Chapter Thirty-One
IN FENG’S covetous room, music played. No tune that Xian had ever danced to, but to which he was familiar, thanks to Lady Tian’s love of all things found in other lands.
Here were trumpets and the high whine of the violin; classical music created by grand assemblies of musicians with their foreign instruments.
He stood behind the divider, nerves jangling with unhappy anticipation.
The attendant stepped around to join him; the gown held before her.
‘Your highness,’ she whispered beneath the music.
‘I will turn my back and give as good instruction as I can without disrupting your privacy. But there is a boning at the bodice you might not be accustomed to, and I’ll need to do the laces at the back, but I shall keep my eyes closed, I promise you. ’
‘Are you yet done?’ The mandarin called. He’d barely given them a moment.
‘Almost, your lordship. The gown is complicated, and I don’t wish to hurry and risk a tear,’ she called.
Her stern face morphed with the tilt of a gentle smile. She nodded at Xian and turned her back. Not because she feared a ridiculous curse, but because she wished to offer him privacy.
The unexpected kindness buoyed him. Xian lifted his changsan robe over his head, practised in not losing his veil, and stood clad only in his drawers; loose, thin cotton pants that stopped above his knees for ease of movement.
Though he was not naked, he was horribly laid bare; the mass of scars on his body uncovered.
He wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘I’m ready.
The woman was true to her word, her eyes closed as she turned and crouched to settle the gown on the floor where he could step into it. She did so deftly, obviously no stranger to handling such volume.
‘There we go, let me know when you’re in.’
Xian stepped into the billow of luxurious fabric, his arms still crossed, trembling all the more. He’d always attended to his own dressing in Kunming, only calling on Daiyu for the most complicated of robes.
‘Alright. You may draw it up.’
Fabric hushed, the gold chains tinkling lost beneath the rise of violins playing beyond the divider. Xian touched the stiffness of the middle section and was reminded of the gown Sir William had floundered about in.
‘His lordship admires the styles of the French,’ the attendant said, lifting the gown so Xian could slip his arms into the sleeves.
‘The French ladies, yes,’ Xian muttered, uncertain if the mandarin intentionally mocked him with this dress. ‘But their men do not wear such dresses as this, I’m sure.’
‘His lordship takes no account of such things. His tastes are entirely his own,’ the attendant said. ‘And I must humbly say, your highness, that a figure so fine as yours would do any piece of cloth an honour.’
Xian startled at her candour. ‘You are being very kind to me.’ He could not decide whether to trust it, though the restlessness around his bones had calmed since he’d stepped behind the divider.
‘As you have been nothing but kind to those of us who serve you here, your highness. It has not gone unnoticed.’
The gown settled on Xian’s shoulders, the fabric a caress against his skin, but the fit was tight, pressing at his chest. At least the high neckline and the fitted sleeves that lay beneath the outer draping layers would keep his scars hidden.
‘I have acknowledged their work, that is all.’
‘And yet, so many who enjoy the mandarin’s hospitality only acknowledge when errors are made.’ She stood behind him, working at the laces to tighten the structured bodice. ‘Now, be sure to tell me if this is too tight.’
The music stopped short.
‘Come on now,’ Mandarin Feng called into the silence. ‘I promised an English nobleman I’d meet him down at the port and am already a half hour late. It is not good business to keep a wealthy man like Sir William Black waiting.’
Xian jerked as the attendant pulled vigorously at a lace. ‘Sir William is not staying for the display tonight?’
A chuckle came from the room; snide and unpleasant. ‘Has he enamoured you as much as the rest of my court, your highness? I shall have to keep you safe from his considerable charms if we are to keep you virtuous.’
‘I am not enamoured, my lord.’
‘Then you must be as immune to desire as I’ve been told.
’ His laughter came again, scattering gooseflesh across Xian’s skin.
‘Even I might consider bedding the gentleman, he’s near enough to womanly for my tastes.
But do not worry yourself, your highness.
Sir William expressed an interest in seeing the fireworks being assembled for tonight.
He is interested in importing fireworks to his estates in England. ’
Xian opened his mouth to reply, only to glance down, and feel the word slide away.
The gold overlay — patterned with curling ferns and dragonflies — was splendid, but beneath that the multitude of white layers were only a suggestion of material; fine as the veil that covered his face, but far more see-through.
The fabric of his drawers was evident, as was the paleness of his legs.
‘How shall I wear underclothes, with the way this is?’ he said, aghast.
Another lace was pulled, his waist cinched in.‘You can’t, I’m afraid, your highness.’
‘Am I to dance near naked?’ he demanded. ‘I will not.’
There was a pause in the lacing. ‘There is a short panel there, perhaps you cannot see it? My mistress convinced his lordship it was necessary. She’s certain your…your most private area shall not be seen.’
Xian rushed his hands through the skirt, searching for the panel she spoke of.
He found it, a sheaf of silk at the front only, and it was little wonder it took some searching for it was barely two hand spans wide.
He thanked the gods he was not generously endowed, or else his most private parts certainly would be seen.
‘The mandarin goes too far with this.’ His cheeks scorched with heat; the vibration under his skin seeped into his bones.
‘I will speak with my mistress and see what else can be done.’ Her whispers were more urgent now. ‘But please, your highness, we must finish this quickly. His lordship’s patience grows thin.’
He recognised the hint of panic in her voice; he’d heard it, in others and himself, when tasks set by the marchioness were late in being done.
‘Very well. Will you tell me your name?’
‘Kai-Ming, your highness.’
‘Thank you Kai-Ming, I will be very grateful for all your mistress can do.’
At last, she declared the tightening done. The rigid panels held his waist to an unpleasant narrowness, and a breath could not be taken in full. Xian scratched at the bodice.
‘I don’t think I can wear this.’
Kai-Ming shifted to face him, her sharp features bunched with worry.
‘You can, your highness. You’ve faced far worse than this dress, I’m sorry to say it.
But you survived it all.’ Her eyes pleaded with him; and perhaps she did so selfishly, fearing the mandarin’s anger being directed at her if Xian refused to wear the gown. But he could not blame her for that.
‘Come on now. I’ll not wait any longer,’ Mandarin Feng called.
Xian exhaled. ‘I am ready, your lordship.’
He stepped out from behind the divider, the feather-light panels that made up the skirt moving all too easily to part around his legs. He remained where he was, unwilling to display himself at the centre of the room.
Mandarin Feng’s eyes widened, and Xian looked away before he could read his expression too deeply.
‘Magnificent. There shall not be a single eye in the room that is not upon you, your highness.’ He clapped his hands, the sound a strike of the anvil against the sword. ‘They shall all be left speechless. Is this not the most sublime gown you’ve ever worn, Prince Xian?’
He felt rather than saw Kai-Ming tense. His own body was little different, his joints stiff with panic, his heart marking just one beat;
Run. Run. Run.
Xian nodded, the underside of his chin rubbing at the high neckline. ‘It is like nothing I’ve ever known.’
Or would know again.
‘Good boy. Sensible boy. Now I must go. You will take the evening meal in your room, and rest. The evening will be long for us all, especially those of us who shall dance.’ His smile was hollow.
‘Your absence will only make our guests more eager for your performance.’ He flicked his hand towards Kai-Ming.
‘See his highness is tended to, anything he needs to prepare himself for this evening is to be taken to him at once.’
‘Yes, your lordship. I will need to return the gown to the seamstress.’ She cowered beneath his haughty glare but kept on. ‘A few minor adjustments that is all…to be expected with a first fitting.’
‘Fine. Do what you must. When he is dressed ensure his hair is left loose, it will please the Westerners who see such freedom so rarely in their own rigid style.’ Little different, Xian thought, to the Middle Kingdom’s own unappealing queues, mandated for men, or the structured uplifted weaves and dian zi for women.
‘Put jewels in the strands so they are not left to wonder at Manhao’s prosperity.
’ He gave Xian another appraisal, his gaze drifting low.
‘You will not wear those drawers of course. But aside from that, you are pleasing, very pleasing. Will the shoes you speak of do the gown justice?’
‘My lord.’ Xian bowed his head, resentment cool and fine in his veins. ‘They will. Master Song’s work will bring you as much renown as this gown, I’m certain.’
Feng paused at the doorway, observing Xian with vain satisfaction. ‘Let us hope so, your highness. It may encourage me to rescue him from the fate Captain Duan seems to believe he deserves.’