Empress Dugu laughed lightly, as if it were nothing. “Leave it to the empress. See that the gift is handsome — I trust Luan Yue can handle the arrangements.”
Dugu Luanyue snorted inwardly at the flattery. Leave it to her, indeed; the emperor was only propping her up with compliments. No matter how splendid she made Huo Wei’s birthday, his heart would still be tethered to Murong Min. What would she gain from all the fuss?
She had other plans. If she was going to tame this wild beast, she might as well use his birthday to draw him closer.
“Then I may take full charge?” she asked, testing.
Emperor Murong Min put an arm around her and smiled. “Yes. Do as you see fit. I give you the authority.”
She leaned into him, smile soft and eyes warm, and kissed his cheek. “Very well. I will give the Prince of Yuzhang a celebration befitting his name — something that makes him feel the emperor’s favor to his bones, so that his loyalty is sealed.”
Word that the court would host a birthday feast for the Prince of Yuzhang spread quickly. Huo Wei, when he heard, only smiled twice, an expression that held nothing but contempt.
A few days later Murong Min set out with a guard escort to greet the Crown Prince Dongning; many civil and military officials accompanied him.
From the highest tower, Dugu Luanyue watched the procession below. Her eyes, rimmed in crimson, were clouded with thought. “The emperor ordered us to give Huo Wei a birthday, yet the man himself doesn’t come. I even thought to invite ministers to make up the numbers, but now they’ve all gone with His Majesty. How am I to stage the banquet?”
Yuzan stood beside her, puzzled. “It’s a princely birthday. If the key figures aren’t here, will the seats be filled?”
Luanyue frowned. “I half-expected this. The emperor never leaves important matters to me lightly. And now that I’ve been left to arrange it, his absence makes the whole thing awkward. The Prince of Yuzhang’s birthday is in two days — talk about timing. The emperor even said it must be done decently. How are we to make it respectable when we’re unprepared?”
Aunt Mei Jiang said, “I don’t know if His Majesty truly favors the prince, or if this is all a show. Either way, it’s strange.”
Luanyue thought it through and understood. Murong Min was an experienced ruler. Marking Huo Wei’s birthday was a gift from the throne; but by being absent and taking the ministers with him he was sending a message: you are not truly respected in Northern Yan. Your only patron and anchor is the emperor himself. It was a reprimand wrapped in ceremony — a tap on the shoulder telling Huo Wei to mind his place.
“He’s been basking in the glory of killing enemies and expanding the realm,” Luanyue murmured, brow softening. “The emperor is cutting him down a bit. Not to destroy his power, but to trim it. For a moment I pitied Huo Wei. He bled for Northern Yan; he gave his life for its borders, and within months he is being reined in. If this were South Chu, I wouldn’t treat such a meritorious man this way. Constant suppression only drives a wedge between ruler and subject.”
Yuzan, practical as ever, raised a question. “But if a man like the Prince of Yuzhang is left unchecked, he may become too powerful — a threat to the throne in time. What then?”
Luanyue smiled as if half-joking, half-serious. “If he were in South Chu, I’d make him mine. I’d marry him, bear his children — tie him to me so he’d have no reason to look elsewhere.”
Aunt Mei’s eyes flicked up, about to speak, then stopped. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts passed her lady’s lips. Luanyue had been contracted once to the eldest Sheng son in South Chu; as future empress she allowed herself the luxury of imagining a different path for men of talent.
Back at Zhaoyang Hall, Luanyue shed her hairpins and reclined on her couch, idly twirling a strand of hair. Aunt Mei came in, respectful. “Your Ladyship, the servants from the other palaces are waiting outside Zhaoyang Hall. You ordered the suspension of all monthly stipends and winter coal deliveries from the three inner palaces and the six courts. How should we proceed?”
Luanyue lowered her eyes and said coolly, “When did this Hall become a place for servants to collect rations? If they want them, let them come here and fetch them themselves. I am the empress; I have lived here long enough to expect some respect.”
Aunt Mei bowed. “Yes, Your Ladyship. I will send the word.”
Early next morning, some lower-ranking concubines came themselves to claim their monthly allowances and coal. Empress Luanyue sat on her phoenix throne, wearing a crimson robe that rustled to the floor. “Which palace are you from?”
Noble Lady Shen stood timidly below, avoiding a direct look. The last banquet had placed the imperial consort and the emperor on the dragon dais together; Luanyue had hardly seen her. Today, up close, Noble Lady Shen’s demeanour was small and frightened. “I am Shen Yu of Qinghe Palace,” she said.
Yuzan stepped forward. “Your Majesty, a few other ladies have come as well. Do you wish to see them?”
Luanyue smiled: “Bring them in. So far I only know Consort Zhao and Noble Lady Shen.”
Three or four concubines entered in a cluster. Luanyue did not make things difficult. For the lower-ranked women who needed no silver coal stoves, she distributed what they required. When they left, they did so smiling; each had received a small gift from the empress — a delicate golden headpiece, finely wrought. The presents pleased them, and their faces brightened as they departed.
Luanyue knew, however, that those who came first were the low rank and therefore safe. The real power players in the inner court had stayed away — some at the orders of Consort Zhao, who warned them that defiance would bring trouble. Still, the concubines had braved Zhao’s displeasure because winter without coal was unbearable.
“Send this order through the household: anyone who does not come today will forfeit their monthly supplies this month. From now on I will receive no one,” Luanyue told Aunt Mei.
Aunt Mei hesitated. “Your Ladyship, if His Majesty hears the household almsgiving has been suspended and thinks you are harsh to the inner court, it will be difficult to explain.”
Luanyue chuckled, serene. “The chief steward of the inner affairs office is busy with preparations for the Prince of Yuzhang’s birthday. Naturally the distribution of allowances and fuel will lag a few days. If the emperor asks, it will be no trouble to explain.”
That night Luanyue could not sleep. Far from South Chu, with Aunt Mei the one person closest to her, she confessed in the hush between them: “Aunt, what should I give Huo Wei in private?”