"Kindly unhand me, sir." My Chinese accent is atrocious. My embarrassment regarding my accent and even my trip is drowned out by something far stronger: he's way too good-looking. Blood rushes to my face, and I can practically hear the hiss of steam escaping my ears. The çarsef is my one saving grace. Woven from semi-translucent crimson silk and with embroidery woven from gold thread, the çarsef lies thickly across my face, thankfully concealing my blush.
It takes a second for the man to react to my request. A mischievous glint passes through his bronze eyes and a smile tugs the edge of his lips. "As you wish, Your Highness." Suddenly, there is only air beneath me. The man steps back, doing a magician's sweeping bow as I land unceremoniously on my ass. The inn is completely still for a second. Then, chaos. My guards unsheathe their weapons, their instinct overpowering their fear. Fatima moves to check on whether or not the goods, me, have been damaged. The man simply chuckles.
"Stop!" One of the few words I know in Persian, delivered with a volume and forcefulness that I picked up in the legions. The man's laugh trails off as the room freezes. Nine pairs of eyes bore into me. Rising in a single swift motion, I give a dismissive flick of my wrist. My guards hesitatingly sheathe their sabers, wary of the man but also reassured to be given orders, a trait shared by all soldiers. After the last of them sheathe their blades, I sit down calmly, acting as if nothing had happened. I give the man a look which asks, "Why are you still standing?" Smiling, he sits down across from me, a slight smirk across his flawless face.
We sit across from each other, staring. Neither one of us wants to be the first to break eye contact. After an eternity, the innkeeper breaks the silence, kneeling by the table to serve light refreshments. The earthy smell of baked peanuts wafts through the air causing both of us to reach for the bowl at the same time. I get there first and put my hand over the entire bowl, pulling it back to my side of the table in the process. His eyes sparkle and a smile tugs at the edge of his lips.
"So, what must I do to get some peanuts?" The man asks, belatedly adding "Your Highness." His voice is surprisingly high, lacking the deep baritone I was expecting. His tone is sweet but not obsequious, a man capable of eloquent, flowery speech but one who prefers not to use it. His words ring out playfully but with a condescending undertone like a dog chasing its tail to fool you. But underneath it all is steel; a hard resolve which is representative of a wealth of experience.
The initial pitch of his voice throws me off and it takes a second for me to reply. "How about your name, sir?"
"Ma Guanxi, newly appointed Imperial Protector of the Silk Road, greets Your Highness."
Roasted Peanuts: Sometimes called wok-fried peanuts. Sautéed with salt and sometimes small dried fish. YUM. Need I say more?
In China, the family surname comes first, so in a western style, Ma Guanxi => Guanxi Ma
Imperial Protector of the Silk Road: A (fictional) military title granted by the Son of Heaven, the Emperor, the Imperial Protector of the Silk Road holds supreme military authority over the Han forces along the Silk Road. The Imperial Protector's primary task is to ensure trade passes through the Silk Road unmolested. They are also in charge maintain a log of all foreigners who enter the Han Empire, a glorified immigration official if you will.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
The Foreign Empress
Tarihi KurguA cold and potentially fatal marriage, an imperial court embroiled in assassination and conflict, a hidden conspiracy that could shatter not just a four-century-long peace but the empire itself. In the midst of it all, a girl whose struggle to survi...
