Blood of Deception [ON HOLD]

Chapter Twenty

Meiyue headed to the feast afterward. Xiaonu had brought some ointment and bandages for her hand and they'd managed to wash away the blood on the princess's coat. Her own performance somewhat surprised even herself, judging by the state of her hand. She had never felt so powerful playing the piece before.

Red tents crowded the courtyard as the celebration unfolded within. Stone lampposts lined the winding pathways that snaked throughout the maze-like area. Carpets were laid above the pavement. Refreshments packed the tables that stood on the emerald grass and male pages scurried by with trays of ceramic goblets.

As she approached the main tents the path opened to a spacious clearing where extravagance was offered to the guests. Tall, fat candles flickered on shining holders placed in the middle of each table. There was a relatively huge one in front of the rest, draped in an elaborate tablecloth, supporting a stock of steaming dishes. The chairs pushed underneath it gave about thirty seats. A rectangular stage was constructed beyond, where dancers were assembling. On either side of the platform sat about a dozen musicians taking position by their respective instruments.

Meiyue caught a glimpse of her tutor before others blocked her view. She was aware of Xiaonu trailing behind her, yet she still felt so alone. It was the price of thoroughly skipping the banquets of the past years. Flatteries and shallow conversations that did not lead to any purpose wasn't something she enjoyed. And by not fitting into any particular group of the court ladies, people came to instead worship her about it.

More guests streamed into the clearing. Meiyue kept her gaze occupied on anything she could possibly lay her eyes on, not wanting to engage in chatters that would delay her assignment. She swept a glance over the crowd, searching for anyone special that could lead her to the Madonna.

When the people she saw were the regular aristocrats she moved on to another table. The sight of all the excessive food brought shame coursing through her. Some were barely having enough rice to sustain their family while the rich had the privilege to waste away on sheer whims.

"Are they not to your liking, Your Highness?"

Meiyue looked up to the speaker. A man about Yuzhe's age, in his early twenties, stood across from her. He wore green attire with a sword protruding at his waist. His square face had a pair of unusual gray eyes fixed on her.

He brought his hands before him and bowed. "I am Jin Qingsheng, son of the Chief of the Trade and Foreign Relations Department," he introduced. "It is an honor to meet you, at last, Your Highness."

Meiyue curtsied. "The pleasure is mine."

"I must say, you have put up with excellent performance," he said, coming over. "Your music was a living thing."

He stopped at an appropriate distance. Meiyue was amazed by his height. "Thank you," she said, "though I apologized for the slight mistake."

"Nonsense," he stated. "Mistakes attract more attention."

In spite of herself, she chuckled. The act helped her ease just a little.

"Princess Meiyue!"

Before she could fully see who was calling her, a young lady practically threw herself at her and caught her arm, (thankfully her right arm), as if they were close friends. "I'm a huge fan of yours, Your Highness," she claimed, beaming at her. Her big black eyes shone in delight.

Meiyue straightened just as another man came in their direction. "Lingling, where are your manners?" he scolded. Then his focus shifted to the princess and the man portrayed a bow. "Pardon her, Your Grace. I am from the Han Household, Han Yimu. This is my sister."