The Emperor's Daughter

By J.R. McGinnity

Lakshmi has lived in the palace since the age of five. She grew up among riches and now, as a concubine, the riches are hers to enjoy. Others in the palace envy the luxuries that the emperor's favorite concubine is lavished with, but they don't know Lakshmi's secret. Her position as a concubine is a façade, and when new arrivals to the palace begin to pose possible threats, she must choose between protecting one that she loves or fulfilling her duty to guard the emperor.

This novel by J.R. McGinnity features her signature strong female lead, a woman who must do her job while keeping track of the secrets and lies that have shaped her life since the moment she was born.

Epic Fantasy. Secret Missions. High Stakes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R. McGinnity
• Release date: Dec 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370320554

J.R. McGinnity

My name is J.R. McGinnity, I am a former English teacher with a passion for writing fantasy novels with strong female leads. My time is spent immersed in books (reading or writing), hiking when the Midwest weather allows, and watching seasons of old TV shows.

Book preview

J.R. McGinnity

The Emperor’s Daughter

Copyright © 2013 by J.R. McGinnity and Green Dale Publishing

jrmcginnity.com

Published by Green Dale Publishing

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be

reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express

written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief

quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are a

product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any person,

living or dead, is coincidental.

Table of contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter SeventeenChapter One

Lakshmi brushed her long black hair until it shone under the light of the lamp hanging in her room. She studied her reflection in the mirror she had been given the year before. It was one of the finest in the palace, with no bubbles to mar the surface. The mirror was exquisite for its size, and reflected her even complexion back at her.

As a palace concubine, the gifts she was given were as much a mark of her value to the emperor as the time she spent with him. And she spent more time with him than most.

Satisfied with her hair, she went to her wardrobe and selected the day’s clothes. Lakshmi selected dusky red pantaloons and a billowy, nearly see-through blouse of the same color over startling black. A black net with gold settings went over her hair, and a thin veil hid lips painted the same color as her clothes. Set as it was just above her nose, it revealed rich brown eyes accented with bold black lines from the kohl she had smudged there.

She was going to leave the palace, and it wouldn’t do to go unprepared. Lakshmi had learned at a young age that it was important to always present herself as she wanted to be perceived. Growing up in court had taught her how to do that, and it was second nature now, nearly instinctual.

Lakshmi gave herself one last look-over in the treasured mirror before leaving her room. There were guards stationed just a door down from hers—they waited outside of the emperor’s door—and she gave them a nod and a coy smile that they just might see under her diaphanous veil, but surely could see reflected in her liquid brown eyes.

The guards stood straighter, puffing out their chests, and Lakshmi almost laughed. They were young and new to guarding the emperor’s private quarters. Dealing with the concubines so closely was still a novel concept.

She dismissed the guards as unimportant as she made her way down the corridor, hardly noticing the ornate runner that covered the marble floor. The emperor made sure that his palace lacked for nothing, as his father and grandfather had before him. Its splendor was without contest in all the kingdoms.

Lakshmi had vague memories of living in a small house in a rural part of the empire with her mother and several others. It had had none of the grandeur of the palace, yet she remembered being happy there. But her mother had not been happy. Her mother had missed court life, had missed being waited on, and had opted to come out of hiding and return to her life here in hopes that she could regain her position and once again enjoy the riches she had known as a young woman.

Lakshmi wondered if her mother would have made a different choice had she known how it would ultimately turn out. Somehow, she didn’t think so.

It had been some time since Lakshmi had thought of her mother, but now was not the time for such reflection. She was going to the market to select new fabric for a special gown the emperor wanted her to have. Needlework was one of Lakshmi’s skills, and she insisted on selecting fabric herself rather than have maids select it for her.

Those at the palace supposed she preferred to choose her own cloth because she refused to work with anything  she considered inferior, but in reality she was looking for an excuse to escape the palace, even if it meant entering the hot, dusty world of the surrounding city.

Are you ready, Lakshmi? a large guard at the side door asked. He was a good foot taller than Lakshmi, and almost as wide as the door he guarded. Lakshmi knew the scimitars he wore at his waist had gotten good use in the years before he began working in the palace, and had not been idly sheathed since.

Yes. Lakshmi liked Creb, but she gave him no more than a quick glance. It wouldn’t do for the emperor’s favored concubine to pay attention to mere guards.

The market? Creb was often assigned to accompany the concubines, especially Lakshmi, when they chose to leave the palace, and she knew it was something he found slightly amusing after years as a soldier in the Army of the Sun.

Silk Street, Lakshmi confirmed. She wished she could wander the market alone and unnoticed. There were areas that were not meant for the pampered and wealthy, and Lakshmi wanted to visit them. But they were not places for a palace concubine, and Creb would never allow her to stray.

On this day, Silk Street was filled with the typical crowds of people. Lakshmi saw one of the palace seamstresses who often worked on clothing for the other concubines looking over various bolts of cloth. Lakshmi came up beside her and began examining the array of silks. Some she lingered over; others she dismissed quickly. The proprietor of the shop saw her, and as he knew her and was eager to keep her custom, he bowed and offered to bring her more selections, touting the value of his goods in a melodious voice and assuring her someone would help her shortly.

Lakshmi waited off to the side, knowing she would be taken care of soon enough. Though she loved her time away from the palace, it always made her anxious. But she hid her anxiety, never breaking her calm demeanor or demonstrating any desire to rush. Since it would seem strange to ask for such opportunities to leave the palace and then cut them short, Lakshmi made every pretense of being slightly bored. Her face behind the diaphanous veil was smooth; her bottom lip slightly protruding as she looked around the room.

Soon enough the proprietor’s wife came out of the back room and spotted Lakshmi. Goodness, Lady Lakshmi, I didn’t know you were here! the woman exclaimed, hurrying up to Lakshmi and curtsying so that her bottom nearly touched the ground. How can I be of assistance? I hope you didn’t have to wait long. Is there anything I can get for you?

I’m fine, Lakshmi said with a smile for the good woman. Perhaps we can go into the back room and look at some silk?

The woman nodded and escorted Lakshmi to the back. There was a large selection of silk, the bolts as fine as any out on the floor, and many of them better. Here you are, Lady. Are you sure I can’t bring you anything?

The woman looked hurt by the thought that she could not be of more assistance, and Lakshmi consented to ask for some chilled melo juice if the woman had any.

While the woman went to fetch the juice, Lakshmi toured the room. Silks of all colors were displayed here, in private, for the most discerning customers. She ran her fingers over various bolts, feeling the weight and texture of each. Finally she came to a bolt resplendent in purples and reds and oranges all mixed together to create a sunset of colors. The silk was light, almost translucent, and Lakshmi immediately thought of a design for a gown. 

By the time the woman had come back with Lakshmi’s drink, Lakshmi had made her decision.

She sipped quietly as the woman measured, cut, and wrapped the silk, chatting all the while about the quality and how fetching it would look with Lakshmi’s glossy hair and golden skin. You’ll be striking, the woman promised. Such a spectacular choice.

Thank you. Lakshmi carried the fabric to the front room and handed it to Creb. The woman told her husband the details of the purchase, and Creb and the proprietor handled the monetary transaction. 

Business done, Creb escorted Lakshmi back to the palace in silence, sensing her pensive mood. Lakshmi usually had a few words for the guards despite the distance she must maintain as one of the emperor’s concubines, but today she could not summon the energy to talk to Creb. 

Instead she enjoyed the heat, the smell of humanity that so many of those in the palace turned their noses up at and tried to block with their perfumes and smelling salts. The sun was glaringly bright, so different from the filtered light that came in through the gauzy drapes in the palace. 

Lakshmi remembered living outside the palace, in the heat and the smell and the bright sunlight. She wouldn’t say that she would trade her life now for that one. She had been a child then, and her memories were a child’s memories, but she wished there were more opportunities for her to slip away from the palace and experience the streets of the city as a normal woman would.

Just once she would like to go out unguarded, unfettered by convention and responsibility. But that was not to be. Her path had been decided years ago.

Chapter Two

Lakshmi awoke suddenly, instantly aware that it was still the middle of the night. She lay silently on the soft, down-filled mattress, trying to ascertain what had woken her. The door between her chamber and the emperor's was still closed, and the bolt on the door that led to the corridor was in place.

Yet something was amiss.

She waited another moment; then heard a sound that had her sitting up straight in her bed. The sound had come from the roof, and she knew it was not one of the cats that worked to keep the palace free of mice. Whatever had made such a noise was much larger in size, and much less stealthy.

Lakshmi reached over and pulled her white dressing robe off of a nearby hook. She slipped it on, making sure to tie the belt tightly so that the silk robe wouldn’t slip open. If there was trouble on the roof, she didn’t have the time to get fully dressed. 

After grabbing the knife off her bedside table, Lakshmi headed out to the balcony. She kept to the shadows, glad that the waxing moon was still only a thin crescent in the sky. Her white robe was too revealing as it was.

She heard the noise again, louder now that she was outside. A glance up showed the silhouettes of three men creeping along the roofline. They were passing over her bedroom now and were heading in the direction of the emperor’s balcony.

No one would be foolish enough to try to rob the palace, and Lakshmi knew with grim certainty that the men she was looking at were assassins, not thieves. Assassination attempts were too common of late, something that made Lakshmi’s position all the more important. She tucked the knife into the belt of her robe and stood on tiptoe to reach the edge of the roof. With supreme effort she pulled herself up, struggling to be quiet as she clambered onto the roof. 

Her feet, bare of even her satin slippers, were silent against the tiles as she crept towards the men. They sensed her before she was upon them, and the one in the rear lunged at her. Lakshmi dodged, kicking out instinctively, and the man fell over the edge of the roof. He missed the balconies and landed on the street four stories below.

Lakshmi would report him to the guards so that he could be removed before any of the peasants saw him. At the least he would have to be stripped of any identifying markers. It was important that people not know just how contentious the emperor’s grip could be, or how many people of influence and means wished to see him dead.

But reporting the intruders could wait. The other two men had all of Lakshmi’s attention for the moment, and they were more wary after their friend’s demise. 

She pulled her knife out of her belt and headed toward them. 

Her steps were calm and steady, her movements precise. The knife was only for insurance: her hands and