Ying still sits completely alone sometimes in her room. It has closed windows, curtains tightly drawn over it. The golden threads interwoven with the multitude through the draperies glimmer dimly at the last of the setting sun day; but inside her mind, thought was darker than that closing sky.
Kept all thinking.
Her gesture-handsmaid silently twist the wrist. The most precise way of throwing that much powder. Like she had never done this before.
Crawled under her skin.
What if that wasn't the first time?
What if Miss Mei had previously taken in that?
Ying tried to shake off that thought but it just nagged her as if it were cold rain clinging to skin.
Too many questions, too few answers. Worst of all, no one else had seen what she had seen.
Slowly. On the stitches in the canopy over the bed passed her fingers while her ears kept up with every creak beyond her into the corridor. The shadows seem to have grown a little longer now. Silence weighs heavier.
It's strange, how fear moves in. Not loud or shouting-but soft, just like the powder itself. Slipping in, bit by bit.
She would imagine directly approaching and grabbing the hands of Miss Mei and saying, "I have seen her. I have seen what she did."
But already Ying could see the form of disbelief in Mei's eyes. Already he could hear the voice calm, disappointed: "The one with us who you mention is the handmaiden for quite a time. You, Ying, are new. Handle it prudently against such accusations."
No. Not that way; it's impossible.
Ying sat again, hands tightly folded into her lap.
There are things that aren't just said but shown.
Working it out would be providing protection for Miss Mei-if, in fact, the poison was meant for her.
But for catching the handmaiden in action.
Supplied by eyes watching.
Is what she would need, as would be the observation of meals.
Watch the times.
Watch those called for food first-and those not.
Now, Ying's heart beats a little faster-not with fear but an increasing sense of resolution.
She would wait.
And when the truth of it all came, all would be clear. No words to be spoken, just that pictures on the wall.
Because some lies can be talked but not undone.
And suppose your deduction was wrong?
No punishment would not be borne in that case.
Then who would witness it-if she was right?
Breaking into Early Evenings
The wheels of the carriage creaked to a gentle halt at the gravel path. A sudden puff of nighttime wind disturbed a few stray strands of Miss Mei's hair as the footman swung open the door. She alighted gracefully, her hem embroidered with silks brushing over the stone steps.
Sebastian quietly followed after. He offered the driver a slight nod before parting ways with her at the threshold.
With a gentleman's smile, he murmured, "The East Wing, as always."
"And you Guest Quarters," she replied, equally poised.
Nothing more needed to be said.
Miss Mei walked down corridors as though she belonged there in the voices of silence. Except tonight-across everything within that personal silence, something was gnawing at her, making the itch visible in the small of her mind.
She walked at precisely the moment when the candles lit up and then through the curtains across her room in preparation. And Ying did wait on a side table with her arms at rest actually.
"Ying," said Miss Mei, softening immediately, "let's take off these earrings; thank you for preparing the room."
A slight bow from Ying, along with those usual words she always goes through at such times.
Yet something... something... different.
There really never were those who ever appeared to see Miss Mei, and there was this twitched thing in there, fingers silent-twitching against her dress, like someone on the verge of articulation-but couldn't.
Mei narrowed the eyes.
"You are troubled," she simply said.
Ying blinked. "I... no, I-only a headache, Miss Mei. The air today-it was rather strong. The ride back gave me a bit of a turn."
Mei stepped closer, saying, "That's not the truth."
Ying flinched a little, finally lifting her eyes. "I promise I'm well, Miss Mei. Just... I was thinking about home, that's all."
Miss Mei held her gaze for another second longer. It extended the moment, uncomfortable and loaded.
Then she nodded. "Very well. You may rest early tonight."
"Thank you, my lady."
But long after Miss Mei turned away, Ying remained standing, eyes heavy with the thoughts she had swallowed.
Last he locked himself in that little room. The lamp with the batik cloth might be drinking soft orange light on those opened pages of reading. Just as he began the act of lying back, then-knock-knock.
At once, he was alert; his heart woke with quiet footsteps and knocks at the door. He opened the door to find a maid.
Not just any maid.
That same woman serving Sebastian as a guest.
As impassive as any seasoned professional, she said, "Sir Sebastian wishes to see you in the Guest Quarters."
Li Wei blinked, astounded. "At this time of night?"
Her silence answereed him: she nodded and moved away, footsteps cushioned by the fading sound of falling away.
Frowning, Li Wei hastily dressed and stepped out. Even dim lights were now in the Guest Quarters with greater stillness and colder than usual .He walked into the corridor eventually on arriving at Sebastian's room and softly knocking upon his door.
No answer.
He waited.
Then knocked with some degree of vigor.
Nothing again.
He tried one last time and this time pushed the door ajar slowly.
The air was filled with smells of perfume and wax.
But it was vacant.
Vacuum but for silence and an odd thing or two left behind. A note is folded with a wax seal on the center table.
Next to it lay what seemed like banknotes of old French banks-a little, aged but well-kept. Banque de France, 1900s, the writing said in elegant, fading ink.
Antique jewelry was next to them-silver cufflinks inlaid with sapphire, a pendant in the shape of a fleur-de-lis, and a gold brooch.
Li Wei stared down at the items, something creeping uneasily into his bones. Is Sebastian departing? Is he planning something?
He did not touch the notes.Wouldn't ever dare.
Instead, he stepped back, carefully closed the door behind him; and left.
Later that night, the sky's cooling color turned violet; and once more Li Wei found the time to rest on the floor. Back in the Guest Room, his thoughts drifted further into the past.
Knocking again nearly sent him into his dream before that profound-
Knock. Knock.
The eyes opened.
Another knock.
He arose; this time slowly. As he opened the door-
Her again.
The same maid.
Same expression, devoid of emotion.
But this time, there came a difference in her words.
"Miss Mei requests your presence. Now."
Nothing else.
No explanation.
Just that.
And with nothing else apt for the occasion, silence fell in the corridor; as shadows crawled upon the walls, Li Wei sensed that something pivoted.
He thought, "What does she want me for again? Maybe to apologize..."; could be...?; he wondered as he continued with no clear notion of what awaited him.l.