The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,42
had seen bigger collections in the imperial palace in Yanjing, but nowhere else. This greenhouse had been divided in half with glass and yet another door. In one half, miniature trees and the gear to care for them were arranged with an eye to the light that filled the greenhouse. A number of the step-like shelves on Briar's left were empty, but the marks that water, earth, and light left on the unstained wood indicated that upward of twenty plants were missing. "Your pines?" Briar asked, nodding toward the empty spots.
Berenene favoured him with a warm smile. "Exactly so. When I think they have a chance, I bring them onto my windows and terraces. I tend to be more cautious with the ones that are not evergreens. It's not unknown for the Syth to blow in a night's frost even this late in the spring."
Looking around, Briar saw a miniature forest of Quoy maples, each perfectly set in its large, flat tray. He was drawn to it like iron to a lodestone. The emperor of Yanjing would wilt to have something like this, Briar thought as he touched the miniature leaves with gentle fingers. He can't grow maples at all, let alone a forest arrangement. The trees nearly purred under his touch, welcoming the gentle trickle of his green magic as it flowed along their stems. From there, Briar found several shapes of rhododendrons, all blooming beautifully. A step away he found miniature apple trees in bloom. He moved from dish to dish, tree to tree, noting which had been wired to follow a particular shape, which trees displayed new grafts, which were very old and which were only made to look old. He lost all track of time and his companion as he inspected each and every plant. All were lovingly tended and in the best of health.
When he looked up, Berenene was gone. Briar frowned. How long did I pay her no mind? Did I vex her, ignoring her like that, and she went stomping off? he wondered. She seemed to understand a fellow might get caught up, but it's hard to tell what way empresses will jump.
Then he saw spring green motion through the blurred glass of the divider. She had gone into the other half of the greenhouse. He followed her, passing through the glass door and closing it in his wake. This side of the building was hot and damp, as hot as the jungles of southern Yanjing. It was an entirely different world, filled with wildly gorgeous, complex flowers. There were as many different containers for them as there were colours and shapes of flower, ranging from pots to stick holders and slabs of cork. The empress handled the blooms very carefully, inspecting them for problems, shifting them if she felt the light was too strong.
There were rolls of muslin at the inside top of the peaked roof, each with a cord that dangled to within arm's reach at the centre of the room. Briar noted small, ship-like cleats on the metal strips between panes of glass.
Curtains, he guessed. In case she thinks the light's too strong in one part of the room, she can pull down the curtains and secure the cord so the muslin's close to the glass. And when she says so, they roll them up again.
He knew instinctively that she was the only gardener in charge of this room, though she might have helpers to do the basic work when she could not. But these flowers bloomed with good care, and her face glowed with happiness as she tended them. Even more than the shakkan house, this was her place to be happy.
"Did you see all you wished?" she asked without looking at him. "Are they not splendid?"
"The emperor of Yanjing would perish of envy if he knew," Briar assured her. "Even his collection isn't as good as yours."
"I should send him something he does not have, then," murmured Berenene, moving on to the next plant. "As my thanks for his delightful gift of cloth. What do you think of my orchids?"
Briar jammed his hands in his pockets. He didn't entirely approve of orchids. "Parasites," he said, one gardener to another.
The empress chuckled. "They are not. They don't destroy, and real parasites do. Not that I object to parasites outside my garden," she said knowingly. "I am surrounded by them, all as gaudy and pretty as my orchids. That's what courtiers are, you know."