Page 30 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

“Why are you still in bed? The Lius are on their way to agree a new wedding date. We’ve already rescheduled twice. We cannot put it off again, or they may lose patience and cancel the engagement.”

Feifei pushed herself up, squinted open one bleary eye. Hsiao Niang stood in the middle of her room, hands folded at her waist. A picture of womanly virtue.

“But Hsiao Niang,” Feifei said. “What if this is the will of Tian?”

“Don’t be silly. The eight character chart of your birth dates confirm this to be a highly auspicious match. Our families are in agreement. The bride price has already been given.” Hsiao Niang bowed her head, and added, “This match was the wish of your honourable late mother, and she was wise in all things.”

Feifei’s mouth twisted; her mother was indeed wise in all things, but her mother hadn’t known the groom’s heart lay elsewhere. If she had, Feifei was certain she would never have proposed the match. Her mother had also told Feifei never to openly go against Hsiao Niang, warning that doing so would only end in misery: Feifei’s.

Falling back onto her tried and tested method of getting around Hsiao Niang’s plans, Feifei gripped her chest and started to wheeze.

“Are you alright, Fei-er?” Hsiao Niang rushed to her side, tone and expression full of concern. “I knew today would be very stressful and hard on your health so last month I visited Alchemist Yin and asked him to make a restorative tonic for you.” She gently rubbed Feifei’s back. “For once, he had all the ingredients. Dragon’s blood mushroom and moon-petal leaves are hard enough to come by, but he had just been delivered a crimson lotus! It was expensive, given the tonic takes a full two weeks to prepare, but restoring your health is worth the cost and effort.”

Feifei smiled weakly as a maid presented her with a bowl of putrid grey liquid. She poked at the tonic with her spoon; gold tendrils bloomed and shimmered to the surface. Essential qi. She drank it, grimacing the whole time. It tasted as repulsive as it smelled.

She tried another tack. “But what about what every one is saying, Hsiao Niang? I heard the other day—”

The gentle smile Hsiao Niang always wore hardened. “Listening to bagua only brings trouble. Now, get dressed. We have an important day ahead of us.”

Knowing she could not sway her, Feifei gave in. “Yes, Hsiao Niang.”

Feifei’s maids helped her dress and did her hair. Once she was ready, she dismissed them so she could put on her height stays, a silk belt to which she had sewn lengths of ribbon. These ribbons looped under her heels and kept her knees bent beneath her skirts, taking a handspan off her height. No one would mistake the full-head-shorter, weak, sickly Feifei for the Brocade Prince.

She dotted rouge on her nose and around her nostrils, smudged eyebrow dai under her eyes, and sprinkled ground malachite into her face powder. Taking out her brushes, she carefully mixed some blues, purple, and a little more eyebrow dai, and went to work on the back of her forearm. Thus armed, she headed in for battle.

Feifei trudged through the open doors of the Receiving Hall and past the line of chairs either side of the central area, towards the main dais where Lord Yang and Hsiao Niang were seated.

She bowed to her father, then to Hsiao Niang. “Feifei has seen you and greets you, Father. Feifei has seen you and greets you, Hsiao Niang.” The words left her breathless.

Lord Yang’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he gazed on his only daughter. Dark circles under her eyes made her look like she hadn’t slept for a week, her nose was raw from blowing it and her complexion had an unhealthy green tinge.

“Father is glad to see you, Fei-er. Please sit.” His voice was soft, as if speaking to a tender young child.

Feifei nodded and shuffled slowly to the chair nearest her father, breathing heavily. When she swayed slightly, Lord Yang half-stood in alarm. He knew she hated to appear weak, so he held his breath, muscles tensed, legs bent, ready to rush forward as he watched his daughter struggle to balance herself. Feifei looked like she might faint, but at the last minute, she grasped the chair and sank into it like a wilted flower.

Lord Yang gestured to the closest servant. “Bring hot ginger tea.” He leaned towards his daughter. “Fei-er, are you sure you should be out of bed? You don’t look well.”

Feifei put a hand to her face, her sleeve slipping down to expose her forearm. “We mustn’t reschedule again. They’ll think we’re trying to cancel the engagement.” She turned sad eyes on him, wheezing harder for effect.

Lord Yang stared at his daughter. “What happened to your arm?”

“It’s nothing,” Feifei said, quickly pulling her hands inside her sleeves. “I was rushing to get ready and was careless; I slipped getting out of the bath. I’ve already put on healing ointment.” She gingerly touched her arm. Brightening, she said, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Usually, that was enough for her father to send Feifei back to her room to rest. But Hsiao Niang put a hand on his arm. “The delays are making poor Fei-er worry and affecting her health. The sooner we have the wedding, the sooner all the pressure on her will lift.” She gave Feifei an encouraging nod.

At that, Feifei had a wheezing fit. Her father was about to speak but Hsiao Niang gently squeezed his arm, gesturing for the maid to bring Feifei another bowl of that hideous tonic.

“She had her tonic first thing this morning and is already much better. So long as she follows Alchemist Yin’s prescription and has the tonic three times daily for the next week, her airways will clear and she’ll be much more comfortable,” Hsiao Niang said.

Feifei was too busy drinking the vile concoction to respond, the infused qi tingling all the way down her throat. It was too late to escape anyway, because a servant announced the arrival of Lord Liu and his wastrel son Lord Xingzhou as they strode into the Hall.

Lord Liu raised his hands in zuoyi. “May you be at peace and in good health, Lord Yang, Chi Hsiao Niang and Eldest Lady Yang.”

His son bowed, hands raised in zuoyi. “I have seen you and greet you, Lord Yang, Chi Hsiao Niang and Eldest Lady Yang.”

The correct ritual pleasantries thus offered, Lord Yang invited the Lius to sit. While the two lords discussed the latest developments at court, Feifei considered her betrothed.

Lord Xingzhou sat stony-faced, staring at the floor. No wonder; his heart lay elsewhere, but the fact he was here meant he was resigned to the marriage. Feifei folded her hands in her lap and sat quietly, though inside, her temper roiled.