Tolonen stared back at him, his natural defiance tempered by the fact that he knew Rheinhardt was right.

He had been stupid.

"What will you do?" he asked quietly.Rheinhardt straightened up, then shook his head in exasperation. "There's nothing I can do. Li Yuan will have to know. If Ward presses charges . . ."

Tolonen sat forward, some of the old fire returning to him. "Let him press charges! But he won't marry my daughter!"

Rheinhardt stared at the old man with a mixture of dismay and pity, then spoke to him, more gently than before. "Jelka is of age now, Knut. Don't you understand that? She can choose for herself now. And if she chooses Ward-"

Tolonen stood, his golden hand bunched into a fist as if to strike the one he was talking of. "He won't! I won't let him! I'd rather see him dead!"

Rheinhardt drew himself up rigid, pained to hear the old man reduced to this. "I would be careful what you say, Marshal Tolonen. I am empowered to uphold the law in City Europe. Your words-"

"Are no more than the truth," the old man said defiantly, his gray eyes piercing Rheinhardt's. His voice boomed now with all its ancient power. "Arrest me, if you dare. Go tell Li Yuan. But you will not stop me. Whether I lose my daughter or not, he shall not have her. You understand me, General Rheinhardt? I won't let him!"

Rheinhardt stared back at the old man a moment, then came to attention, clicking his heels and bowing his head smartly.

"You will hear from me, Marshal," he said, stepping back. "Until you do-"

But Tolonen was not listening. The old man turned and, crossing the room, disappeared into his dressing room, slamming the door behind him.

Rheinhardt closed his eyes, letting out a deep, audible sigh. Then, feeling a sadness that was beyond expression, he turned and left, knowing that the old man had given him no choice.

LI YUAN stood at the top of the landing ramp, looking out toward the silent stone walls of T'ai Yueh Shan palace, his mood despondent.

It was a gray, cheerless day, the wind whipping off the water of the lake, the calling of the geese like the cries of lost souls.

I should not have come, he thought. I should have left her here to rot.

But now that he was here he would see it through. Besides, he had to know, to purge himself of this so that he could move on and be strong again.

He shivered, then turned, calling for another, warmer cloak. At once a servant brought one.

The past few weeks had been a torment. In his mind he had constantly pictured her with Tsu Ma.

Wherever he turned, there they were, leering at him and laughing, their nakedness taunting him. Little boy, they'd called, mockingly. Such a silly little boy, to love your brother's wife.

The pain he felt at such moments was intense. No less intense for being of the mind. Two souls they said he had-the earth soul and the spirit soul, p'o and hun-and at such moments he had no cause to doubt them, for while his body was untroubled, his spirit ached. Ached like a rotting tooth that could not be pulled.Well, so it might be. Yet he would try to rid himself of it. Here, today, he would face that inner pain and try to find surcease.

He went down, walking between the lines of kneeling, bowing guards, and on along the path that led to the great West Gate.

Eight and a half years ago he had given her this place, for her and her bastard son. He had divorced her on the day of his coronation and she had had the child two days later, on his wedding day.

Li Yuan slowed his pace, looking to his right, across the grassy slope toward the ornamental bridge, remembering. His wedding day ... It had been a day much like this, with the wind whipping off the lake.

The nineteenth day of the ninth month it had been. The week before Chiu Fen, the Autumn Equinox.

He sighed. And now those three I married that day are dead and she still lives. How strange it was that after all that had happened, it was to her he was returning. Always to her.

Yes, but no more. After today . . .

Fei Yen was waiting in her rooms. She greeted him with cold civility, kneeling and pressing her head three times against the floor before she straightened up.

"How are you?" he asked, yet a single look told him far more than she could ever say. There was a darkness behind her eyes that had not been there a month ago, a tightness to her mouth. Whatever madness had compelled her to fly to Tsu Ma's palace that day, whatever hotness of the blood had urged her on, it had congealed in her now. Eyes which had burned with an angry passion now stared at him with frigid insolence.

Her words, when they came, were, like the formality of her greeting, only a mockery.

"I am very happy here, Chieh Hsia. You do me great honor, visiting me."

He felt the pain rekindled; felt that familiar tightening of his stomach muscles. Why was it thus? Why did she still have power over him, after all these years?

"I came to clarify things," he answered. "Much was left . . . unstated last time we met."

She laughed. "Unstated? Why, forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but I thought I expressed myself quite eloquently. Your cousin fucked me. Not once, but many times. Would you like to know where and how?" Her eyes searched his, as if trying to gauge how best to inflict pain, "It would be no trouble, if you've the time. I can recall each and every occasion." She smiled. "He may have been a bastard, but Tsu Ma was a memorable fuck. He-"

"Enough!"

He turned from her, smoothing out his gloves, trying not to show the intense hurt, the agitation, he was feeling, but her voice went on, ignoring his command.

"We would ride up to the ruins of the old monastery, up in the hills above Tongjiang. Inside, in the oldest of the temples, he would lay down his riding blanket and we would strip and lie on it. And then . . ."

He turned, staring at her, compelled, despite himself, to know. "And then"-her voice, her face slowly changed, softening-"and then he would make love to me." She sighed. "So fierce and yet so-so gentle he was. As if he could feel what I was feeling. As if . . ."She shuddered and looked away, all of the anger in her transmuted suddenly to pain.

He stared at her, for that brief moment understanding her. For the very first time understanding just what had driven her. Ai^a.' he thought. To feel that, and yet to be tied.

"I understand," he said quietly. "It ... it was not your fault. Tsu Ma . . ."

He swallowed back the sudden surge of hatred he felt for the man. She came across and stood beside him, her dark eyes looking up at him, the sweet scent of her filling his senses. And if he were to reach out . . .

Slowly he put his arms about her and bent his face to hers, her mouth opening to his, her lips warm and moist. It was the thing he had missed most all these years: being kissed by her.

He broke from the kiss and moved his head back, staring at her, suddenly afraid of what he'd done.

"Make love to me," she said softly, her eyes pleading with him. "Now. Before the moment vanishes."

He shivered, then, unable to prevent himself, nodded, letting her lift the cloak from his shoulders and begin to unbutton his robe, a boy again, the veil of years torn aside.

"Fei Yen," he whispered, his hand reaching up to caress her neck, her cheek, his fingers smoothing the side of her head as it pressed back against his touch. "Fei Yen . . ."

She drew him down, onto the bed, her soft warm kisses on his neck and shoulders blinding his senses, making him groan with sweet delight. She fumbled at his loincloth, her hand brushing intimately against his fiercely swollen sex, and then he was inside her, thrusting into her, the pain of longing in her face inflaming him, making him spasm and come immediately. And still he thrust, and still she met his thrust, her cries of pleasure keeping him hard. "Yes ... oh, yes ... Oh, oh . . ."

He felt her reach up, holding herself tightly, intimately, against him, felt the great shudder of release that rippled through her, and then she fell back, as if she'd fainted. As she did, he felt his penis slip from her and gave a tiny groan. At once she reached for him and led him back inside her, then cradled his head against her with one hand, while the other smoothed his buttocks.

He let a shuddering sigh escape him, then closed his eyes, conscious of the hard length of his flesh within her, linking them, binding them as no words or ceremonies had ever managed.

If only it could always have been thus. But the flesh was weak, the warmth illusory.

They made love again, this time beneath the blankets, his face above hers, watching her, savoring each moment, using all his skills to bring her to her climax long before he let his seed flow into her.

"I had forgotten," he said afterward, facing her, his hands tracing the contours of her body. "All these years . . ."

She watched him lazily, like a cat, all of the hardness, the resentment, washed from her; purged, it seemed, by his lovemaking.

"Do you think . . ."he began, then sighed, shaking his head.

"You can always visit me," she said. "You could tie me up."

"Is that what you like?"She gave a soft grunt, then looked away. "You do not know the half of it, Li Yuan. The men I've known.

The years . . . ach! Each year has seemed like ten. Like those years I spent in exile in the floating palace, mourning your brother's death."

He sighed, pained by this insight into her. All these years he'd blamed and hated her; all these years he'd failed to see.

"I have been blind," he said. "I never understood, did I?"

"No." She looked back at him and smiled. "So what now, my husband?"

The words sent a strange thrill through him-a shock of recognition, of Tightness. He smiled, feeling as if it were the first true smile- the first honest, open smile-he'd ever given her.

"So now ... we start anew."

He reached out, drawing her up onto him, cradling her above him and kissing her.

"Once more and then I have to go. But I'll be back for you. I promise. We'll start again, Fei Yen, and damn the world. I'll divorce Pei K'ung and make Han Ch'in a prince. I'll set things right, I promise you. I'll make things better than they were."

Then, rolling her onto her back, he climbed above her and entered her again, feeling like an exiled king, returned into his kingdom.

"Fei Yen," he whispered, her movements matching his perfectly, Yin to his Yang. "My darling wife, Fei Yen."

TSU KUNG-CHIH was drunk. He stood there, red faced, facing his uncle's Master of the Inner Chambers, Hwa Kwei, and shouted angrily. "You incompetent fool! Can't you do anything right? I pay you a fortune and you mess things up! I mean, what now?"

He tore at his rich silks in anguish, then turned away sharply. Behind him the embarrassed Hwa, his head bowed, kept his silence. Tsu Kung-chih was right. He had failed miserably. Tsu Shu-sun was pregnant and he had failed to prevent it. His potions had made her sick, certainly, but still, somehow, she had conceived.

The prince turned, one foot up on the low wall that surrounded the inner courtyard and its shallow pool.

His disappointment was clear in his face. His sallow lips quivered and his eyes were moist, but he spoke more softly now, trying to control himself; struggling against the sudden impact of this news. He had learned of it only today-only an hour back. Tsu Ma had kept it from him until now. Shuddering, he looked at Hwa Kwei again. "Was it so difficult? You said it would be easy. You assured me." Hwa Kwei gave a small nod, then bowed lower. It should have been easy, but who could have known that Shu-sun would conceive on her wedding night? Who would have thought that Tsu Ma would change his mind and go to her?

Kung-chih glared at him a moment longer, then turned away, a noise of sheer exasperation escaping him.

He felt betrayed. It was as if his uncle had been toying with him. And though he had pretended otherwise, it was clear that Tsu Ma had enjoyed telling him the news. As if he didn't know what it meant to him.

He laughed bitterly and threw out his hand, dismissing the middle-aged servant. What good was it, trusting in others? No, this was something he would have to do himself.

He looked around. Hwa Kwei had gone. "Good riddance," he said softly. But the words did not begin toexpress the turbulence of what he had felt this last hour. Now, however-now that he was alone at last-one thing seemed to surface and rise above all others, vast, bloated, obscuring the rest in its dark and awful shadow. Tsu Ma had known! He had known all along! And Hwa Kwei ...

Tsu Kung-chih closed his eyes, a faint nausea overcoming him mo- mentarily. They had toyed with him. Played him likeaAh on a line. And now they would reel him in.

' 'No-oooh . . ."

Slowly he opened his eyes. No one had heard his cry of anguish. He turned and looked about him, making sure. But no, he was alone.

"What, then?" he said softly, talking to himself now. "Should I go to him and tell him what I've done? Go down on my knees before him and beg forgiveness?" He sighed, then shook his head. "No, I'll not do that. Not after what he's done to me."

Which left him but one choice. Smiling grimly he stared down at his reflection in the mirror of the pool.

"So be it, then."

LI YUAN swept down the grand corridor at Tongjiang, his entourage almost running to keep up with him, servants-surprised by the haste with which he came upon them-dropping quickly to their knees and lowering their heads as he rushed past. The T'ang was more than three hours late and had missed several important meetings.

As the doors to Nan Ho's study burst open, the Chancellor looked up from his desk, then hastily came around the desk and knelt before his Master.

"Chieh Hsia," he said, looking up at Li Yuan. "I am delighted to see you well. I was worried that something had happened."

Li Yuan waved the concern for his health aside, moving past his kneeling Chancellor to study the papers on his desk.

"What has been happening, Master Nan?"

Nan Ho got up slowly, and stepped to his Master's side. "Minister Chu is in the Eastern Palace being . .

. entertained, shall we say. The San Shih I saw myself. I felt it best not to keep them waiting, considering recent events."

Li Yuan nodded, yet he seemed distracted. "And the matter with Tsung Ye?"

Nan Ho blinked. "Tsung Ye?"

Li Yuan glanced at him. "He came to see you this morning, I understand. About the Empress's demands on him."

The old man's mouth opened, then closed again. He nodded.

"So what do you suggest, Master Nan? Should I have the young man castrated? Or should I make him a member of my Advisory Council?

After all, to find a man who is both a dedicated servant and yet a man of honor . . . that is not to be discarded lightly, neh?"Nan Ho's mouth worked without sound. He looked in shock. Finally he found the words. "I ... I did not know you knew, Chieh Hsia. I ... I have had him draw up a full confession. It is-"

Li Yuan shook the sheaf of papers at him. "I am reading it, Master Nan. An interesting document, neh?

One we could use, if we wished. . . ."

"Use, Chieh Hsia?"

There was an urgent knocking on the outer doors. Li Yuan looked to Nan Ho. "Are you expecting anyone, Master Nan?"

Nan Ho shook his head.

"Well ... we had best find out who wants us, neh?"

Master Nan bowed, then went across. Opening the door a crack, he exchanged a few words with his secretary, then turned back.

"It is General Rheinhardt, Chieh Hsia. He wishes to speak with you urgently."