gave her a confused look before wandering off.
She placed the tray onto the table and arranged the porcelain cup neatly in front of Fei Long. At least this was something she knew how to do. The nobleman watched her with that penetrating gaze of his as she poured. When the cup was full, she set the pot down and stepped back with immense relief. This was harder than she’d ever imagined and they were only one day into the trip. What would be expected of her once they reached the great city of Changan?
‘Yan Ling.’ Her name sounded strange coming from his lips. So proper and enunciated. It was almost too elegant to be hers. He gestured to the chair opposite him. ‘Sit down.’
She complied, folding her hands in her lap nervously as she waited. Steam rose from the pot beside her. Fei Long reached for the handle and poured her a cup. She took it from his hands obligingly, but refrained from drinking since he hadn’t yet touched his tea.
He watched her with eyes that were dark and thoughtful. ‘You’re not my servant.’
Tm … I’m not?’
He shook his head, looking a bit uncomfortable with the situation himself. ‘You’re not required to attend to me. You are here to learn and I am here to teach you.’
She nodded fervently, though she still didn’t understand. This situation was growing even worse. The uncertainty of it left her bewildered and anxious. In the teahouse she knew exactly what was supposed to be done from the moment she woke up.
‘What am I to learn?’ she asked.
‘Manners. Etiquette. How to write, how to speak. Everything that would be expected of a heqin bride.’
Everything? ‘When was your sister supposed to leave for Khitan?’
‘In three months.’
Her stomach sickened. Lord Chang didn’t look happy either. Or maybe he always frowned like that. She’d seen that look more on his face than any other. He lifted his cup and she mirrored his movement. The tea was a bit hot so she blew over it gently.
‘You shouldn’t do that.’
She flinched at the reprimand. Hot liquid splashed over her fingers.
‘Wait for the tea to cool and sip slowly.’ He demonstrated while she stared at him incredulously. She did the same, not daring to do much more than touch her lips to the rim.
‘And when you took the cup from me, you did it with one hand.’
Had she?
‘Two hands,’ he went on. ‘With a slight bow of your head as you accept the cup.’
Heaven and earth, she didn’t even know how to drink tea properly! She, who had grown up in a teahouse. But she’d never had the opportunity to accept a cup of tea from anyone. She poured her own tea and drank it in the kitchen with the rest of the servants.
‘Two hands. Slight bow,’ she recited under her breath.
The next minutes were excruciating. They sat and sipped tea as if it was a sacred ritual, and apparently it was. Fei Long told her about entire classical texts written about tea. She glanced at him over the rim of her cup while she drank. With every moment, she waited for the next arrow to fly: sit straight, head up. No, head too high.
‘Are you a general in the imperial army?’ she blurted out.
‘No. Why?’
He did carry a sword and seemed to like giving commands. ‘I was just wondering,’ she said, glowering.
‘I serve as a squad captain in the north-western garrison,’ he answered stiffly. ‘But I had to leave to attend to my father’s affairs.’
She nodded. Her neck was tired from nodding. ‘That’s a very powerful position, then?’
He stared at her. She realised she was staring back and lowered her gaze.
‘No,’ he replied after a pause, regarding her intently, as if she’d said something highly improper, and took a methodical sip of tea. ‘It is a very worthy post.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ She squirmed beneath his scrutiny. ‘I’m certain it must be.’
She didn’t know a thing about military rankings or the exalted history of tea. Every day would have to be like this if she was going to learn what she needed to know.
Yan Ling was exhausted by the time the food came, but she was grateful to have something besides the nobleman’s discerning stare to occupy herself. Her mouth watered at the dishes placed before her. The journey had worked up her appetite and she piled slices of pork along with sautéed bamboo shoots and greens onto her rice. The flavours were rich with a blend of garlic and chilli. Indeed, a meal for a princess.
Not two bites in, the arrows started again.
‘Slowly,’ he reprimanded in a low voice.
Weariness had beaten down her defences. She narrowed her eyes and shot him a poisoned look of her own. It missed the mark, though. Fei Long was looking downwards, concentrating on the motion of his balanced chopsticks as he ate with perfect moderation.
Fei Long had occasionally travelled with servants. They rarely needed instruction, always knew their place and moved about unnoticed and unseen. He didn’t know what to do with someone who was untrained and without a predetermined role and function. This became painfully obvious when he went to his room at the inn and found that Yan Ling had followed him dutifully into the chamber.
She blinked at him, awaiting some instruction undoubtedly. When none came, she turned and headed to the door. He let out a breath of relief, but it was short-lived. Yan Ling closed the door and once again faced him, hands folded. Waiting.
The family’s servants and hired hands always disappeared somewhere once they settled down for the night. He didn’t know where. He didn’t care where.
‘Yan Ling.’
‘My lord?’
He preferred not to think of her as a female as they travelled together, but it was hard not to once they were alone like this. He considered calling for the innkeeper and asking for some other place for her, but that was impossible. Where would they put a lone young woman? He had proposed this scheme and taken her along with him, which meant her well being and safety was now his responsibility. And nothing was more important to Fei Long than his responsibilities.
The low platform of the bed lay against one wall. He gathered the bamboo mat that had been laid over the top of it.
He deposited the rolled mat in Yan Ling’s arms. ‘Take any spot you wish. Sleep well.’
She looked left and right. The situation was clearly as uncomfortable for her as it was for him. Quickly, quietly, she moved to the furthest corner from the bed. He averted his eyes and prepared himself for sleep, striving to ignore whatever was happening in the corner.
First he removed his sword and then started to undo his outer robe. He paused with his hand over his belt and glanced over his shoulder.
Yan
