back,” he barked.
I quickly stepped aside. Something poked my leg—the sword, its hilt inlaid with jade and gold. It was strange he would keep a sword in his bedchamber, but perhaps he wished me to give it to him. I stooped to pick it up.
“Never, ever touch my sword.” His voice was louder, and the sword slid aside, out of my reach.
I straightened. It was so humiliating. There I was, naked, standing, trying to please him. But he shouted at me as if I were nobody.
“Put these on.” A pair of leather gloves dropped at my feet.
I picked them up, not knowing what to do at first. Then I understood. Of course. I must not touch his skin directly.
He wiggled impatiently, his finger pointing at his right shoulder. “Here!”
Suddenly, everything was clear to me. He did not wish me to strip, nor did he desire me to pleasure him. He only needed my fingers to scratch his back.
I tapped the skin beneath his shoulder blades. He let out a loud grunt. “Harder!”
I increased my pressure.
“Harder!”
I scratched with all the strength I could muster. He sighed in relief, and then he lifted his feet. “Foot bath.”
I searched for containers. There were two basins filled with water near the brazier. I wanted to cover myself first and then fetch the water, but I was afraid to keep him waiting. So I went to one basin, carried it above my chest, and left it before him at the stool.
He thrust his feet into the water. They made squeaky noises as he rubbed, and then he leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling. For a moment he seemed to be soaked in a stream of thoughts, and then he closed his eyes. Soon, soft snores rose into the air.
A strand of damp hair fell over my eyes. I tucked it behind my ear. It seemed ironic to me that the Emperor, who conquered the vast land for the kingdom, would sleep on a stool.
I found the cover and tied it around me. I was glad he was asleep so I could study him. He had long, curled whiskers, which shook gently as he breathed. His skin was dark, leathery, and wrinkled, and there were some dark specks around his cheekbones, like smeared flies. He did not have much hair on his head, and a deep scar snaked from his neck to his chest where his underrobe failed to cover. Still, judging from his square face and straight nose, I could tell he had been handsome once, and with his broad shoulders, he must have been a fierce figure on the battlefield, a frightening presence when he commanded an attack.
He was a powerful ruler, the first emperor who had conquered the troublesome Eastern Turks, forcing their neighbors, the Western Turks, to flee to the farthest northern border, and expanded the edge of our kingdom to the snowy mountains near Tarim Basin. He was also known as a cunning strategist. When he faced the undefeated elephant armies of the Champa kingdoms in the south, he had trapped them in pits and shot the elephants with crossbows, causing them to trample their own soldiers in fear.
But he was old now, so withered and unattractive. If I passed him on a street, I would not look at him twice. And to want to please him? Forget about it. But he was the Emperor, whose words could change my family’s fate. I must do whatever I could to make him love me.
Suddenly, he gazed at me, his eyes bright like a wolf’s eyes sparkling in the darkness.
My knees grew weak. He could order my death for staring at him.
But his eyes rolled and then snapped shut, and as though he had not noticed me, his head lolled to one side and his snores filled up the chamber again.
Perhaps the Emperor was testing me. Or perhaps he was indeed sleeping? For a long time, I stood rigidly, not daring to move. But he did not wake again.
Flames burst in the brazier and danced in the air. The fire cast my shadow on the wall scroll and covered the couplets. Slowly, I walked to a mat near the brazier and sat down, my head resting on my knees.
Something was wrong.
Yes, I had been late for the summons. But where were the
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