The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 7 - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Dinner

Time does not always flow at the same rate. Pleasant times are all too brief, while difficult stretches drag on and on. The days before the banquet went as quick as a flash, for time is likewise swift when something unpleasant looms.

Maomao was emphatic that until the day of the event, she didn’t want to go to the strategist’s place unless absolutely necessary. Yao, meanwhile, was positively excited to have been entrusted to handle a job all by herself. She stayed at the shrine maiden’s villa for several days prior to the banquet, as requested by the shrine maiden herself, in order to get familiar with the kind of food she ate on a daily basis. Although the particulars of her diet had been carefully enumerated and reviewed, the woman wanted to be sure there would be no mistakes.

Maomao had been keen to sample the foreign food. She placed the blame squarely on the freak strategist for making her miss this chance.

Yao had never been a food taster before, so before she moved to the villa Maomao showed her the ropes. Yao was an eager student, taking plenty of notes. Maomao was confident she had gotten it all.

On the day of the banquet, they had to report for work an hour earlier than usual. Ugh. I don’t want to do this. How many times had Maomao had that thought? She’d lost count. She forced herself to change clothes, leaving her room only at the last possible moment. Even then, she didn’t go out of her way to look enthused about it.

“Oh, Maomao.”

“Well! Haven’t seen you for a while.”

Who should she meet in the hallway but En’en? The other woman hadn’t been sleeping in their dormitory since being assigned as Jinshi’s lady-in-waiting, but had a different place to stay. She was clearly fatigued, however, her gaze vacant, her lips dry. She swayed slightly as she walked, like a ghost.

Suffering from a lack of Yao? Maomao wondered.

“Maomao... Where’s the young mistress?”

“Oh, uh, Yao? She’s not here...”

At the news, En’en looked like a star had fallen out of the sky and hit her clean on the head. She stumbled over and leaned against the wall, gradually sliding down to the floor. She looked like she was melting, or like a snail that had been sprinkled with salt.

“Are you all right?” said Maomao. She clearly wasn’t, but it seemed polite to ask.

“Y-Young mistress...” was all En’en said.

She really is smitten. Maomao poked En’en a couple of times, unsure what to do. She didn’t want to go to work, but being late for personal reasons wouldn’t look good, so she couldn’t hang around here forever. “What are you up to? Don’t you have to work? I’m assuming you’re supposed to be with a certain someone all day today.”

En’en made a gurgling sound. “This was the only chance I had to slip away. The Moon Prince has a chief lady-in-waiting with eyes in the back of her head...”

“Ahh.” Maomao could sympathize.

The “Moon Prince” was Jinshi—he had a name, but as the Emperor’s younger brother, more or less only other members of the Imperial family were permitted to use it. Everyone else called him by a sobriquet. As for his chief lady-in-waiting, she was an aging woman named Suiren, and she was a taskmaster. Even En’en couldn’t get away from her.

“Won’t she be angry if you don’t hurry back?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right... It’s okay. I just wanted to be able to smell her from up close. To put up her hair properly. I just don’t want to do some guy’s hair, even if it is smooth and silken.”

So Jinshi is “some guy,” huh? Yet further testament to En’en’s devotion to her mistress. If En’en was being trusted to do Jinshi’s hair, though, that meant Suiren must like her a lot. As a point of interest, once Maomao had gotten settled in Jinshi’s service, she had been asked to do his hair on several occasions but had always refused on the grounds that she had never done such a thing before.

En’en heaved herself to her feet. She was still swaying as she began to walk away. Then she turned back toward Maomao as if she’d remembered something. “I never got to give you my answer to your letter...because of you-know-who.”

Send too many letters and they might start to think you were a spy. Being here like this was plenty suspicious already; if anyone started asking questions, Maomao would have to testify on En’en’s behalf.

“Thank you for taking the trouble,” Maomao said, accepting the letter from En’en. (This was the reply to the letter asking about how to deal with the shrine maiden’s condition, as En’en had seemed likely to have a good idea how to treat women’s illnesses.)

Maomao opened the letter to find her response was quite detailed. It mostly described treatments she was already familiar with, but also a few applications that surprised her. She was impressed.

Then she noticed one line in the middle of the letter. “Hey, this here...” She caught hold of En’en, who was once again stumbling her way back to work. “This part about hasma, is this true?”

After a second, En’en said, “Yes, it is.”

“And you still let Yao eat it?” (Yes, Maomao knew it was supposed to make a woman bigger.)

“I want Lady Yao to be beautiful,” En’en said. For a second the glow returned to her face, but she soon looked dead inside once more.

Maomao headed off to her own assignment, now with fresh pangs of sympathy for Yao.

Maomao didn’t know exactly what would happen prior to the dinner. There was going to be some kind of ceremony, but it had a lot of steps, and to be perfectly honest, she didn’t know what they all were. It took place in a separate area where only those directly involved were allowed. Maomao and others in her position simply had to wait, and she was most annoyed to have had to report for work an hour early if they were only going to make her stand around.

She considered going to gaze at the cabinets full of medicine, but then one of the doctors called for her. To her dismay, he needed a go-between.

“Take this over to the consorts,” he said. Banquets, garden parties, and similar events were some of the few opportunities the flowers of the rear palace had to go outside. It would be inappropriate to send a man as a messenger—and without Yao or En’en around, there was no one to go but Maomao.

When she looked at what she’d been given, she discovered sticks of incense. The medical office kept them on hand because, in fact, they had medicinal applications. The smoke helped keep bugs at bay, while the aroma had a calming effect on people.

“They want it to keep the mosquitoes away. The normal stuff was too smoky, I guess,” the doctor said. Normally, incense would be much too luxurious to use simply to stop some insects; it was typical to burn tree branches that had insect-repellent qualities. Even ordinary smoke would help somewhat, but it would certainly be, well, smoky.

“I wonder which august lady could have made such a demand,” Maomao said.

“Ahh, it was the new one. You know, the foreigner.”

That surprised Maomao somewhat. We haven’t made a proper report to her yet—about the shrine maiden’s secret. Did she really bear a baby girl? It seemed she might go home before they ever learned the truth.

“Being from Shaoh, I guess it doesn’t matter if she’s new here. She gets to be at the banquet anyway. Whatever, give some of the incense to all the consorts, and make sure you do it in the right order.” The doctor gave Maomao a list of all the consorts in attendance and showed her a map of where they each were in their building. Empress Gyokuyou was in attendance, of course, as was High Consort Lihua. Aylin was one of three middle consorts present. Scary company if you made a mistake about the proper order in which to distribute the incense.

I have to say, though, Shaoh’s power politics don’t make much sense to me, Maomao thought as she went on her errand. Aylin’s a political refugee, and Ayla is her political enemy, yet Aylin wants to get leverage over the shrine maiden in order to force the shrine maiden to help her. That, at least, was Maomao’s best understanding of the situation. She was curious, but she knew that sticking her nose in was a good way to lose her head. The most she could do was stay quiet, listen carefully, and try to bail out if things started to get too dangerous.

Each of the consorts had been given her own room in which to rest and prepare. Only Empress Gyokuyou was waiting in an entirely different place. Maomao surmised that it would be proper to give the incense to Consort Lihua first, but she seemed likely to want to have a long conversation. Instead, Maomao waited outside Lihua’s room for any ladies-in-waiting she knew to go by. Lihua’s less helpful ladies had all been let go, but the ones who were left still looked at Maomao with a distinct fear in their eyes, and she wished they would stop.

So she distributed the incense one person after another until she arrived at Aylin’s room. There, she took a sniff. That’s odd. Even from outside, she could already smell incense within. She knocked on the door.

“Please, come in,” said Aylin. Her voice was unmistakable. Maomao opened the door to discover she was alone, with no ladies or attendants. She was pressing something to her chest. As Maomao got closer, the smell grew somewhat more noticeable.

“I’ve brought your mosquito repellent,” she said.

“My thanks. Would you be so kind as to leave it there? My lady-in-waiting just stepped out.”

Needed to use the toilet, perhaps? The consort’s lady was there as much to watch her as to wait on her, but she must have thought it was safe to leave Aylin alone for a moment. The room had a single small window and only one door, and there was a guard outside.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” Maomao said, and was about to leave when Aylin took her sleeve. “Y-Yes?” said Maomao.

“You’ve been to see the honored shrine maiden, haven’t you? How does she look?”

Hoo boy. How am I supposed to answer that? Maomao thought, but it only took her a second to decide to simply tell the truth. “She shows no sign of fatigue from her journey. As for her illness, we’re examining her as thoroughly as we can. You need not worry yourself on that account.”

It was such a banal answer that even Maomao could have chuckled. The consort might act solicitous, but Maomao knew perfectly well that she was trying to put her finger on the shrine maiden’s weakness. She’s a fine actor. If Maomao hadn’t been privy to Aylin’s secret request, she might well have been convinced that the woman was really worried. Her pallor isn’t very good...

“Is it possible you’re feeling indisposed yourself, milady?” Maomao asked. She hadn’t quite meant to. It was an occupational hazard.

Aylin’s eyes widened. “Goodness, do I look ill? I admit I’ve been somewhat nervous with this banquet coming.”

“If you’ve no particular complaint, well and good,” Maomao said. She had no reason to press further.

“Yes. All’s well,” Aylin said, but she almost seemed to be talking to herself, and there was a distant look in her eyes. Only for a second, though; she quickly focused again on Maomao. “Thank you. I’d heard that among all the court ladies, you were exceptional. I hope for much from you.”

No pressure, then. Aylin leaned forward, and the smell grew stronger again.

Seriously, what is that? Maomao wondered. She was still wondering as she left Aylin’s room. That clinging scent...

The smell wasn’t the only thing that seemed to hang in the air. Questions about Shaoh nagged at her. She thought she had several of the clues she needed, but it wasn’t enough yet to reach an answer. There were still a few more pieces of this puzzle to be found.

I’m sure my old man would have figured it out ages ago. She sighed in dismay at her own inexperience and made her way back to the medical office.

In theory, a formal dinner should be a pleasant activity passed in ease and relaxation. Not so in high society.

The middle of the room was dominated by a single long table with chairs along either side and another table at the head. The Emperor and Empress sat at the far end, along with Jinshi and the shrine maiden, their invited guest. She wore a veil to protect her from the sun.

There were dignitaries from other countries attending the formal dinner as well, but most of them were from vassal states, and they were treated like it. Most of the rest of the crowd lined the long table. Seating order was much the same as it had been at the garden parties, the difference being that this time they were indoors and had chairs to sit on.

Maomao stood by the wall, making an I hope this will be over soon face. She could see that most of the food tasters were attending the Emperor, the guests, and the consorts. The really important people.

He doesn’t need his own food taster, she thought, watching the freak strategist from behind and resisting the urge to vomit. He was of medium build, slightly hunched. Other than his monocle, he was a plain man with little to distinguish him from anyone else you might meet. Strange to think he was a commander of the nation’s army.

For the most part, even that title was as much honorary as anything. His official station was Grand Commandant, but Maomao didn’t know what that entailed. All she knew was that his seat indicated that it was a position of quite high status indeed.

If he thought he’d need a food taster, why did he even bother to come?

The faces of those around the strategist suggested they were thinking the same thing. For when the old fart got bored, he would distract himself by playing little pranks on people nearby. That was why no one complained when he missed garden parties and other important functions; having him there was no better.

The freak appeared to get bored very quickly on this occasion and started whispering to the man beside him, who looked like a soldier. Maomao glowered at him and tugged on a cloth she was holding. The cloth was attached to a string which was tied around the freak’s ankle. Each time she pulled on it, he flinched in his seat. He would look back, an expression of bliss would cross his face, and he would sit up straight again. Maomao had heard of leading someone around by the nose, but leading them around by the ankle—that was new to her.

It made her skin crawl to have him keep glancing at her, but that was how the game was going to be played today. Lahan, the skinflint, hadn’t wanted to pay for someone else to babysit the strategist at the formal dinner; he told Maomao to do it on top of her food tasting duties. Not that she cared what he wanted, but her old man had added his personal request, and even said he would give her some unusual medicine in exchange, something from abroad.

So it was that they had ended up putting a string on the freak’s ankle like mice putting a bell on a cat. Maomao couldn’t shake the sense that people were giving them strange looks, but she contented herself with the assumption that the looks were for the freak. Since nobody was audacious enough to say anything, she didn’t let it bother her.

Somehow, food is never actually the first order of business at a formal dinner. Other things always have to happen before you can eat. Unlike the outdoor garden party, there were no wild sword dances, but they did get to hear some nice music. It sounded vaguely “foreign.” Maybe the musicians were trying to make the performance sound Shaohnese.

“This song was written about the shrine maiden,” she was informed by Lahan, who sidled up to her. “Consort Aylin wrote it herself. With a modicum of help from a professional songwriter, but still. Not a bad piece of work.”

“The consort wrote this?” Maomao said and glanced toward Aylin. The foreign woman sat among the other middle consorts, smiling as she listened to the music.

“I know things may be complicated between them now, but I believe the consort is grateful to the shrine maiden,” Lahan said. “Consort Aylin says that when she was an apprentice, the shrine maiden ensured she received a proper education. You may know some women in Shaoh find themselves married off even earlier than they do here.”

Yes, Maomao had heard something like that, rumors that the people of the sand sometimes took brides who were barely ten years old.

“And a girl with no education can’t even run away from the marriage she’s sent into.”

“True enough.”

It happened in Li as well: women unable to escape their husbands, no matter how cruel they were, for if they left their marriages, there would be no work that they could do. Eventually someone would hoodwink them and sell them to a brothel.

Maomao believed ignorance was a sin. Yet she knew that knowledge wasn’t given equally to all. If her old man hadn’t educated her himself, she would have wound up serving patrons in the Verdigris House. Likewise, Aylin had received an education from the shrine maiden. She could have simply viewed it as her due, but instead she was grateful for it. And she still finds herself trying to exploit the shrine maiden’s weaknesses. I guess gratitude doesn’t make the world any less cruel. Maomao sighed.

It appeared the strategist had no interest in the music, for he had pulled a book about Go from the folds of his robe and started reading. Maomao tugged the string again. He would be lucky if the Emperor didn’t see fit to put the next string around his neck.

Then some self-important person gave a self-important speech, and finally the food started. En’en stood just behind Jinshi. He might have wished Suiren were attending him instead, but this was probably her doing: she’d seen that most of the ladies-in-waiting were young things, and taken that as her cue to let En’en do the job.

At least it means En’en’s getting along all right, Maomao thought. She couldn’t pretend to be completely disinterested. En’en, meanwhile, kept stealing glances to one side—specifically, the side on which the shrine maiden sat. For as Jinshi had En’en to attend him, the shrine maiden had Yao. Yao looked pale. Nerves, maybe.

The sight of Yao somewhat brightened En’en’s deathly pallor of that morning, but she still needed more of her young mistress. She was looking around, clearly hoping the formal dinner would end soon. She was worried about Yao’s bad color.

Maomao couldn’t help being amused by the thought that they’d tested and trained to become medical assistants, yet all three of them were standing here as food tasters, a station normally occupied by the lowborn and the expendable. Yao at least was from better stock than that; Maomao was surprised—one might even say worried—that her parents hadn’t interceded to prevent this assignment.

At least I got to teach her the basics, she thought. No matter how well you knew what you were doing, though, things could and eventually would go pear-shaped as a food taster. A new poison would show up, or you’d ingest some slow-acting toxin. I guess everyone goes when it’s their time. It was as simple as that. If Maomao was going to die, she hoped she could do it sampling some new kind of poison. Especially if she lasted long enough to savor its effects before expiring. Maybe that was being greedy. But a girl could dream.

The first course arrived. Maomao took the small plate with the food taster’s sample on it. She could feel the strategist watching her. She just hoped the tasting would be uneventful so they could get on with the meal.

They did indeed get on with things, and the formal dinner was soon over. Next would be the banquet. This perplexed and annoyed Maomao, who had no idea what the difference was. The latter evidently meant moving somewhere else and involved fewer people. Yao and En’en would be on duty again, but Maomao was done for the day. An excellent reason to leave the room and divest herself of her strategist.

As she was about to do just that, though, there was a crash. She turned to discover a court lady collapsed on the ground. It was Yao.

“Mistress!” En’en cried, diving for her. She tried to prop Yao up. Maomao threw her string away and went over. Yao was pitched forward, the floor covered with vomit. Other court ladies nearby started screaming. Someone was shrieking about the insolence of retching in front of so many extremely important people. Which was to say, someone was not seeing the real problem here.

“Mistress! Mistress!” En’en yelled, shaking Yao’s shoulders and slapping her cheeks.

“Make sure none of it is still in her mouth!” Maomao commanded. “If it lodges in her throat, she could suffocate!”

“Right,” said En’en, getting herself under control enough to plunge a finger into Yao’s mouth. The other woman appeared to be breathing, but she was trembling and holding her stomach, and her pupils were dilated.

If Yao’s collapsed... Then what had happened to the shrine maiden? A crowd had already formed around her. The other woman who had been on tasting duty for her with Yao was white as a sheet and not looking very steady on her feet. She moved away, her hands pressed to her mouth, and the shrine maiden left as well.

So they were poisoned too. Maomao laid a blanket over the trembling Yao. En’en kept wailing “Mistress, Mistress!” She was as pale as any of the poisoned women. “Water! Saltwater! And... And...!”

Maomao pulled En’en off of Yao. They didn’t know what kind of poison they were dealing with, so the best they could do was to try to empty the contents of her stomach. Maomao shoved a finger down Yao’s throat, trying to induce further vomiting, but then an old man hobbled up. “Maomao, En’en. Let me handle this.”

It was her old man, carrying a carafe and a bucket. He also had another blanket, which he used to support Yao’s hips. If there was stomach pain and vomiting, there was a good chance diarrhea would be present as well. The blanket was his little kindness, a way of making it less obvious if she fouled herself.

“You need to tend to the shrine maiden,” Luomen said. “I can take care of Yao.” He tugged on the string Maomao had abandoned, drawing the attention of the freak strategist, who’d been simply standing. “Bring me some charcoal, would you? Powdered in a mortar, if possible. And get some rooms ready, somewhere we can examine these young ladies and the shrine maiden. I trust you can do that much, Lakan.”

“Yes, of course, Uncle. I’ll prepare them right away.” It was the strategist who answered, but it was his subordinates who jumped into action. It was faster to have the strategist give the orders than Luomen trying to get people to listen to him himself.

“Take care of Yao, Pops,” Maomao said, and then she made her way over to the shrine maiden.