Free The Moon in the Palace (The Empress of Bright Moon Duology) by Weina Dai Randel Page B

was the man in the Forbidden Park who had shouted for Pheasant. When he talked to the ministers near me, I studied him. He was the tallest, most robust man I had ever seen. His neck was thick, his shoulders wide, and he towered over the other people by a head. Each time he approached a minister, he cracked his knuckles and then bowed. He also seemed to be uncomfortable in his regalia; each time he rose, he pulled at his sleeves and frowned.
    I had heard stories about him. The firstborn of the Emperor and the late Empress Wende, he was twenty years old. He had grown up in the military camp when his father and his grandfather were warring against the Sui Dynasty. A mighty wrestler, Taizi had never lost a bout since he was nine years of age, and I would have said he was built more for wrestling than for ruling.
    “He would make a fine ruler,” a lady in a blue gown near me said.
    “Not so loud.” An old lady with her hair shaped in Cloudy Chignon elbowed her. “The spies are everywhere.”
    I fell on my heels and turned to her. Who would object to Taizi’s rule? “Whose spies?”
    “Oh.” The old lady coughed and glanced at me. “I know who you are. You gave the Emperor a riddle. Very clever. You were summoned.”
    I smiled to let her know I meant no harm. “Yes, and I may never be summoned again. Who are you worried about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
    “Ah, I should not say this, but have you noticed the Emperor’s uncle?” The old lady pointed at an old man holding a cane. Clearly most revered for his age and rank, the Uncle stood among a group of ministers with high hats who bowed constantly as he spoke, his finger stabbing in the air.
    “He does not look happy,” I said. Father had said the Uncle had gone through many battles with Emperor Gaozu and helped found the dynasty. He would have been the one to inherit the throne if the Emperor had begotten no sons.
    “For a good reason,” the lady with the blue gown said, pointing at Taizi as he left the ministers to kneel before the guest of honor, a tall man, to receive his three hats—a skintight silk wrapping, a leather cap, and a square black hat embroidered with golden dragons flying through clouds. Each hat carried profound meanings. The wrapping signified his responsibility as a man to himself, the cap to his family, and the black hat to society.
    I understood immediately. The Adulthood Ceremony was one of the four most important ceremonies in a man’s life. The guest of honor, who would confer the hats on the heir, was supposed to be the most senior member of the imperial family, who I assumed would be the Uncle, but the man who held the wrapping appeared to be in middle age. “Who’s the guest of honor?”
    “That’s the Duke, the late Empress’s brother, the Emperor’s brother-in-law,” the lady in the blue gown said. “He—”
    The old lady coughed, and the lady in blue swallowed her words. I did not ask more questions. There was no need. Clearly, the Duke and the Uncle did not get along.
    It was getting hot. The morning air turned fetid with the odor of scorched pigskin on the sacrificial tables and musk and camphor from burning incense. Layers of heavy clouds pressed against the roof of the Altar House. It would rain soon.
    The ministers lined up before the platform to praise Taizi. First the Uncle, then a hunchbacked man wearing jade pendants, Chancellor Wei Zheng. Following him were more ministers. They bowed constantly, their heads springing up and down like hungry birds pecking at grain.
    When they finished, the Duke cleared his throat and shouted from the platform. “Today, we are here to witness one of the most important rituals in life, the Adulthood Ceremony, for my great-nephew, our Taizi, Li Chengqian, the heir of Great China.” He held a wrapping above Taizi’s head. “I now have the honor to recognize you, the firstborn of the Li family, whose ancestry is of the most supreme in this kingdom, son of the late daughter of