabbed hands, a thin nose and a voice that sounded sharp with anger. “You’re not going to cry, are you? I’ve had all I can stomach this morning and I’ll not tolerate any more hysterics, understand?”

Ji Yue nodded, judging it wisest to keep silent.

“You’re older than the other girls.”

She shook her head. “No, no. I was born in the year of the rooster,” she lied. “At night, too, which is an excellent time for a girl,” she added, just in case the physician didn’t realize that girls born during the time of “roosting” were likely to be tame and submissive.

The doctor crinkled her nose as she peered closer. “If that’s true, then you will not age well.”

“She was born in the year of the horse, I’d wager,” a man’s voice said behind her.

Ji Yue spun around, but she already knew who was there: her personal tormentor—the master of the festival. He was hidden behind the door, which was why she hadn’t noticed him earlier, and he had a casual smirk on his too-handsome face. She stiffened in shock, though inside, her heart beat triple time. “Do you accuse me of lying?” she demanded.

“Of course I do,” he answered calmly. “Why would you have the word ‘Ji’—grain—in your name if not for being a horse?” He smiled, his expression lazy and sensuous as he listed the attributes of a girl born late in a horse year. “Which means you are destined for a hard life, Ji Yue, one of much labor. You may be broad-minded, but you lack perseverance and are incapable of keeping secrets.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she snapped.

He leaned forward. “If I were you, I would have lied about my age, as well.”

She turned from him, unable to look him in the eye. He had named her exact reasons for lying. Though she dismissed the thought that the year and time she was born determined anything about her, she knew that others took great store by it. Especially when predicting who would make the most fertile concubine.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled from behind her. “Being an empress is a difficult task. I would expect her to be a woman who labors hard.”

Beside her, the physician snorted through her thin nose. “All women labor hard, no matter their age. Come, come, I’m hungry. Let us see your breasts.”

Ji Yue blinked, understanding hitting with a blinding flash. She was to be measured now, stripped naked and evaluated. While he watched.

She couldn’t do it. No matter what her attributes were, he would judge her harshly, and the physician would agree. That was the way of things in China: the men made the decisions and the women had to go along with whatever idiocy resulted. If he made sure she failed the physical examination, she would be sent home within the hour! Therefore, she had to find a way to oust him from the room, and that meant appealing to the doctor.

So Ji Yue smiled sweetly and dropped into as deep a curtsey as possible. “Reverend lady,” she said to the physician. “I swear I will not fight you. I will neither curse nor faint. Surely, therefore, there is no need for another here? Let the master of the festival find his lunch.” That last was for him. Perhaps if he was hungry, she could induce him to leave.

“I have already eaten,” he drawled. Glancing behind her, she saw that there indeed was an empty plate.

“Two steamed dumplings,” the doctor groused. “But does he think to bring one to the woman who works so hard?”

“Were you hungry?” the master asked with a false smile. “My apologies. Perhaps we can speed this up.” Coming forward, he pulled Ji Yue around. His touch was firm, but not bruising, and his gaze raked her body without mercy. “Can you not see what the evaluation will say?”

“That I am perfect in every way!” Ji Yue retorted.

“On the contrary,” the master sneered. “Your face is barely acceptable. Eagle shaped, your nose is cursed, your tongue is worse.”

Ji Yue lifted her chin. “Eagle features are striking on women. Their features command respect.”

“Humph,” the master retorted. “Your breasts are flat like plates. One, maybe two children at most can be nurtured before your chest is empty.”

“You cannot see that!”

“Then disrobe and prove me wrong,” he challenged. Before she could do more than gasp, he abruptly spun her around to stare at her bottom. “Your bottom is rounded—”

“That’s good,” she said as she peered over her shoulder. “It means I can be passionate. A good quality in a concubine.”

“But yours is too rounded. Your passions will rule you to your detriment.”

“That’s not true!” she snapped as she whirled back around to face him. From behind her, the physician cackled.

“Your reaction proves his point, girl. Control yourself.”

It was good advice, but Ji Yue’s temper was fully engaged. “He cannot know these things!” she cried. “You must examine me to be sure.”

“But why bother?” continued the master. “She is hot tempered, so her labia will be dry, and her womb too short to support a child. The emperor will have no children by this girl.”

Ji Yue clenched her hands in frustration. He was destroying her chances! Without even allowing her an examination, he was telling the doctor to report that she was unworthy of becoming the empress. “Why are you doing this to me?” she hissed at him. “Are you a cat who toys with his prey merely because he can?”

He arched a brow at her. “See?” he said to the physician. “Hot-tempered with an eagle’s sharp beak for a mouth.”

Turning her back on the master, she knelt before the physician. “Please, please, you must examine me. Do not let his words sway you. It is your duty to do your task as honestly as you can.”

Her last words were a mistake. The physician drew herself up to her fullest height. “Do not seek to lecture me on my duties, girl. I know what I must do.”

“Yes,” interrupted the master with a lazy drawl, “but you need not do it on an empty stomach. Why not go now and find some excellent dumplings? Enjoy them while she meditates on the sharpness of her tongue.”

The woman drew her brows together. “And then I am to return and examine her?”

The Master bowed. “Of course.”

Ji Yue gasped. “But that would leave me alone with him!”

The doctor nodded. “At least you’re not stupid.”

Panic rose in her chest. She could not be alone with this man. He was a playboy, the emperor’s intimate friend and master of the festival. No one would believe her if she said he raped her. “Please, please, Doctor. You must examine me now!”

But the doctor simply shook her head. “Won’t do any good. You’re all dried up right now.” She glanced at the master. “Be smart, girl, and you might come out ahead.” Her gaze steadied on Ji Yue. “Let him help the fertility flow. If you grow moist, my exam will be favorable.”

Tears slipped down Ji Yue’s cheeks. “He will rape me,” she whispered.

“No,” the doctor said with a surprisingly gentle voice. “No, he will not. I have known him since he was a little boy. Sun Bo Tao will threaten and tease, he will push well beyond the bounds of propriety, but he is an honorable man. Besides,” she added with a glare at Bo Tao, “he knows that if he hurts you, I will see to it that the emperor finds out. No man can play with the virgins and be spared. Not even Bo Tao, who has no status here except for the emperor’s whim.”

Ji Yue looked up, feeling hope and despair clash in her heart. As much as she might pray that Bo Tao was honorable—was simply just teasing her for some sick reason of his own—she did not believe she was that lucky. Or that any man could really be so honorable. So she grabbed the woman’s hands and begged, “Please, don’t go.”

“She has no choice,” Bo Tao said, his voice cold. “I am the master of the festival. She cannot disobey me.” Then he stepped around and opened the door. “Go and eat something, Doctor.”

The woman slowly disentangled herself from Ji Yue. “I eat very quickly,” she said. Then with a last apologetic shrug, she left. The master followed a step behind, firmly shutting the door behind her.

Ji Yue was alone with her nemesis.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “You are different.”

She looked away. She knew she was different. And in China, different was very bad. “I’m smart,” she countered. “And strong. I will make a good empress.”

He touched her cheek, lifting her pointy chin with a firm stroke. “I begin to think you are right. Yi Zhen could do worse than marry you.” Then he smiled. “Don’t be afraid; I will not hurt you.”

“Of course you will!” she shot back. “Why else would you maneuver me this way? Why else would we be alone together!”

“I did not hurt you in the palanquin,” he said.

“You did not have time! I kicked you out.”

He grimaced. “Yes, I know. My ribs still hurt.”

She stared at him in confusion. He blocked the door, but he made no move to rape her. Up until now, he had merely been a man who mentally tortured her, a man who blocked her path to the emperor’s bed. But for the first time, she actually looked closely at his face. She expected that his features would be soft and lax with the indolence of a courtier, but what she saw instead was a hardened jaw and clear eyes in an unsmiling face. This man might be many things, but he was not soft. And that thought surprised her almost as much as it excited her. “What do you want of me?” she asked.

He smiled, and this time there was no mockery in his expression. “To test you, Chen Ji Yue. To find out what kind of woman you are. Do you wish to become empress?”

She nodded. “You know I do.”

“Then what will you do? As the doctor said, you will not pass this test today. You are hot-tempered. Your fertility is already dried up.”

“You don’t know that!”

He stepped forward. “I do. But if you like, you can check for yourself. Think of the place between your thighs. Is it wet and supple?”

Ji Yue gasped, her thoughts going straight to that part of her body. And then she remembered what she had done to keep her private area sweet and supple. She swallowed, trying to act casual, but fear ate at her reason. “Why…why would you ask about that place?”

His eyes narrowed. She wanted to look away, but she could not when he stared at her so intently. “You have done something,” he said. “Something that no one else knows about.” His brows drew together in anger. “Chen JiYue! Are you a virgin?”

“Of course!” she cried. “Of course I am! I have done nothing but—” She swallowed, cursing her errant tongue. What was it about this man that made her stupid with her words?

“But what?” he demanded.

“It is nothing,” she whispered. “Just a cream to keep the skin moist and the petals blossoming.”

His eyebrows shot up. “And did you apply this cream today?” he asked. “Despite my express warning against wearing cosmetics?”

“It is not a cosmetic! It is fruit and herbs. It’s not a paint at all. More like food for…for women.” She looked at him in misery. Her face burned with shame. “Please help me,” she whispered. “The doctor is sure to notice.”

“My, my,” he drawled. “You do have a problem.” He did not sound angry, merely pensive. She did not dare hope that he would help her for no compensation, but she was desperate.

“Bring me a bucket with water. I…I have jewelry. I can pay.”

He reared back in anger. “Do not seek to bribe me, girl!”

“Then what do you want?”

He smiled slowly, but his eyes remained grave. “I cannot bring you water. It would be noticed and even I cannot break the rules.”

She took a step forward. “You are breaking the rules now by being alone with me. Say that someone grew ill, that you wish to clean up the mess.”

“I would send a eunuch for that.”

She grimaced, her ideas—and her time—running out. “What is the punishment for wearing cosmetics?”

He sighed. “You have already seen the punishment. The eunuchs are not kind when they bathe you. And they will be especially cruel where you are most dirty.”

She winced. “Why do you allow such men here?”

He folded his arms. “I do not allow anything. In fact, I have counseled Yi Zhen against it, but we always meet with the same answer.”

“What is that?”

“That eunuchs have been a way of life in the Forbidden City long before the Manchu came and will continue long after we are gone.”

She looked away, cursing herself for her vanity this morning and wondering if she had thrown away her chances with that one simple act. “I meant no harm. It is just a sweetening cream.” Then she swallowed and forced herself to beg. “Help me please. What should I do?”

He waited while she twisted her fingers together in anxiety. His look was pensive, but his eyes seemed to burn. “There is a way, you know, to drown out the scent of your…your fruit and herbs. A way that the doctor will never notice and will boost your attractiveness as an imperial consort.”

She bit her lower lip, barely daring to hope. Could he truly wish to help her? Of course not, and yet what choice did she have? “More creams?” she asked.

He smiled, and she was momentarily struck silent by the beauty in his face. Normally he scowled at the women who plagued him, but for this moment he looked different. Not gentle so much as less fierce. More…seductive. And again she was startled by how appealing that made him.

“I will not surrender my virginity!” she stated fiercely. “I will fight you if you try!”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said dryly. “No, I refer to the stages before surrender.”

She frowned, extraordinarily suspicious but also a little intrigued. Though her mother had explained lust in great detail, most especially what it could drive a man to do, she had never spoken about the steps of love or of the act itself. “What stages?”

“You wish to know?” he asked.

“I wish to become an empress,” she snapped.

“Then allow me to touch you and your fertility will never be in question.”

“No touching!” she cried as she backed away.

“I cannot do it any other way,” he responded. “You need only unbutton your blouse. I will touch your breasts.”

She shook her head, her heart beating so loud it seemed to echo in her mind.

“You will show me your breasts, anyway, as part of the examination.”

“But I will lose my virginity!”

He stared hard at her. “Do you truly not know how it is done?”

She flushed so hot her ears burned. “I have seen dogs. I…I know the essence, but a touch one place will lead to more. And you are stronger than I.”

“Then take this.” He handed her his empty plate. “If I touch more than you wish, then you may break it on my head. Do it hard enough and I will not be touching anything again for a very long time.”

She hesitated a moment, then grabbed the plate from him. Whatever she decided, she would feel better with a weapon in her hand.

“Decide quickly. The doctor will be back soon.”

That brought a return of her fears and a swift decision. With a deep breath, she began unbuttoning the clasps at her neck and then down along her side. All too soon, her blouse was pushed away, the silk dropping uselessly to the floor. Below it, her diamond-shaped undergarment of soft cotton was already stained from perspiration. The ties pulled at her neck and back, but her entire front remained covered by the too-thin fabric.

“Take it all off,” he said, his voice low and thick.

She lifted her chin and stared at him. She had to do this, she reminded herself. And truthfully, a kind of madness had gripped her. She wanted to do this. She wanted to see his face when her flesh was bared to his eyes. So while one hand still gripped the plate, the other resolutely untied her undergarment. And inside her, the blood seemed to beat faster, wilder, with a daring she found as exciting as the man who stood before her.

“Not flat plates, after all,” he murmured. His face was no longer pinched, but his eyes still held that intensity she both feared and enjoyed. “Your breasts are bells arching outward.” He spoke as if to himself while one hand lifted to touch her. “They say that women with bells mature young and have very high desires.” His hand stopped, and his gaze leaped to hers. “I am going to touch you now. Do not be afraid.”

She wasn’t. Looking in his eyes, she didn’t see anger or vengeance. She wondered for a moment if this was the look of lust, but he did not have the signs that her mother had told her of. His eyes did not pinch nor did his mouth pull back like a dog in heat. If anything, he had the look of reverence.

“Your skin is flawless,” he said. “It would glow in candlelight.”

He touched her. With his long elegant fingers, he stroked the side of one breast and fire trailed in his wake. She gasped at the feel, and he smiled. Then he curved his hand around the outside before brushing his thumb across her peaked nipple.

She trembled. It started in her belly, but it traveled outward, making her breath stutter and her heart race. He moved closer, his hand still caressing her breast.

“What…what are you doing?” she gasped, though the answer was perfectly obvious.

“You are safe. Keep the plate handy.”

She had forgotten it. With shaking hands, she gripped the fine porcelain tight, but she didn’t do anything with it. He moved around behind her, his one hand still stroking. Her breast felt hot and large in his hand, and her back tingled with awareness of him. And then, every so often, he would pinch the nipple and she would shudder at the flash of sensation that burst through her thoughts. Her whole body now beat with a wildness and a hunger she’d never felt before.

His free hand slipped around her rib cage to lift her other breast. He leaned against her back, pressing her forward so that her legs pushed against the physician’s table. She was pinned between him and the table while his breath brushed hot across her cheek. She felt surrounded by him, completely and totally within his power.

“Do you know what leads to fertility?” he whispered into her ear.

She shook her head. It was hard to think with his hands rolling over her breasts.

“Passion, Chen Ji Yue. A passionate woman is a fertile woman.” He pinched her nipples—both at once—and she cried out in her surprise. “What you feel right now is passion, and it is what all these physicians, eunuchs and courtiers are looking for.”

“What of the emperor?” she gasped. “Does he look for this as well?”

“Him most of all,” he said into her neck. Then she felt his tongue, hot and wet as he stroked the skin behind her ear.

“Oh!” she gasped.

“Lean forward,” he murmured.

She did because she liked what he was doing. The feel of his tongue overwhelmed her senses, and his hands had not stopped moving in mesmerizing caresses all over her breasts.

“You smell sweet, Ji Yue. I think your cream has grown stronger.”

She tensed. “But it can’t! You said—”

“Let me see if I can wipe some away.”

He pressed her forward even farther and one of his hands abandoned her breast to slip down to her knee. With quick movements, he pulled her skirt up to her waist.

“No…” she murmured, but he must not have heard her.

“Widen your legs for me, Ji Yue,” he said. “I must have access to wipe the cream away.”

She did not intend to move, but her legs were so weak. He pinched her nipple again, and as she arched in reaction, his leg slipped between hers. And then his hand was where no man’s hand had ever been.

“There is so much cream here!” he said as he began to stroke her.

Oh, the feeling was amazing. She could barely breathe for the wonder of it. It was as if he coaxed a flame hotter and brighter with every touch. The flame burned through her belly, sending sensation up her spine. Then he widened his hand and burrowed deep with his fingers while she…she…

She whipped around and slammed the plate against his head. It took all her strength and she collapsed sideways after the impact. But that gave her the space she needed to shove him away. “You said you would only touch my breasts!” she accused.

He had fallen a step backward, but he was still standing. She hadn’t hit him hard enough, she supposed, and now she had a new problem. What would he do to explain the welt he sported on his temple?

“You told me I could hit you,” she said, struggling to put force into her voice. But she didn’t have the breath, and her heart was beating so fast! “You told me to do that if you touched me somewhere else.”

He lifted his head and she saw that she had cut him, too. Blood dripped down the side of his head and his eyes blazed with fury.

“You told me I should hit you!” she cried again. She had already pulled down her skirt, and now she tried to retie her undergarment one-handed. Her other hand gripped the largest shard of plate that she could reach. “You told me—”

“So I did,” he said. He rubbed his hand over his temple then grimaced when his palm came away glistening with blood. “Cover up. The doctor will be here soon.”