“Commerce,” he said softly. “You astound me.”
She responded with a quotation, or so it sounded that way given the cadence of her speech, but he didn’t understand the words. “What did you say?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t speak Manchu?”
He shook his head. Though he was a red bannerman by heritage, he’d grown up far from Peking. Few outside of the capitol city spoke the language of the Manchurians, for all that they were the ruling elite. He and most everyone he knew spoke Mandarin. Even Master Gao did not know the Manchu language.
“Ah, well, what I said is, ‘If a son is uneducated, the father is to blame.’ My father believes that applies to daughters as well. Especially daughters—”
“Who will become the empress,” he finished for her.
She nodded, and her expression was sad. Then she frowned. “You should learn the language. Those who take the exam as a translator always get selected. Unless they are very stupid.”
He nodded. He already knew that, but he hadn’t been able to find—or pay—a tutor. He leaned forward. “Will you teach me?”
She smiled. “I would love to.” Then she glanced at the table. “After all, you have already taught me so much.”
His body tightened at the memory. “Did I… Are you hurt?”
“Nothing beyond a very pleasant ache,” she said, her expression turning lascivious.
“Careful,” he warned. “You are not supposed to know about that.”
She nodded. “I am very good at hiding what I know. But do you mean that what we did is not in the book?”
He frowned. “What book?”
“Mother said that grandmother was given a book on her wedding day. That I could have it as well—”
“A pillow book.”
She looked at him, her expression eager. “Do you know of these books? Do you have one?”
He knew of them. He’d even seen one. But that was not something his tutors thought valuable for him. Besides, boys learned things anyway. He saw the book when one of his friends stole it from his mother’s bedroom.
“I don’t have one,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “I fear there is a great deal more to learn. And though I enjoy my education, it will not be enough. I cannot dance for the emperor the way I danced with you.”
His heart twisted in his chest at the thought of her dancing for anyone other than himself. But he could not say that. Instead, he leaned forward and gripped her hand.
“Think of what we did when you dance. Let it accentuate your movements. It will be enough.”
Her gaze held so many emotions that he could not read them all. Sadness, fear, hope, and much more flitted across her face. “Will it be enough?”
Probably not. But if her father had been planning for her to become empress since before her birth, he would have given many bribes to set her up. Zhi Hao now realized that she might indeed be his next empress.
“I will get you a copy of the book,” he promised. He had no idea where or with what coin, but if this was all he could do for her, he would find a way.
“Thank you,” she said. “And in return, I shall teach you to speak Manchu. Even if you don’t pass the exam this year, you can try again next year as a translator.”
He nodded. It was a good plan. But it was also a plan that would take too long. She would be locked in the Forbidden City long before he had the chance to take the exam under a new discipline.
She abruptly leaned forward, the light coming back into her eyes. “Let’s begin,” she said. Then she began to ask him questions in Manchu.
He fumbled with his answers. He had picked up a little Manchu along the way, so he could answer with his name and his family. But beyond that…
Luckily, she was a patient teacher. And he did his best, even though he was always distracted by the lilt in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes, and the joy in her laughter. How odd that her beauty was lower on the list of things he adored about her. Shewas beautiful, but now he began to appreciate the whole of her, most especially her mind.