Bai Shen had instructed. None of these meddlesome questions.
‘But you are a princess,’ Tong replied. ‘Our divine Emperor has declared it so.’
She was beginning to understand. Heqin wasn’t about marriage at all. It was an arrangement between kingdoms and ambassadors. She would serve as a puppet. Well, that was fine. An imperial puppet was regarded more highly than a teahouse girl.
‘I will do my best to be worthy of such an honour,’ she said gravely.
At the end of the visit, Tong rose to go, but he threw one last question at her like an unexpected dagger.
‘It must be hard for a young woman to be going so far away from home,’ he said.
The words sounded like kindness, but she knew better. She chose her words carefully, trying to make them as obsequious and flattering as possible. ‘I will miss my home and our beautiful empire without question. Every woman must leave home at some point in her life.’
‘What of imperial candidate Zheng Xie Han? I hear he was a childhood friend of yours.’
The name meant nothing. She glanced at Fei Long and was met by the stone wall of his expression. A prickle of sweat began to gather at her brow, but she didn’t dare wipe it away.
‘Of course, I will miss all our neighbours and friends, Inspector Tong,’ she ventured. ‘They have been unbelievably kind upon my father’s death.’
And at that mention, Tong was forced to bow his head reverently and say a few kind words about the elder Lord Chang.
As he gave his final farewell, Tong lowered his voice and spoke directly to Fei Long. ‘Did you know that candidate Zheng is missing?’
‘I wasn’t aware. Our families are not very close.’
She stood respectfully and watched as the two men exchanged bows. Her stomach knotted as she went over each one of her stumbles. As soon as the censor was gone, Yan Ling let out a long sigh of relief. It was the deepest breath she’d taken in over an hour. ‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea who Zhang Xie Han was.’
‘No need to apologise.’ A light smile touched Fei Long’s lips. ‘Tong was trying to break your focus, but you were perfect. Absolutely brilliant.’
Brilliant, despite the way her throat was dry and her nails dug into her palms. Her face ached from forcing a blank and pleasant expression for so long. Yan Ling didn’t know what she had done to earn his praise, but to hear such words coming from Fei Long—she glowed like a lantern inside.
Chapter Nine
The soft, warming glow continued the next day as Yan Ling floated from the gardens to the study to the parlour. An official-looking letter came for them. Minister Cao was sending his apologies for his detainment and complimenting Pearl on the report he’d received about her gracious and honourable conduct. Fei Long cast a meaningful glance at her while he read the praise, making her shiver with happiness.
Over the next days, Fei Long fell back into pattern and ritual. Their afternoon lessons continued in earnest. He would spare a few precious moments of instruction before becoming absorbed in the ledgers on his desk. Yan Ling would steal glances at him from across the study. That deep crease between his eyes could have been painted on; she rarely saw him without it.
They were working on more complex characters that afternoon. Yan Ling stared at her brush in a trance, still seeing that one conspiratorial look Fei Long had given her. She drew the ink across the paper in lazy strokes, imagining that the secret glance held much, much more that was unspoken.
‘You’re distracted,’ Fei Long declared from his desk.
She looked up, startled. ‘No, I’m not,’ she argued more from impulse than thought.
‘Your calligraphy is uneven. I can see it from here. It’s important that you concentrate.’
‘Oh, yes,’ She drawled lightly. ‘I heard once of a princess who was to be married to Khitan, but they saw how her calligraphy was all wrong and they sent her back.’
‘Keep writing,’ he commanded, turning his attention back to his affairs.
Yan Ling thought she caught a smile hidden behind the letter he was reading.
She dipped the brush again, but only started writing after casting a glare at Fei Long to make it clear that she was not continuing without protest.
By the end of the hour, she’d filled several sheets of paper. She was cleaning her brushes when Fei Long set a package on the edge of his desk. The crinkle of the brown paper wrapping