Eona - Alison Goodman [96]
The servant clapped at the screen door and the sounds of conversation stopped. My mouth dried, parched of everything except fear. Beside me, Vida pressed her hands against her chest.
“Vida,” I whispered. She looked at me, my own panic mirrored in her eyes.
“Enter,” called a male voice.
The servant pulled back the screen, his portly body folded into a low bow.
My blood roared in my ears. Before me, men in the dark blue tunics of the cavalry lounged around a low table, its polished surface littered with long-necked decanters and platters of food. My eyes skipped across the faces, some assessing, some leering. And one, surprised—no doubt High Lord Haio. The smell of cooked meat and male sweat was overwhelming.
Forcing a smile, I bent into a walking bow and led the women into the room. I did not dare look up at the circle of men; they would see my fear as if it were a black mark upon my face. I kneeled, placed the lute before me, and sank into a kowtow, the other women following my lead. The straw matting stank of spilled rice wine and brought a rise of nausea into my throat. I clenched my jaw, fighting for poise. A Peony would not shift with nerves or spew vomit on the feet of her clients.
“Rise.”
I sat back and met the frown of High Lord Haio. His features held the echo of his two older half-brothers’—the forehead was the same as the old emperor’s, and the eyes were as cold as Sethon’s, but set closer. Haio’s mouth, however, was all his own: small and mean and currently pursed into petulance.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
For a moment my mind scrabbled—What am I called, what am I called? Then my memory found a foothold: Vida snapping at Black Teeth.
“I am Fortune Peony.” Relief brought a real smile. I bowed again.
“Well, I didn’t order a Peony,” he said. “Is this some kind of ploy to create business?”
Momo was right, thank the gods. He was a tight arse. “There seems to be have been a misunderstanding, my lord.” I motioned to Vida, kneeling at my side. “My house sister and I are meant as a gift for your brother, His Royal Majesty, the emperor. A token of goodwill from the houses of the Blossom World.”
Behind me, I felt unease ripple through the women. A soft vibration of dread.
Haio grunted. “A gift, you say?”
“Why didn’t we think of such a gift?” a red-faced man said. He and his neighbor clinked their wine bowls together. “We could do with a bit of His Majesty’s favor, general. We always get the dregs of gear and men.”
Haio looked across at his officers. “You are right in that.” He wiped his nose with a thick finger and studied me. “We could take this gift to my brother ourselves,” he said slowly. “He doesn’t need to know it came from the Blossom World.”
I stiffened and heard Vida’s sharp intake of air as the men around the table laughed.
I clasped my hands together. “My lord—”
Haio pointed at me. “And you can shut up about who sent you, or I’ll find you and cut up that pretty face so you’re no good anymore. Understand?”
I ducked my head.
“We could keep the Safflower,” Red Face said, peering at Vida. “Just give His Majesty the Peony.”
“Keep her?” Haio mused.
“My lord,” I said, fighting to keep my voice calm, “my house sister is one of His Majesty’s favorites. I would not want your lordship to unknowingly cross your revered brother. “
Haio rubbed at his jaw. “Favorite.” He picked up a wine bowl and tossed back its contents. “There’s enough flesh here for everyone.” He scowled at the men in the circle. “No need to be greedy.” He hauled himself onto his feet, swayed slightly, and pointed at Red Face and three other subordinates. “Let’s give my brother a late New Year’s gift.” Haio beckoned to Vida and me. “Come on.” He glared at the men still kneeling at the table, his finger swinging around in warning. “Don’t