“No, we haven’t.” Jian placed a hand on his chest. “My name is Wu Jian.”
Her gaze cut over to Biyu, and then back at him. “You’re to marry Princess Biyu, correct?”
“Um, yes …”
It was the first time Biyu had seen the man show respect to another woman—not that she knew him that well, anyway. But, she supposed, anyone with half a mind would be careful around the only living relative of Drakkon Muyang. She was a part of his inner circle, after all, and he was known to care for her. Jian would be a fool to not respect her.
“Hm.” Li-ling’s warmth seemed to subside as she studied the young man. Whatever she saw, she didn’t seem impressed, and Jian seemed to notice by the way his jaw clenched. “I see. Congratulations, Wu Jian.”
Even Biyu could tell that she didn’t entirely mean it. But it was strange. Wu Jian was a noble and Zihao was a simple soldier—why did Li-ling know Zihao and not Jian? Was he, perhaps,more important than his modest rank insinuated? Or perhaps Biyu was looking into the matter too deeply.
Li-ling beamed at them all from ear to ear, waving her hands as she spoke, “I hate to break you all up, but I’d love to borrow the princesses in my room for a little while? I hope none of you mind? We have womanly activities to do, you see. Well … that actually sounds a bit weird. I don’t mean the strange kind of activities. I mean, marriage sorts of conversations to have.”
Nikator bit his bottom lip and now that Biyu knew him better than before, she could read his body language better—he was trying not to laugh. It was obvious to her now, but months ago she would have thought he was about to snap a rude remark. She couldn’t help the twitching of her own lips.
“I’m blabbering, aren’t I?” She laughed and held her hands out to Biyu and Liqin. “Come, ladies, we have talks to have! If the men aren’t too wounded and lonely with me taking you two, then they aren’t worth keeping around.” She winked at the men as she pulled the two sisters into the hallway.
Biyu looked over her shoulder at the three men. Nikator had a surprised expression on his face, Zihao appeared unreadable but unbothered, and Jian … Jian was glaring at them.
He probably wanted to spend time with Biyu. She quickly glanced away. What rotten intentions did he have with her?
“You’re going to be married next week,” Li-ling said as she practically skipped down the hallway. She was slender and tall, her warm and inviting personality clashing with her warrior features—the air around her, the callouses, and the scars on her rough hands told Biyu she held powerful magic. “Are you excited?”
Liqin blinked rapidly at that question; Biyu could see her sister’s true feelings melting away and a mask shifting in place. She was always good at being the perfect princess with herpoised beauty, her sharp tongue, and the way she knew exactly what to say and when to say it.
“Yes, naturally.” She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m grateful His Majesty has given Biyu and I the opportunity of freedom through marriage. It’s most kind of him.”
Li-ling watched her carefully, but didn’t say anything on the matter. When they reached her bedchambers, the woman ushered them inside and had them sit on one of the various couches in her sitting area. Biyu shifted in her cushioned seat; sunlight filtered through the pale blue window screens, filling the room with a cooling light. Li-ling called for some tea and snacks, and soon, the tea table was full of an assortment of food.
The silver-haired woman leaned back in her seat, a cup of tea warming her hand, as she waved to the rest of the snacks—dumplings, rice cakes, nuts, and dried fruits. “Have your fill, please.”
“Thank you.” Liqin took one of the cups and held it, but she made no move to drink it. Biyu could imagine her sister didn’t have much of an appetite.
Biyu chose to snack on a sesame ball filled with sweet, sticky red bean paste. It was her favorite snack of all time; she could eat a whole plate of them if she wasn’t careful. Her attention slid over to the bookshelves lining the far wall; spines of ancient tomes lined the bottom shelves, while the top ones were filled with old scrolls, neatly stacked atop each other.
“His Majesty actually asked me to talk to you both,” Li-ling said slowly, taking a sip of her tea and stretching the silence. Even her lashes were white. She batted them, as if waiting for either to speak.
Apprehension coiled in Biyu’s stomach; she hated how nervous she became whenever the emperor was mentioned or involved.
Li-ling lowered her cup. For a brief moment, her bubbly persona vanished, like a curtain pulling back to show a hint of grief. “I was married before—” Her voice cracked and she peered off at the screened windows. Her lips thinned down and her eyes became glassy, like she was fighting the urge to cry. She blinked rapidly and smiled again. “Well, I’m a widow, now, I’m sure you’ve heard …”
Biyu had heard Li-ling’s husband had been a fearsome warrior for His Majesty; he’d had a brutal moniker, last she had heard, but she couldn’t remember it. All she knew for certain was that he’d been slain during in the war for the throne. A pang shot through Biyu’s chest and she quickly averted her gaze; it felt wrong to stare at another’s sorrow.
“I’m very sorry to hear about your loss,” Liqin murmured, setting her cup aside. She laced her hands together and mimicked Li-ling’s sadness. “I heard he was a powerful force to be reckoned with.”
Biyu fiddled with her sleeve. “I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Li-ling.”
Li-ling nodded, blinking away the tears. “Thank you, both of you; you two are too sweet. But I didn’t come here to talk about sad topics! I actually wanted to give you a talk about … well, marriage …”
An awkward silence fell between the three of them. Biyu exchanged uncertain looks with Liqin, and then Li-ling, who shifted in her seat like she wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Well.” Li-ling waved at her outfit. “When you marry, there are …activitiesthat you and your husband partake in.”
Biyu’s eyes widened in mortification. Did … did Li-ling think that Liqin and Biyu didn’t know anything about sex? Liqin seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her face flushed with embarrassment; it must have been harder for her to hear, since she would be wedded in a week.
Although it was slightly amusing to imagine that Drakkon Muyang assumed they didn’t know about the matter, it was also … awkward.
They knew about sex.
