Sharon Shinn - Gateway

“BREAKFAST” WAS A misnomer, Daiyu thought two days later as she and Xiang left for the event shortly after noon. They’d already eaten one meal, and Daiyu was pretty sure Xiang had found time for another snack while Daiyu was having ropes of gold braid woven into her hair.

She actually welcomed the driver’s assistance as they climbed into the car, since her stiffly pressed and heavily embroidered clothing made it hard to bend her knees and elbows. The air outside was thick with humidity and hot as any July day in St. Louis, which made her devoutly hope that they didn’t have to travel far or her carefully assembled outfit would be accented by streaks of sweat. She was grateful to see a stretched canvas cloth providing a roof over the open vehicle, but it couldn’t compare to air-conditioning running at full blast.

Xiang frowned at Daiyu for the entire ten minutes of the ride. “I wonder if I was too eager,” she mused aloud. “I wonder if this is too soon.”

“I will try to behave appropriately, Mistress.”

“Just keep your eyes lowered and say as little as possible.”

The car pulled up before a house that was as grand as Xiang’s, joining a long line of similar cars depositing an elegantly clad congregation on the street. Daiyu kept her head modestly tilted down but tried to take in as much as she could. Friends met each other with exclamations and embraces; acquaintances were more reserved, extending one or both palms to press against the other person’s. No one came up to hug Xiang, Daiyu noticed, though everyone nodded at her and quite a few lifted their palms for her to touch as she and Daiyu walked by.

Everyone stared at Daiyu with frank interest and then turned to whisper something to whomever was standing closest.

They were among the first to step inside, and Daiyu looked around quickly. This house was sunnier than Xiang’s and a little less cluttered; some kind of flowering plant brightened the front hall and showered sweetness through the air. Her immediate first impression was of an atrium, and the impression didn’t fade as a servant led them through long, open hallways festooned with more greenery and filled with more light. The sun beating through the glass might cook her alive, she thought, but the visual impression was one of airy beauty.

A woman hurried forward to meet them, her hands outstretched, her face alight with pleasure. She was about Xiang’s age and Daiyu’s height, dressed all in a royal blue that was spattered with bits of silver.

“Xiang!” she exclaimed, and was bold enough to give the other woman a hug. “You have come after all! And, look, you have brought your niece. What a pretty girl!”

“She might not be entirely worthless,” Xiang said. “I thought I would see how well she performs here among friends.”

“I am Mei,” the other woman said, turning to address Daiyu, her hand outstretched. Daiyu pressed her hand to Mei’s and quickly dropped it. “What is your name?”

“Daiyu, Mistress.”

“How long have you been in the city, Daiyu?”

“Only a few days.”

Mei seemed to be listening closely. “Her accent is strange,” she said to Xiang. “But not unpleasant. I assume you chose her ensemble? A magnificent job, as always. Your taste is reliably exquisite.”

Xiang waved a dismissive hand. “This is just something we were able to find in the closets. I assure you, she will be much better attired at the Presentation Ball.”

On these words the rest of the guests began to filter in, still laughing and talking among themselves, still eyeing Daiyu with undisguised curiosity. About a third of the guests were older women, she noticed now-women about Xiang’s age and with the same air of affluence and arrogance. She supposed these were the women who wielded the most power in Shenglang, the ones she would have to be careful not to offend. Daiyu kept her expression pleasant, offering sweet smile swhen any of these women spoke to her and thanking them quietly for any kindness they displayed.

The balance of the company was a mix of men and women of varying ages, though there were few older men. The young men all clumped together, greeting one another with rude familiarity and laughing easily, seeming to take little notice of anyone else in the room. But Daiyu, watching covertly, saw them scanning the ranks of the pretty young women, who mostly stood passively beside their mothers. Now and then, when one of these girls caught a young man’s eye, he nodded a greeting or flashed a smile. Several of the young men watched Daiyu with an open appraisal. She supposed strangers might be novelties in this rarefied society-or maybe what was rare was Xiang’s sponsorship of a poor relation.

Xiang kept Daiyu close to her side and only introduced her to a few people, glaring so meaningfully at Daiyu that she had little incentive to say much. Still, she could tell the reaction to her was mostly positive, and Xiang started to relax a little.

“Shall we sit down to eat?” Mei said after there had been about twenty minutes of this aimless chatter.

“Where’s Chenglei?” an older woman asked.

“He has been detained, but he will be here as soon as he can,” Mei promised. “He told us not to wait.”

The whole group moved into a sunny dining room in a glassed-in conservatory. Xiang, Daiyu, Mei, and six others sat at a table in the center of the room. Daiyu was placed between Xiang and a man who might be in his fifties-certainly old enough that she knew to respect the prohibition against initiating conversation. He had no interest in talking to her, at any rate; he sat with his back half turned to her and spoke with great intensity to the couple on his left. Something about immigrants and insufficient laws. She didn’t catch it all and she didn’t really care.

Xiang didn’t speak to her either, so Daiyu concentrated on her meal, taking small portions and watching Mei whenever she wasn’t sure how to handle a glass or an eating implement. The food was more highly spiced than the dishes she’d had at Xiang’s and she didn’t like it as much, but all around her she heard people complimenting the taste, the texture, the creative combinations.

The breakfast plates had been cleared away and servants were bringing in trays of the inevitable chocolate, when there was a murmur of excitement and Daiyu glanced up to see Chenglei striding in. He smiled generally at the room, nodded directly at Mei, but then did a curious thing. He stopped at the very first table-the one nearest the door, the one where even Daiyu could tell the least important guests were relegated-and paused to exchange a few words with the people sitting there. They beamed up at him, extending their hands for him to press, and a few came to their feet to greet him. He spoke to everyone at the table, even if briefly, before moving on to the next group at the adjoining table. Everyone in the first group was left smiling at his attention.

Mei leaned forward to address Xiang. “Such a handsome man! That perfect streak in his hair!” she murmured, though everyone at the table could hear her. “I sometimes think, if I were not so much older-”

It was clearly a joke, and everyone laughed lightly, except the man next to Daiyu, who frowned. “He is brilliant, which matters much more than his beauty,” he said.

“Part of his brilliance is that he knows how to exploit his beauty,” Xiang said dryly.

“I will concede that he has both, and I admire him for each,” Meireplied.

Chenglei continued to work his way around the room, still smiling, still pressing palm to palm. Mei had motioned a servant over and ordered a clean plate to be brought to her table for the prime minister. A plain-featured woman who had said almost nothing during the meal rose to her feet and excused herself, quietly stepping out of the room. Daiyu was fascinated. She remembered that Xiang had told her the number of guests at an event must always be divisible by nine. Had there been extra members of Mei’s household dressed and ready to fill any open places at the tables? For instance, if Xiang and Daiyu had not arrived, might there have been another young girl and perhaps a tired old man who would have been invited to partake of the breakfast in their places?