6.
Lady T'ai Chên returned from her mountain retreat in all the regal splendor of an Empress, guarded by soldiers carrying gleaming spears. They rode in ornate chariots, drawn by magnificent white horses with hoofs of silver. Accompanying mounted troops bore banners upon which, boldly embroidered, was the figure of a dragon on a background of yellow. An elephant, sure of foot, carried the palanquin in which the lady languorously reclined. The air was pungent with sandalwood and musk, and the faint echo of mysterious intoxicating spices. At last in the eyes of the Emperor she was precious, like ivory, white jade or pearls. He hungered for her, and the hunger of a man for a beloved woman is a force strong enough to cause a throne to tremble. Yes, the Emperor hungered for her. She held up one graceful slender hand, small fingernails reddened by balsam flowers. She smiled. He would not be disappointed.
Meanwhile in the Palace gardens the Emperor waited. His impatience was hard to curb even though he knew their ritual of penitent separation was so soon to end.
In delectable contemplation, he murmured, "The choicest bud, unblossomed, exhales no sweets."
It was slightly understatement. For she was like a blossom unfolded in all its glory, fragrance and power.
That night at the Palace red candles burned.
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