Her Rebel Highness (Daughters of the Dynasty) , livre ebook

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168 pages

English

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An epic story of love and betrayal set against the backdrop of the Tiananmen Square protestsIn Heiress Apparently, Gemma Huang's big acting break led her to Beijing, where she uncovered an incredible family secret. This second novel in the Daughters of the Dynasty series delves further into Gemma's complex and storied legacy, moving back one generation to tell the story of Gemma's mother, Lei, as she finds love against the backdrop of 1980s China and the Tiananmen Square protests and makes a difficult decision that forever alters the course of her life.

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Publié par	ABRAMS BOOKS
Date de parution	29 mars 2022
Nombre de lectures	1
EAN13	9781647000882
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0777€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Images are used courtesy of the following: Cover and page ii, center image, Mercedes deBellard; center image background, aphotostory/Shutterstock; bottom left, JayKay57 (Getty/157473098). Page iii, clockwise from top left: Portrait of a seated woman, Portrait of a Chinese aristocrat of Canton, both courtesy Musee des Arts Asiatiques-Guimet, RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, New York; Mercedes deBellard; Qianlong; Yongzheng (courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art).
PUBLISHER S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-4197-4998-8 eISBN 978-1-6470-0088-2
Text copyright 2022 Abrams
Book design by Chelsea Hunter
Published in 2022 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact specialsales@abramsbooks.com or the address below.
Amulet Books is a registered trademark of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
ABRAMS The Art of Books 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007 abramsbooks.com
To all the activists fighting for democracy and social justice
PROLOGUE
Luoyang, Eastern Capital of the Tang Dynasty, Seventh Century
Who is she? The strange girl, a little older than Princess Taiping, is wearing a plain gray tunic, her back ramrod straight like she knows Taiping is watching her. Even her short, ragged hair seems stiff and tense as she disappears into the artist studio behind Wan er.
Wan er exits and comes to Taiping after escorting the girl into the Illustrious Artist s presence. The Illustrious Artist has a name, but Taiping can t remember it. Her royal mother told her when she commissioned the portrait, but then Wan er came up with the Illustrious Artist nickname, and now she can t, for the life of her, remember the actual name.
Wan er probably knows. There isn t much Taiping s best friend, secretary to the empress, doesn t know. For instance, she knew that Empress Wu had bestowed a priceless gift-a gift only the most exalted in the empire could hope to receive, and one that even Taiping s older brothers have not received-on Taiping, her only daughter: the invitation to sit for a portrait. And now the empress has given this unheard-of gift to a commonplace girl with no connections. What reason could there be for so great an honor? The only possible explanation is that this girl must be an artist of some kind. Her mother loves supporting female artists. Too bad I don t have an artistic bone in my body.
Princess Taiping, Wan er says slyly, you re early for your sitting. Two hours early.
Taiping rolls her eyes, because of course Wan er knew nothing would keep her away. She s never met a secret that she didn t need to uncover. And a secret to do with the empress, her mother? Impossible to resist. Who is she? Taiping demands.
Wan er narrows her eyes. Believe it or not, I don t know.
Then find out.
I don t know if that s possible.
Taiping snorts in a decidedly un-princess-like way. That s hard to believe. You can do anything. Three years ago, Wan er was a palace slave. She should have been raised to be a lady, but both she and her mother had been condemned to slavery for her grandfather s treason against the empire. But then Taiping s mother discovered one of Wan er s poems and was so impressed that she decided to test Wan er further. The empress asked her to write an essay on the spot, and she performed so beautifully that the empress named Wan er as her personal secretary. She was only thirteen at the time, the same age Taiping was.
Wan er laughs. Anything but pry a secret from your mother.
Well, if anyone could, it would be you. My mother thinks the world of you. You d think Taiping would be jealous. Actually, when Wan er was first promoted to royal secretary, she was jealous. Taiping s essay writing is competent but not gifted. And her poetry? The less said about that, the better. But Wan er is so luminous and spirited that no one can resist her charm. And her elevation in station three years ago meant that finally there was a girl in the palace with a high enough status to be a companion to a princess. Since then, they have been inseparable.
Except now they are to be separated.
Wan er steps closer to her. Forget the new girl. She s not important. I d rather focus on getting you out of this marriage.
Taiping s heart goes cold. The empress wants to make a political alliance by marrying Taiping to her cousin, and no amount of tears or tantrums will change her mother s mind. Officially, it s Father who arranged for the engagement, but everyone knows who the real power behind the throne is. These days, her father, Emperor Gaozong, doesn t even physically sit on the throne anymore. He just lies in bed and lets Mother make the decisions. Like this one to marry Taiping off to her cousin.
From what she knows of him, Shao isn t a bad sort. But it would mean leaving Wan er with her quick wit and bright eyes.
Dread squeezes Taiping s body. I ll run off to the Taiping Temple before I marry Shao! A few years ago, her mother named a Taoist temple after Taiping and made her the abbess just to have an excuse for refusing an offer of marriage. So why is her mother pushing this marriage with Shao now?
Wan er shakes her head. We both know you re the temple s abbess in name only. How many times have you actually been there?
She thinks of the cool bamboo floors under her feet and the laughter of girls floating through rice-paper walls as they debated politics and read Taoist scriptures aloud to each other. Enough times. Enough to know that the temple could never shelter her from her mother s will. Enough to know that warmth and peace could never be hers. But that s fine. Because Wan er is here. As long as Taiping has her, she doesn t mind losing the temple.
Echoing her thoughts, Wan er says, Besides, running off to a temple means leaving me .
You could come with me, she says suggestively.
Your mother would never let me go. I am her right hand. Wan er says this with a mixture of resignation and pride. But if Taiping knows her-and she does-it s mostly pride.
Then Wan er clasps her hand, and a thrill goes through Taiping at the feel of Wan er s blunt fingers on hers. With her heavy build and square jaw, Wan er is a great beauty, though her looks are inferior to Taiping s-or so the courtiers say. It s true that Taiping takes after her mother, whose strong features and ample body are considered the ideal of beauty. But she thinks Wan er is even more beautiful. It s the wicked intelligence in her eyes, the way her whole face lights up with mischief. Or passion.
A smile spreads over Taiping s face as she looks toward the beaded curtain. Wan er isn t the only mischievous one. I don t want to be late for my sitting, she says innocently as she smooths down the heavy brocade of her yellow gown.
Wan er doesn t bother to point out again that Taiping s sitting isn t for another two hours. She just shakes her head. Your curiosity is going to get you in serious trouble one day.
She s one to talk, Taiping thinks. Wan er is already following her.
Taiping slides open the wooden lattice door, and two faces turn toward her. The girl s face is steady and composed, but the young artist s face is pale and shocked. Both incline their heads.
Princess, the artist exclaims, head still bowed. Forgive me, but I did not think it was time for your sitting.
A twinge of guilt hits Taiping. Even bright young artists worry about offending royalty. It s not time yet, she says reassuringly. I m just satisfying my curiosity. Her eyes are already drifting to the mystery girl.
The girl s head is also inclined, but that head looks drastically different from how it did before. She s wearing a wig, intricately arranged with jeweled hair pins and precious strings of glittery beads. And her gray tunic has been replaced by a red dress embroidered with peonies, a blue-green sash, and a matching filmy scarf around her shoulders. But her high-court outfit isn t the worst offense. Hot anger rises in Taiping at the sight of a blank parchment spread before her on a low table. And she has a quill in her hand. How dare this common girl pretend to the accomplishments of the ladies of the high court?
The girl raises her head, and whatever she sees on Taiping s face makes her put the quill down. Princess.
Your name? Taiping asks coldly. In her heart, she knows she s not being fair. But it s one thing to share her mother s favor with Wan er and a different thing completely for a stranger to walk in and take the place of a princess. Her place.
My name is Si. She inclines her head again, and Taiping can t help but notice how gracefully she does it. The girl is not classically beautiful. She s slight, with a face too delicate for beauty, and she certainly doesn t have Wan er s lively charm. But the watchful intensity on her face is interesting.
No family name? Wan er asks.
No, my lady. Si doesn t offer any other information.
Taiping eyes the elaborate wig pinned to those short, uneven strands. Her hair looks like it s growing out, and it makes Taiping wonder if Si is a former nun. Unlike Taoist nuns, Buddhist nuns are required to shave their heads. What temple do you come from?
Ganye Temple.
A chill creeps over Taiping. That was where her mother, a consort to Emperor Ta