Free The Dragon and the Pearl by Jeannie Lin Page B

know there will be a full moon tonight?’ Her tone lightened deliberately. She set the folded square of cloth aside and sat back, looking out over the courtyard, past the rooftops. ‘Auntie tells me the household goes to Rongzhou for the festival every year.’
    He nodded. ‘They stay for days until the celebration is over.’
    ‘You never go with them?’
    He supposed he never had.
    ‘We would celebrate in the palace with elaborate lanterns,’ she went on when he didn’t answer. ‘And eat sweet sticky dumplings.’
    She was making a valiant effort to distract him, but idle conversation wasn’t an art he had mastered. He followed her gaze to the darkening sky even though there was no moon yet to see.
    ‘I miss the lantern festival in Luoyang the most. The lanterns would be strung from balcony to balcony.’ She traced an imaginary line in the air with her hand. ‘Everyone would be out in the streets, packed close together.’
    Her face lit with an unrestrained energy and he couldn’t help but recall the scene she described. How many times had he pushed his way through the crush of the crowd as a boy in Luoyang? He had craned his neck to watch the paper lanterns swinging overhead. All the colours glowing against the black sky.
    ‘The lanterns would burn all night in Luoyang,’ he said.
    ‘Have you been to the eastern capital?’ she asked.
    She flashed a genuine smile at him. Her hand dangled over the arm of the chair and he was stricken by the urge to lace his fingers through hers. But if he did, he might frighten away the hopeful, bright-eyed girl who had emerged and the artful courtesan would return.
    He stood abruptly. ‘Do you ride?’
    ‘I don’t know how.’
    She stared at him, startled, but she took his hand when he held it out. For once she didn’t ask any questions and simply let him lead.

    They were soaring through the forest, jostled and tossed at the whim of the black beast beneath them. Li Tao had his arms about her while she clutched at the front of his robe. Silk whipped about her legs. She held on as the earth pounded by. She prayed.
    Li Tao had foregone the palanquin to set her on to the saddle in front of him, pulled up against the cradle of his hard thighs. Embarrassment was quickly replaced by abject terror as the horse surged forwards. An escort of ten soldiers rode along with them and the combined thundering of their mounts around her added to her disorientation.
    ‘Please slow down,’ she begged, then shouted it again when he couldn’t hear her over the pound of hooves.
    He spoke over the top of her head. ‘You won’t fall.’
    Impassive and stone-faced as always as if he could command away her fear. He handled the reins with ease as he leaned forwards, absorbing the impact of the ride. He must be revelling in the way she cowered against him.
    ‘Governor Li.’ She dug her nails into his chest until she connected with taut flesh beneath the rumpled cloth.
    ‘The town is close,’ he assured.
    It was not close. She buried her face against his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut to escape the roar of the wind. The steady pulse of his heart sounded beneath her ear in contrast to the frantic hammering of hers. He threw a rough arm around her to steady her, a matter of necessity rather than any show of concern, she decided. She was going to be sick.
    Finally they reached their destination and he pulled the horse to a stop. He dismounted first and closed his hands around her waist to lift her from the saddle. Her legs trembled like saplings as she settled on to the ground. They stood by wooden gates with a cluster of buildings before them and a babble of voices floated from the streets.
    ‘Rongzhou is too far, but there is a smaller festival here,’ he said.
    She ventured ahead, the harrowing ride soon forgotten. The sound of drumbeats came from the centre of town accompanied by flutes and the crash of cymbals.
    A dozen armed soldiers would not be a common sight for a town of this