Chapter 33
The Dowry Gathering was a traditional reception for ladies to add gifts to a sister’s or close friend’s dowry. But the Princess had no sisters, nor cousins, nor, truth be told, any close friends. And so, invitations had been sent to thirty-six maidens of suitable rank and age in the capital.
The palace gardens were at their loveliest in early summer. The gathering was set in the huge open pavilion over the jade lotus pond. Some early blossoms had already began unfurling their pink petals, and the sweet scent of lotus filled the pavilion.
Dozens of low tables were arranged in graceful arcs, each set with fine porcelain, fresh lychees, and delicate pastries.
Near the center of the pavilion, Princess Ming-yue sat poised on a cushioned chair, her expression unreadable.
She wore a robe layered in graduated shades of orange, from deep amber at the innermost layer to pale gold at the outermost silk.
Her black hair was coiled into an intricate crown of braids, threaded with freshwater pearls and decorated with gold filigree ornaments.
To one side, her lady-in-waiting sat at a small table, her brush poised over a ledger to record each gift as it was presented.
One by one, the invited maidens approached.
Yun-si stood near the end of the line, heart thumping so hard that she felt everyone around her must be able to hear it.
Breathe Shen Yun-si. Will she ask after Ting-zhi? Breathe. Move forward. Does she know I was there that night? Does she know my face? Breathe. There are too many of us here. She cannot—she would not—breathe.
Maiden Chen of the Minister of Rites’s family offered a set of jade hairpins, each carved with a different auspicious motif.
She curtsied deeply, her voice clear and polished as she wished the Princess a marriage as enduring as the stones themselves.
The Princess accepted the gift with a nod, her fingers lingering for just a moment on the smooth surface of the jade.
The Xu Clan’s daughter presented a bolt of thick brocade from the southern provinces, its threads shimmering like sunset on water. She stumbled slightly over her words, her cheeks flushed; but the Princess only smiled and assured her the fabric would make a fine robe for the northern winters.
Yun-si gripped the sandalwood box in her arms. She had chosen her gift with care: a rare edition of The Journey Through Mountains and Seas with annotations and illustrations.
It was a classic—respectable, scholarly, the kind of book that would not raise eyebrows.
But it was also a book of wonders, of strange beasts and distant lands.
Her pulse thrummed in her throat as the maiden before her presented a pair of embroidered slippers. The Princess accepted them with the same polite indifference she had shown every other gift.
Then it was Yun-si’s turn.
She stepped forward, her breath shallow, her fingers trembling just slightly as she lifted the box. The Princess’s gaze lifted to meet hers, and for the first time, Yun-si saw something flicker in those dark, inscrutable eyes.
Yun-si sank into a deep curtsy, then rose and opened the box. “Your Highness. A small token for your dowry.”
The Princess’s fingers stilled over the book. “The Journey Through Mountains and Seas,” she murmured. “I had heard that you recently acquired a bookshop.”
Yun-si’s throat tightened. So she knew.
“A modest establishment,” she said, her voice carefully even. “A place for those who love stories.”
The Princess’s thumb traced the stitching on the spine. “I have only ever read the classics and poetry.”
“It is a book of wonders, Your Highness. Of places beyond what we know.”
For a moment, the Princess said nothing. Then, there was the faintest shift in her expression, there and gone. “How... appropriate.”
The Princess’s attention had already moved on to the next maiden, but Yun-si’s gaze lingered for just a heartbeat longer as she walked away, watching the way the light caught the gold threads in the Princess’s robe, the way her profile remained perfectly composed, as if carved from jade.
The ceremonial exchanges ended, and the atmosphere eased imperceptibly.
The maidens drifted about the pavilion, voices rising in gentle murmurs.
Some clustered around the long table to admire the dowry gifts, while others enjoyed the view of the lotus blooms. Some simply lingered, sipping iced plum wine and nibbling on sweet pastries.
Across the pond, the musicians played on, their melody wafting in with the warm summer breeze.
The gathering was conducted with every appearance of cheer and celebration, but beneath it all lay an unspoken awareness that this was a farewell.
Every gift, every blessing, every smile carried the knowledge that the Princess would soon leave the capital for the northern lands and would likely never again return home.
A palace maid approached, offering Yun-si a small lacquer box. Inside lay a jade ring and a fragrance sachet, identical to the ones every maiden would receive. Yun-si accepted it with a murmur of thanks, her mind still turning.
She had come expecting tension or even animosity from the Princess. She had expected to feel the old, gnawing fear, the what if that had kept her awake for nights.
But watching the Princess accept gift after gift with that same unshakable grace, Yun-si had seen something else.
A girl. A girl who had never even read The Journey Through Mountains and Seas. A girl who had only ever been given the classics, the proper books, the ones that would never let her imagine a world beyond her gilded cage.
Yun-si’s fingers tightened around the box in her hands. How different, life might have been, if fates had been twisted. A turn down a different thread, and she might never have ended up with Gu Ting-zhi.
The Princess was not her enemy. She was just a girl who had tried to struggle against her fate.
Because some fates were cruel, and some were kind; and the people who found each other in this vast, indifferent world, were the lucky ones.
And I am, she realized, one of the lucky ones.