He bowed to his wife. "It is harvest," he said somewhat pompously. "Today we gather in the fruits of our labors."
Surreptitiously he slipped a few almonds into his mouth. He would miss Yuhan. Nevertheless his place at Court would be enhanced. His Majesty would not soon forget that in his hour of worry over the philanderings of Prince Shou, Yang Yuan-kuei stood at his elbow with calm suggestions. Through his efforts the cool breeze of peace had returned to His Majesty's sleeves.
He choked on an almond but his wife thumped him on the back and restored breath and dignity.
Meanwhile, with her three excited sisters, Yuhan was taking one final look at her room, the room that for so many years had guarded her sleep. It would know her no more. There were tears on her eyelids as she turned away, tears like jewels that illuminated the dark wonder of her eyes.
Before the arrival of the retinue of the Prince, formal parting speeches had been made.
No member of her family accompanied her to the chair. It might have given the impression that the Yangs were saddened by her going, as indeed they were. It was hard to lose a daughter whom they had cared for so devotedly even though she was to dwell in the Blue Lacquer Palace of the young Prince, on Frozen Pearl Lake.
Demurely, dressed in simple red garments, for red is the color of happiness, she walked down the marble
path to the entrance gate where the retinue waited. Her
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