Read Online Imperial Woman by Pearl S. Buck - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pearl S. Buck
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change what she is born, she rose.
“Cousin, my dear,” she said, in her most coaxing voice, “I will go away now so that you can be bathed and dressed and then you must eat some food, something you like. And I will send for our kinsman and you must not refuse to see him if he comes, for it will be because I have so decided for your sake. And if there is gossip, then I will say that it is I who bade him come.”
She put her hand so lightly on Yehonala’s head, still bent on her knees, that it felt no heavier there than a leaf, and then she went away.
When she was gone Yehonala flung herself back upon her pillows and lay stone still, her eyes open and staring into the canopy above her. A fantasy wove itself in her mind, a dream, a plan, a plot, possible only if Sakota protected her, Sakota who was the Imperial Consort, whom no one could accuse.
When her serving woman peered in, afraid to speak or call, Yehonala turned her head.
“I will have my bath now,” she said. “And I will put on something new—say, my green robe, the apple green. And then I will eat.”
“Yes, yes, my queen, my pet,” the woman said, well pleased. She let the curtains fall and Yehonala heard her feet trotting down the corridors, hastening to obey.
Sometime in the afternoon of that day, two hours before the curfew fell when all men must leave the Emperor’s city, Yehonala heard the footstep for which she waited. She had spent the day alone in her own rooms after Sakota left her, forbidding the entrance of anyone. Only her serving woman sat outside the door. To her Yehonala said honestly:
“I am in sore trouble. My cousin, the Consort, knows my woe. She has commanded our kinsman to come to me, to hear me and to carry my trouble to my guardian uncle. While he is here, you are to stay by the door. You are not to enter, nor let anyone so much as peer into my court. You understand that it is by the Consort’s command that he comes.”
“Lady, I do understand,” the woman said.
Thus the hours had passed, she at the door and Yehonala inside the closed door behind the dropped curtain. She sat idle in body but her mind was exceedingly busy and her heart was in turmoil. Could she prevail upon Jung Lu to foresake his rectitude? It was her will so to prevail.
He came at last, two hours before the curfew. She heard his footsteps, the firm pace measured to his height. She heard his voice inquiring whether Yehonala slept and her woman’s reply that she waited for him.
She heard the door open and close, and she saw his hand, that large smooth hand she knew so well, lay hold upon the inner curtain and hesitate. She sat rigid in her chair of carved black wood, waiting and motionless. Then he put the curtain aside and stood there looking at her, and she looked at him. Her heart leaped in her breast, a thing alive and separate from her, and tears welled to her eyes and her mouth began to quiver.
Whatever she could do, this that she did shook all his will. He had seen her weep in pain and he had heard her sob with rage, but he had never seen her sit motionless and weep without a sound, helplessly, as though her very life were broken.
He gave a great groan and his arms went out to her and he strode across the floor. And she, seeing only those outstretched arms, rose blindly from her chair and ran to him and felt them enclose her fast. Thus locked together, in silence and in fearful ecstasy they stood, how long, neither knew. Cheek to cheek they stood, until their lips met by instinct. Then he tore his mouth away.
“You know you cannot leave this place,” he groaned. “You must find your freedom here within these walls, for there is no other freedom for you now.”
She listened, hearing his voice from afar, knowing only that within his arms she held him.
“The higher you rise,” he told her, “the greater will your freedom be. Rise high, my love—the power is yours. Only an Empress can command.”
“But will you love me?” she asked,
“Cousin, my dear,” she said, in her most coaxing voice, “I will go away now so that you can be bathed and dressed and then you must eat some food, something you like. And I will send for our kinsman and you must not refuse to see him if he comes, for it will be because I have so decided for your sake. And if there is gossip, then I will say that it is I who bade him come.”
She put her hand so lightly on Yehonala’s head, still bent on her knees, that it felt no heavier there than a leaf, and then she went away.
When she was gone Yehonala flung herself back upon her pillows and lay stone still, her eyes open and staring into the canopy above her. A fantasy wove itself in her mind, a dream, a plan, a plot, possible only if Sakota protected her, Sakota who was the Imperial Consort, whom no one could accuse.
When her serving woman peered in, afraid to speak or call, Yehonala turned her head.
“I will have my bath now,” she said. “And I will put on something new—say, my green robe, the apple green. And then I will eat.”
“Yes, yes, my queen, my pet,” the woman said, well pleased. She let the curtains fall and Yehonala heard her feet trotting down the corridors, hastening to obey.
Sometime in the afternoon of that day, two hours before the curfew fell when all men must leave the Emperor’s city, Yehonala heard the footstep for which she waited. She had spent the day alone in her own rooms after Sakota left her, forbidding the entrance of anyone. Only her serving woman sat outside the door. To her Yehonala said honestly:
“I am in sore trouble. My cousin, the Consort, knows my woe. She has commanded our kinsman to come to me, to hear me and to carry my trouble to my guardian uncle. While he is here, you are to stay by the door. You are not to enter, nor let anyone so much as peer into my court. You understand that it is by the Consort’s command that he comes.”
“Lady, I do understand,” the woman said.
Thus the hours had passed, she at the door and Yehonala inside the closed door behind the dropped curtain. She sat idle in body but her mind was exceedingly busy and her heart was in turmoil. Could she prevail upon Jung Lu to foresake his rectitude? It was her will so to prevail.
He came at last, two hours before the curfew. She heard his footsteps, the firm pace measured to his height. She heard his voice inquiring whether Yehonala slept and her woman’s reply that she waited for him.
She heard the door open and close, and she saw his hand, that large smooth hand she knew so well, lay hold upon the inner curtain and hesitate. She sat rigid in her chair of carved black wood, waiting and motionless. Then he put the curtain aside and stood there looking at her, and she looked at him. Her heart leaped in her breast, a thing alive and separate from her, and tears welled to her eyes and her mouth began to quiver.
Whatever she could do, this that she did shook all his will. He had seen her weep in pain and he had heard her sob with rage, but he had never seen her sit motionless and weep without a sound, helplessly, as though her very life were broken.
He gave a great groan and his arms went out to her and he strode across the floor. And she, seeing only those outstretched arms, rose blindly from her chair and ran to him and felt them enclose her fast. Thus locked together, in silence and in fearful ecstasy they stood, how long, neither knew. Cheek to cheek they stood, until their lips met by instinct. Then he tore his mouth away.
“You know you cannot leave this place,” he groaned. “You must find your freedom here within these walls, for there is no other freedom for you now.”
She listened, hearing his voice from afar, knowing only that within his arms she held him.
“The higher you rise,” he told her, “the greater will your freedom be. Rise high, my love—the power is yours. Only an Empress can command.”
“But will you love me?” she asked,
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