The Concubine (8 page)

She nodded. That was why the fighting was so vicious in the virgins’ quarters. The hierarchy had yet to be established.

“That woman lying out on the floor is Tai Lai, the head of this harem. She has ordered the others to pleasure her.”

Ji Yue blinked, leaning forward on her knees to see better. The woman on the ground seemed to be the oldest there. She lay on her back as one girl suckled her left breast and used her other hand to manipulate the nipple of the right. The second girl crouched at the groin, using her mouth to lick and stroke there. All three were naked.

“With no men to please them, the members of the harem delight themselves. Sometimes it is this way, with each other or with willing eunuchs. Sometimes it is in ways more cruel and bloody.”

The moment of ecstasy was building inside Tai Lai. Her moans were growing louder and she began to thrash her head. The younger two intensified their efforts, holding her down when her movements became too vigorous. And then she arched her back, screaming out in her passion. Meanwhile, the other two leaned back, breathing hard themselves from their exertions.

“How long has this platform existed?” Ji Yue whispered. “She should know she is being observed.”

“She knows,” he said. “She is the one who commanded that it be built. It intensifies her pleasure to know that eunuchs watch her and mourn for what they have lost.”

Ji Yue wanted to turn away, she wanted to look at Bo Tao’s face to judge if he lied. But she could not tear her eyes from the tableau before her. Tai Lai’s recovery came quickly. Her breath returned to normal and she reached out to fondle the breasts of the nearest girl, pinching and pulling despite the younger one’s winces. Except, of course, the girl did not seem to be in great pain. Her face became flushed and her hand slipped between her thighs to touch herself.

“But that must hurt!” Ji Yue said.

“It does. But in this place, pain and sex can become twisted together.”

The girl was beginning to moan as her hand worked between her thighs. The other one—still crouched between Tai Lai’s legs—began to stand, but Tai Lai shot her an angry look.

“Again!” she commanded. “Slower this time.”

The other one nodded and bent to her work. And then there were two women moaning and thrashing while one made noisy slurps that carried through the night air.

“And this is how they entertain themselves at this hour?” Ji Yue asked. “While others watch?”

“At night and during the day sometimes. How else can they occupy their time with no children to care for and no man to ease their suffering.”

“But surely when Dao Guang was alive—”

“This is the lowest harem. He never called for any of them. All of them are still virgins, all imprisoned in the Forbidden City, unable to leave even to visit their own families. Most are not told when their parents die. Their life is reduced to this palace and these spectacles.”

She shuddered at the thought. “Surely not all do this.”

“No. Only a few. Others spend their time in petty rivalries and cruel revenges. Many have turned to religion, a few to music and poetry. But I have seen as many as a dozen in that room, including eunuchs.”

“And how many watched from here?” she asked, at last able to turn away from the sight.

His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “I feared for the tree that night, so many were perched here or had climbed into the branches.”

Ji Yue didn’t dare look into his face when she asked her next question. So she let her gaze drop to his corded neck while her fingers toyed with a rough tear in her skirt. “Have you ever joined the…the revelry in there?”

He shook his head. “I am a whole man. I would be killed were I to enter.”

She looked up to see his face. There was a kind of mischief in his eyes and she knew the truth. “You have joined them there!” she accused.

He shook his head. “Never. I swear.”

“But you have done something. You have the same look my brothers have when they have stolen tarts.”

He grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I have been on this platform with women who are not protected virgins.” He leaned forward and touched her face. His hand slipped down her cheek and then brushed across her nipple so that tingles shot through her body. Before she could do more than gasp, she felt his other hand glide up her thigh. The rips in her skirt gave him many places to touch, many places to burrow. She felt his hand curve around the top of her thigh to stroke against her curls.

“Have you ever experienced what those women do? Have you ever felt the tremors rack your body as you cry out in joy?”

She shook her head. Never had she done such things.

“You were so creamy before,” he said as his hand slid deeper between her legs. “Has seeing this made it so again? Do you even understand what I am asking?”

“No,” she breathed, though she gave no power to the word because, of course, she did understand in part. Her thighs were wet, and her womb quivered in desire. And she had thought so much of these things, even before entering the Forbidden City. She had seen dogs in copulation, heard the moans from her parents’ bedroom and even watched as servants met in secret in the back garden. So she did know some, and she wondered. She most especially wondered what it would be like to experience such a thing with him.

Behind them, the concubines’ cries were reaching fever pitch. And in the darkness of their tree bower, Ji Yue let her legs spread the tiniest bit. Then a bit further as his fingers delved deeper.

It was the knuckle of his index finger, she believed, that pushed against her first. She gasped in shock and had to grip his shoulders to steady herself. But that lifted her higher up, which gave him more room as he stroked between her petals.

“Yes,” he said, “I believe you have been using your cream again.”

Blood roared in her ears, her entire body was on fire, but her attention was centered on the place where his long finger stroked, rolling ever so slowly from front to back. Every knuckle made her shiver, and she released a high keening sigh.

“No man has ever touched you like this?” he asked. “You have never done this to yourself?”

“Never,” she gasped. If only she’d known what it felt like before. Her skin seemed to pulse and her body throbbed where he touched.

“Good,” he said as he turned his hand over so that he cupped her fully. His hand was large and intimate, and she felt as if he held the whole of her in his palm. “Then you will remember me always,” he said as he pushed a finger inside her.

She cried out in alarm. No man had ever penetrated her like that before. But it felt good. Wicked, but good. Then he withdrew, rolling his knuckles forward across a place she’d only discovered with him earlier that day.

“Move as you will,” he murmured as he leaned forward to support her upper body better. “Make whatever sounds you like. They are common here.”

She didn’t want to act so wantonly. She knew this was not the behavior of a virgin, and yet how could she stop when his hand and body urged her to move? Her thighs tightened and she rose higher on her knees. Without her willing it so, her back began to arch, and her hips thrust forward and back, forward and back over his hand.

“So hot,” he whispered. “So wet. I cannot believe you are a virgin.”

“I’ve never—” she gasped, her mind splintering.

His fingers moved without pattern. Or perhaps she could not understand the pattern, for her mind was completely absorbed in the feel of his fingers on her body, the sweet thunder of her heart and the wildness he drew from her so effortlessly. She was shaking, her buttocks lifting and lowering her as he spoke encouragement. Chest to chest, he held her while he pressed his finger inside again, then pulled it out, pressed it in and pulled it out.

“Kiss me,” he said against her ear. “Kiss me so you do not scream.”

She had no strength to do anything, but he had power enough for them both. He pressed his mouth to hers and thrust his tongue inside. He explored every part of her mouth while still touching her rhythmically below. And then it happened.

She cried out, her mouth fused to his. She clenched her muscles, then contracted them. A bliss radiated through every inch of her, every pore. He held her as the contractions roared through her blood. He kept his mouth on hers, his hand cupping her and his finger deep inside, still thrusting into her. She felt him there as her body tightened around him and her mind splintered from the wonder of it all.

Such bliss!

And when the shudders eased, when the breath returned to her body and her thighs relaxed downward, he still held her tight, supporting her as she fell back onto her heels. He pressed tiny kisses to her cheek, then down her neck. His hand remained cupped against her body, his one finger still pressed deep inside her. She did not move to close her legs. She did not have the strength.

“That was wonderful,” she whispered.

“There is more,” he said.

She blinked. She could not imagine more. Then he lifted his head, his eyes twinkling in the darkness.

“Did you not hear Tai Lai?” he asked. “She said, ‘Again. This time slower.’”

He’d meant to show Ji Yue the horrible life of an imperial concubine. Most concubines never lost their virginity, never enjoyed family or children, never had anything of meaning in their lives. They were reduced to performing sex shows for their amusement. He’d wanted to show Ji Yue an empty future so that she could choose a different path now, before it was too late. She could leave the competition of her own volition. Instead, she hadn’t heard and he’d become enraptured by the sight of her shattering in his arms. He’d forgotten everything but giving her pleasure, and so the message was lost.

What was the matter with him? Why could he not just take her and be done with it? He could have had her. More than once, most likely. Around her, his dragon organ was always ready for more. And then when he was done, he could have dropped a word to the dowager consort and Ji Yue would be expelled by morning. Easy. Unless, of course, the emperor found out. Then Bo Tao would be killed for daring to touch one of Yi Zhen’s women.

So he had held off. He had walked JiYue back to the virgins’ palace, ready to carry her again if her legs did not support her. He had kissed her once more as they hid deep in the shadows, then he’d turned away. Now he was heading to the emperor’s palace with his root so thick he had trouble walking.

He’d tried to hide his affliction, but Yi Zhen noticed immediately. The emperor had been coming down the stairs, seen his friend, then started laughing so hard he gripped his sides from the pain. Bo Tao called his emperor an ass and then stormed off to the room he used when politics kept him too late in the Forbidden City to return home. His emperor followed, though, laughing with every step. But by the time they reached Bo Tao’s bedroom, his eyes had gone deadly serious.

“They are my virgins, you know,” the emperor said.

“I know,” Bo Tao groused. “Why do you think I am like this?”

“Because you are a true friend and a loyal bannerman.”

“Go fuck a dog,” Bo Tao retorted, then he flopped down on his bed. Yi Zhen laughed again, but Bo Tao wasn’t fooled. Yi Zhen did not like sharing. Those virgins—Chen Ji Yue included—were his, and Bo Tao would be smart to remember it. Otherwise, his life would end much too young.

Eventually the emperor grew tired of laughing at him and left him to sleep. Unfortunately, his affliction prevented that. So he lay in bed wondering what to do with a mouthy virgin who made him hornier than when he’d seen his first “harem show.” She didn’t understand, damn it! Did she really want the hideous life offered to a concubine? Of course not! No sane person would want to endure the constant backbiting, petty rivalries and outright danger of living in an imperial harem.

But he had never found much logic among the female population. And though Ji Yue appeared more intelligent than most, she still hadn’t heard his message. And he didn’t know how he could make it more plain! So he thought and thought while at the same time remembering how she’d undulated over his hand. Passion made her throat flush and her breath short. And, oh, he ached for her.

But it wasn’t until the earliest streaks of light touched the sky that he remembered something else. He recalled what she’d said to the emperor to begin this whole evening’s debacle: something interesting about rebels and servants and the underlying cause of the revolt.

That intrigued him. He found it strangely perceptive, especially from a woman. Had she overheard someone say that? Maybe her father? Or had she thought of it on her own? He had to know, but he had to be subtle. It wouldn’t do to bring more attention to himself or her.

He waited another hour until the sun rose, then went about his duties while surreptitiously searching for her. He found the women’s doctor instead. He only now remembered that he had forgotten to dismiss her last night. He had summoned her for Ji Yue, but had never brought the girl in. One look at the physician forestalled his words of apology.

“You look exhausted,” he said with shock. Then dismay blossomed in his heart. “Was there some emergency last night? Something I wasn’t notified about?” Something that happened while I was in a tree making an imperial virgin spill cream over and over again?

Xie Yan glared at him. “Emergency?” she snapped. “No. Just endless complaint after stupid complaint. Was there a riot last night?”

He frowned. “They attacked Chen Ji Yue because the emperor complimented her hair pin.”

The doctor rolled her eyes. “I did not see Chen Ji Yue. But I saw every other ridiculous scratch and bump these cosseted babies could think of. They miss their mothers!” she snapped. “Girls who wish to be empress should not miss their mothers!” She kept muttering as she stomped away from him. At the last moment she shot a glare over her shoulder. “I am going to bed. Do not call for me again unless someone is in childbirth.”

He nodded. No chance of that, especially since the day would be spent discovering family histories and fortunate horoscopes. During the family history exam, the virgins would be questioned about their birth, their parentage, their parents’ births and beyond. The information was never officially recorded, but he wished to be sure that no imposter accidentally became empress. As much as possible, their answers would be verified before any girl entered the final Festival of Fertility. With that thought in mind, he headed to the place where Chen Ji Yue recounted her lineage.

It took some time to find her. A dozen other tasks had to be dispatched before he arrived, but he was there for most of her recitation. She was indeed the person she claimed to be: Chen Ji Yue, the daughter of a red bannerman, the lowest of the aristocracy. She recited correctly the list of her father’s, grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s accomplishments. She also knew the astrological fortunes of their births and deaths, their lives and that of all their sons.

When Bo Tao asked, she also recited the names of her mother, grandmothers and great-grandmothers, though the interrogator looked at Bo Tao strangely for the question. Bo Tao ignored him, stepping forward to ask more personal questions.

“Your father passed the civil service exam and now lives here in Peking as a legal advisor to the Dragon Throne?”

JiYue nodded. “He works very hard and is extremely loyal.”

Bo Tao waved aside the standard words. “Have you ever assisted him with his work?”

Her expression turned wary. “What do you mean? I am a woman. How would I ever help my father?”

“But you do, don’t you? And your mother, as well.”

“Of course not!” she said with a shudder. “I would never do such a thing!”

She was lying. He was sure of it. But he couldn’t press further with the interrogator in the room. With a slight bow of apology, he decided to make amends. “I had to ask, Chen Ji Yue. Your father’s work is most brilliant.” Another lie. Ji Yue’s father was an acceptable lawyer, but not a great one.

JiYue was still affronted. “You cast aspersions on my father’s good name! Such a suggestion could ruin him!” The fear in her tone was real, and he made another attempt at apology.

“Sometimes I ask groundless questions to see how a woman reacts. I swear to you, neither I nor Mr. Wu believes your father to be anything less than a most honest and loyal man of great capability.” He glanced at the inquisitor. “Is that not true, Mr. Wu?”

The man nodded, his eyes huge. Bo Tao made a mental note to step into a few more interrogations and ask ridiculous questions just to cover his tracks. He straightened and smiled genially at Ji Yue. “The questioning is done. Thank you, Mr. Wu,” he said to the inquisitor. “I am sure you would like a break now. Go to the kitchens and ask for some tea. I believe they are making fresh pork bao this morning.”

The man’s eyes lightened and he rose quickly. Mr. Wu was known to be a great lover of pork bao. Ji Yue rose, as well, bowing to them both as she started to withdraw. Then Bo Tao snapped his finger.

“One moment please, Chen Ji Yue. The head eunuch wished something from you. What was it?” Then he made a show of trying to remember while the interrogator grabbed his coat and departed, his long queue whipping behind him in his haste.

The moment the door shut behind him, Bo Tao’s expression turned harder. “The truth now, Ji Yue. I swear I will not harm your father in any way, but I must know the truth. You and your mother help him, do you not?”

Ji Yue flushed. “No!”

“Do not lie to me!” He did not shout the words, but released them as a low growl. He had found that to be much more effective than bellowing, and it worked on Ji Yue. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip.

“My father is a brilliant man!”

“Of course he is,” Bo Tao soothed. “But no man can do the volume of work that he accomplishes. Someone must help him.”

Ji Yue squirmed. “Sometimes my father’s hand cramps. I write as he dictates.”

“And your mother?”

She bit her lip. “The same.”

Just as he suspected. “How many of the Confucian texts have you read?”

She blinked. “It is helpful to understand the context of what he dictates.”

“How many?”

“All.”

He began listing off all the texts required in a man’s education. She had read half and was familiar with all. Then he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in thought. “If you were a man…” He let his voice trail away suggestively.

“But I’m not,” she said with some bitterness. “I am a woman.” She raised her eyes to meet his directly. “I am a woman who can help a man who lives and breathes politics. I am a woman who understands his frustrations even as she soothes his weary body. I will bear his sons and listen to his problems.” She straightened to her full height. “I will make an excellent empress.”

He swallowed down a surge of fury at her words. It wasn’t rational, and so he suppressed it, but it made his voice hard. “The emperor could not acknowledge your words last night. No woman should dare to question his rule.”

“I was trying to make an impression,” she snapped.

“You succeeded.” Then he folded his arms. “You said he must look to the underlying cause of the rebellion. The Dragon Throne needs to know—what did you mean by that? What cause do you see beneath the Taiping uprising?”

Her eyes turned pensive, but when she spoke, he heard conviction in every word. “My father is honest and so we are poor. Even for a lowly lawyer, bribes are rampant. Surely as master of these festivities, you know of what I speak.”

He grimaced. Of course he knew. As China grew, so did the layers of bureaucracy. And where there were bureaucrats, there was the tendency toward graft.

“My father values his integrity more than his wealth, but others are not so wholesome.” She shifted, then abruptly stepped forward in her earnestness. “The peasants follow two things: food and hope. Rebel leader Hong Xiu Quan offers both. Why doesn’t the government offer its people something so simple? Why do the outlying governors give so little to the people they are sworn to protect?”

He felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. She obviously understood China’s problems. “Does your father share your views?”

She snorted. “My father is a scholar. He buries himself in texts that are hundreds of years old. It has not prepared him for a country threatened by rebellions and foreign powers.”

“There have always been threats to China’s sovereignty.”

She nodded. “Did those threats have guns such as the white people carry?”

He shook his head, and his eyes grew pensive. “I saw a drawing once of an English gunboat. I do not know if the picture was real, but if it was…” He sighed. “I fear what will happen to China if the English become greedy.”

She reached out and touched his hand, hope shining in her eyes. “You do understand. You agree with me!”

He nodded. “And China cannot weaken itself by fighting more rebels from within.” The feel of her small hand on his warmed his spirit and stiffened his rod. But his mind was filled with other thoughts that miraculously directed him beyond taking her to bed. “I must go question the other girls. Since you have passed the family history exam, you must have a meal with the dowager consort.” He slanted her a hard glance. “She will pick at you, but say nothing that is not…that is not…” How to phrase what he wanted?

“Empty headed?”

“Exactly! Pretend you will follow her direction blindly.”

“She is not that stupid. She will not be fooled.”

“Probably not, but she cannot be sure. After the meal, pretend you’re ill. Claim you need to sit in my aunt’s garden to rest.” He used his finger to trace the route she would take from the garden lunch to the bower. If she could not remember it from his quick movements, then she was of no use to him.

“I understand,” she murmured. “What then?”

“I will have someone there waiting. He will take you where I want you to go.”

She nodded, but her eyes grew wary. “Do you swear on your honor that I will not be harmed by this?”

He winced. She was right to question him. Even now, his cock was large and hungry. “I swear by my honor that this will not hurt your chances to become empress.” The words were sour in his mouth, but he said them anyway. If she would only give up her quest to become empress, then he could court her without fear from the emperor. He paused, momentarily shocked by his own thoughts. Did he plan to court her? To marry her? The idea was…not unappealing.