The Apothecary Diaries Book 3

Book 3

Prologue

Footsteps echoed down the hall: clack, clack. His own steps and the sound of his ball bouncing were almost all he could hear. Maybe the yawning of the woman minding him. His usual wet nurse was away, and he had a new attendant. The owner of the footsteps came closer; it was someone very old.

His minder rose to her feet, stepping forward protectively. She spoke deferentially to the old man, but he ignored her and continued his tottering advance, reaching out toward the boy. His white hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken, yet there were only a few wrinkles on his hand, showing that he was in fact younger than he first seemed.

A woman appeared in the room, perhaps summoned by the sound of his minder's voice. It was his mother. She walked over at a brisk trot and stood between him and the interloper, staring the old man down.

The man let out a keening cry. He seemed to be scared of the boy's mother. Frightened by the way the man's body twisted, the boy threw his ball aside and clung to his minder. Still the old man tried to approach; he seemed to want to communicate something. His outstretched hand was in a fist; he was holding something tightly. The boy's mother wielded a large fan, trying to keep the man back. She glared at him, with none of the gentle calm that was normally in her eyes, but instead a burning flame. The man was afraid of the flame, like a wild beast; he froze where he stood.

Soon, several more men came in from the hallway. They had only scraggly beards; the boy knew that they were called eunuchs. Finally, trailing after them appeared an old woman, looking supremely calm. She wore an elaborate ornamental hair stick that jangled like a bell, and at the sound the attendants organized themselves into a neat line. The boy's minder and his mother both knelt. He thought this meant he should kneel too. The woman looked even older than the old man, but there was a bright light in her eyes, her gaze sharp enough to pierce. The boy felt himself shiver.

He thought he had seen the woman several times before. She was someone very important, that much he remembered; the young ladies-in-waiting had said nobody dared to go against her.

The old woman touched the old man. "Come, now. Back to your room." Her voice was gentle, soothing, but the man took fright again, huddling close to the wall. He curled himself up and the boy could hear his teeth chattering, could tell his whole body was trembling. A sparkling object tumbled out of the man's clasped hand, drawing the boy's attention in spite of himself. It was a colorful stone, the hue hovering somewhere between vermillion and turmeric.

He had seen it somewhere before. What was it? The vibrant color struck some deep chord, but he simply couldn't remember.

The old woman furrowed her brow and turned her back on the man, wholly ignoring everyone else in the room. Now the eunuchs stepped forward, coaxing and cajoling him until they could lead him back out of the residence.

The boy observed every minute of this, still clinging close to his minder. He had no idea what it was all about; the only thing he felt was fear.

Then there was his mother, though, kneeling beside him; she fixed a scorching glare on the retreating woman. Who must that old man and lady be, the boy wondered, to provoke such a scathing expression from his normally placid mother?

It would be sometime later before he learned. The man was his father, he was told, and the old woman his grandmother.

The man he had always believed was his father, he found out, was his own older brother.

It wasn't yet the season when it was difficult to sleep, yet Jinshi awoke with his bedclothes soaked in sweat. He sat up in bed, feeling ill, and grabbed for the pitcher on the table, bringing it quickly to his lips. The water within had been mixed with a touch of fruit juice and honey, deeply refreshing to his dehydrated body.

He could see moonlight coming in through the window.

They said something bad always happened after a nightmare. Or was that just superstition? Jinshi took a breath and put the water back on the table. There were still hours before dawn. He ought to go back to sleep; if he didn't, his minder Gaoshun would be upset with him.

Still, when one can't sleep, one can't sleep. There's no use forcing the matter. And when one couldn't sleep, the solution was to work the body until one was tired.

Jinshi took down an imitation sword sitting on one of his shelves. It was a training blade with a dull edge, built to be especially short and heavy. He made a wide one-handed sweep. He wished he could do this outside, but it would only be a headache for him if his guards realized what he was doing. They still might notice him here in his room, but at least if he stayed inside they might see fit to look the other way.

His room, though, was not particularly suited to sword practice. He had a solution: he decided to perform the routine on one foot. After going through the entire routine once, he would switch feet and hands and do it again. He did this several times, until it began to get light outside.

Jinshi lay spread-eagle on the ground to cool off his body, warmed by the exercise. Maybe he would have them prepare a bath for him, he thought, but then the face of a displeased palace woman floated through his mind. Her expression always revealed how she felt about him taking a bath first thing in the morning and then applying copious perfume. But he couldn't go to work reeking of sweat. If he was going to play the part of the flawless eunuch, Jinshi, he had to at least smell decent.

He couldn't just tell her that, though—that was what was so annoying. Yet neither, he thought, could he remain silent on the matter forever. She was a sharp one, that woman; surely she must suspect something by now. Perhaps she had already discerned the truth and was merely pretending not to have noticed. Well, it would certainly make the conversation easier... Jinshi stood up, put the training sword back in its place, and then collapsed back on his bed. He didn't bother to change his clothes. He still had a few minutes before his attendant Suiren came to wake him. He could at least grab a moment's rest before that.

He just had to be careful he wasn't taken by the urge to yawn at work, he told himself.