Empress - Chapter 23

The world that Yuanji knew had become familiarity contorted by tears and anger, a confused rage directed at many, not the least of which being herself. The ride back to her palace was an uneasy transition back into the life that she had been so willing to leave behind, yet what she saw of it was far more dreadful than the worst days before her reckless venture, before Meiling. Shapes of flowers had lost their color, or more accurately the value in color, no matter how splendid and vibrant, lost all meaning with Meiling as far from her side as any hope for a content life. Her mind swirled around the sourness of the images she had seen, of Qiang collapsing into his own blood, of Prince Fu Jie assuming power over her and the village, of Meiling’s bitter expression cutting through her heart with the blade of her own lies. She pictured the reunion of her parents, imagining how the Emperor and Empress would react to her malfeasance. She submitted to the understanding that she deserved any punishment she would receive, by them, by the prince, by the whole village. Yuanji knew she wronged them all and more, as much as she knew that she would walk through boiling oil for acres, for years, just to see Meiling smile one last time.

“Your highness,” Yuanji said softly, gathering herself as the ghosts of her tears left her face sore and puffy. “Please listen to me, I beg of you. Meiling and Sima Yi did no wrong. It was me. I chose to abandon my duties, I chose to live there, I made Sima promise not to tell. I deserve to be punished, but please spare them. They’ve done no wrong.”

Yuanji glanced up at the Prince’s cold back. He stared straight ahead, saying nothing. His robes fluttered. He sat upright, unbothered by her distress or by the act of killing a man wanting to protect. A jade dagger tapped against his side, bound by a shimmering cord, with every clopping step of his steed. Yuanji waited and heard only the whistling of the wind and the distant chirping of cicadas. She knew not what to expect from the man, realizing fully just how little she knew about him, just how little she ever cared to know about him. She almost wished for him to berate her for making such a claim, or even to take a more romantic approach as his conventional charm would suggest. Instead, he said nothing. He gave her not so much as a look in another direction to even indicate that he heard her. The longer she waited for a response to her plea, the more like a ghost she felt.

Hong Yuanji sniffled. She wiped at her cheek as she bounced atop the prince’s horse at a lazy stride. A sourness had tainted the land, the entire world, around her. Her nose wrinkled with the unpleasant odors of horses and their dung. The ground seemed covered with weeds and ash. The sky from the village was dark and every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Qiang’s fallen body and Meiling’s horrendous scowl. Yuanji winced in real pain. If she could, she would dig the memory out from her mind with a rusty knife or a spade with no handle. She wondered what she would do if anything bad, anything worse, would happen to Sima Yi and Meiling, if she would ever see either of them again. She knew she would be content with the latter, even if their prosperity came from a life of misery as the prince’s indentured bride. The thought made her stomach churn, though it was far preferable than them facing punishment for her mistakes.

“Please, I am begging you, my prince,” Yuanji’s voice shook as she tried again. “If you must punish them, please go easy on them. I know that I am guilty for their persecution and I cannot bear the thought of them suffering… or worse… for what I have done.” The prince continued looking ahead as he and his guards began riding onto palace grounds. A harsh gust sent Yuanji’s hair flying from her face as nearby trees rustled. She reached up to corral the obsidian strands out of her face. Fu Jie continued to ride in silence, boasting a still deafness to her pleading that seemed almost inhuman. 

Guilt and shame festered within Yuanj’s chest. She felt lower than she ever had been before, as if undeserving of the life that she continued to live second by second. She sniffled and swallowed at the putrid taste that lingered in her mouth. She reflected painfully on her deeds, trying to rationalize how the stunt she considered harmless escapism would lead to such dread and death. She considered how she may escape once more, willing to run to wherever she needed to in order to be with Meiling again. The idea gave her mind slight reprieve from the retching discourse storming through her brain and body, and even then, guilt rose again, as any relief from what she had made happen felt grossly undeserved.  

As the mounts pulled onto the palace ground and into the hands of the servants dressed for the stables, Yuanji looked around. She saw the familiar stonework that she used to gaze upon from the courtroom. She witnessed the flora which had remained untouched for many, many years, flourishing within its own care. She studied the finer details of the palace architecture. She knew it all to be her home, her old home, and yet it too felt as undeserved as it was strangely unfamiliar to her. She had pictured, after sharing her truth with Meiling, returning with her lover to share her royal fate with Meiling by her side, to bring Meiling into the lavish luxury of her upbringing. She stared, instead, back at the wealth and prosperity of the land, knowing that she would give it all up, burn it all down, just to be by Meiling’s side again. 

“Come,” Fu Jie finally said. His voice was distant and booming. He took Yuanji’s hand and helped her off of the back of his horse. Yuanji sighed, complying and wondering what turmoil she would ultimately still face from the echoes of her actions. She fell silent and unwilling to continue pleading with the prince until she would find him in a more receptive state, though she felt the weight of limited time breathing down her neck. The idea of Meiling or Sima facing the prince’s wrath made her stomach twist and lurch with the impulse to relieve stewing contents. Yuanji pushed it down, the sickness, the screaming thoughts, the worries and loneliness, and held her head high. Her eyes boasted a pinkish hue. She sniffled, her cheeks still puffy, though she presented herself as she knew she must uphold her title; lifeless and dreadfully droll. 

Prince Fu Jie led Yuanji through the palace, with his guards and commander, Xianying, walking behind her. There was nowhere to run. Instead of letting her eyes gaze upon the sights of her home that she had not seen in what felt to be months of complete bliss, her brain toiled at an escape plan. No one knew the palace better than she. She tried to remember all the places to hide, all the ledges that had been safe to jump from, all the walls with chipped stone and wood able to be climbed. All the while, palace servants bowed to Yuanji as she and the prince made their way through the ornate hallways, dressed with tapestries and lit with flaming lanterns. Yuanji’s eyes remained mostly on the floor, her head having grown heavy the farther she found herself being thrust back into her old life, a life without Meiling.

“Yuanji?” a frantic voice stormed through the halls of the palace. The young princess knew the voice of the woman well. She looked up, prepared to face her mother storming around the corner. Servants stood by looking solemn and shocked, as if gazing upon a ghost. Yuanji recognized some faces while others faded into the back of her mind, pushed away by the thoughts swirling about in a restless tempest of disaster. Yuanji sniffled and wiped her cheek. Fu Jie continued leading her toward the throne room, but before the party could reach even the sight-line of the room’s golden archway, Yuanij looked upon the pale matriarch rushing toward her, tears pouring down her face, as she collapsed before the princess in a sobbing bow. For a moment, Yuanji failed to recognize her mother. She had been convinced of moments wherein she forgot she even had a mother, her time with Meiling seeming so long and yet so dreamlike, as if the time had been the only moments of her life when she was truly where she belonged. Hong Niyu trembled as she sobbed against the floor like a commoner. As Yuanji looked down to her mother, broken and weeping, she knew who she was and why, yet another horrific sight for her misdeeds to chisel forever into her memory.

“M… mother…” Yuanji muttered. She too collapsed to the floor. More tears rushed to her eyes as she cried with her mother, Niyu reaching out to embrace her child. Emotions swelled above convention, above etiquette, as servants and guards and Fu Jie’s towering presence stood by, observing with pity. “I… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, mother!” 

“My child…” Niyu repeated through her tears. Yuanji could hear the age in her voice, the worry and sleeplessness. What little she saw of her face, made up in the Empress’s ritual colors, she too could see into the fear and distraught of her expression, baked almost permanently into the complexion. Yuanji’s mind toiled over what all her disappearance had done to her parents, how much they knew beyond Sima’s plan, and whether or not they even cared. Yuanji knew that if there was any chance of absolving meiling and Sima Yi from the blame, her mother was the vehicle.

“Mother… mother, I have to tell you…” Yuanji tried to hurry through her tears. “It was all my fault, I assure you!” Niyu looked up, shaking her head.

“I… I was so worried when I heard what had happened, that you had been taken by some… vagrant…” Niyu stammered. “Are you hurt? What did they do to you?” 

“No, mother, listen please,” Yuanji pleaded.

“And how Sima Yi abandoned his post,” Niyu shot through the words, not fully confident how to string the thoughts together. “He was supposed to protect you, to look after you…”

“No, please, just listen,” Yuanji said much more loudly. She met her mother’s eye, both stares enlarged and teary. “It was not Sima Yi’s fault. Nor was it Meiling, the one who had me. It was mine. I snuck out and wanted to live among the people. Please do not let them face judgment for what I did.” 

“No, you will say no such things, Yuanji,” Niyu said, her tone rising in fury. “Especially in front of your father. I will not have you speaking such foul insinuations to protect some lowly miscreants.”

“No, mother, just listen to me!” Yuanji said. 

“I think the young princess has had quite a stressful day, wouldn’t you, Empress Niyu?” Fu Jie interjected, reaching down and taking Yuanji’s hand to help her to her feet. Yuanji glared back up at the man and recoiled.

“Mother, this man… the prince… he killed Commander Qiang,” Yuanji forced the words out, stumbling upon facing them so closely. “He… drove a sword through his chest for protecting the people of Xian.” Niyu sniffled and looked up to Fu Jie. The man smiled sadly and sighed, shaking his head.

“A harsh toil on the good people of your Empire, for sure,” Fu Jie said. “He will be gravely missed and, I’m sure, honored by them all. But he disobeyed a direct order and turned actively hostile when he refused to put down the menace responsible for your capture.”

“That’s a lie!” Yuanji shouted, springing to her feet. 

“Yuanji!” Niyu shouted. She pushed herself to a stand, her eyes narrowed in fuming disbelief toward her daughter. “You know not to speak to a royal in such a tone.”

“But he’s lying, mother!” Yuanji insisted. “I was there. Commander Qiang was just protecting Meiling, as he always did, as he did for everyone, and the prince murdered him with no real judgment. He does not deserve the throne just like the commander did not deserve to die!” 

“Yuanji, hold your tongue!” Niyu said, overtly angry. Fu Jie held up a hand. His smile broke through the tension raging between the two, a look he had given many times to help lower the defenses of his targets. 

“Yuanji, my sweet Crown Princess, it brought me no joy to extract what needed to be done to keep the peace, I assure you,” Fu Jie said. Yuanji stared back at the man with sour disdain, seeing the nuances up close of how he performed in front of her mother. “It is never an easy or enjoyable task to uphold, but the authority was given to me to return you home as safely and as swiftly as possible. I am deeply sorry that you’ve been so traumatized by the events under which you’ve suffered during this time, but you have my word that you will be safe and that justice, rightful justice, will be enacted to make sure you stay that way.” The taste of dirt filled Yuanji’s mouth. She listened to each painful lie, each gesture of manufactured insincerity, with nothing but hate filling her soul. With little relief from the guilt of her own actions, she could see the kind of man that stood before her. 

“Meiling did nothing wrong,” Yuanji said firmly. “And Sima Yi is a good man who was only following the orders of the one he served so honorably. We shall demand that you release them both from your custody at once!” As Fu Jie said nothing, she glanced around at the small crowd of guards and servants observing the exchange. They wore their faces darkened and turned away. Through them, Yuanji could see Xianying, leaning against the far wall, seemingly chewing on a turnip root. She looked around the palace halls with marginal disinterest in the plight playing out before her.

“Hong Yuanji,” Niyu said. “This behavior is childish and unbecoming of a young noble, to say the least.” She turned back toward Fu Jie, her eyes downturned with sadness and unrest. “I… apologize for her, Yuanji has always had a spark of rebelliousness to her. I assure you that, should you still agree to the terms the Emperor has set for you both, that she will make a fine bride in time.”

“Worry not, your majesty, it is that fire in her eyes that makes Hong Yuanji such an outstanding young woman,” Fu Jie said, smiling warmly back at Empress Dowager.

“I think we’ve had quite the eventful day, haven’t we,” Xianying chimed in from the back. “Perhaps the princess needs a good, long rest to help collect herself.”

“A promising idea from my own commander,” Fiu Jie said. “If you would excuse us, your majesty, I’d like to escort Hong Yuanji here back to her chambers. We’ll have her cleaned up so she can start moving past all this mess. And know that I mean it when I say that it is such a relief that Yuanji is safely back home, where she belongs.” Niyu breathed deeply through her nose. She stood with a gained composure indicative of her position and training, her emotions subdued into a manageable pause. 

“The Hong royal family, the empire, and all who live within it, are eternally grateful for your efforts to bring Yuanji home, Crown Prince Fu Jie,” Niyu said. “We are all apologetic over the inconvenience this has brought to you and the procedure set to merge our collective union. I thank you for saving my daughter. I can assure you that everything will proceed from here on out without disruption or interruption.” Fu Jie smiled warmly back at the Empress Dowager, his eyes dark and glimmering in the glowing hue of palace lanterns. 

“I am just grateful that we can put this matter behind us, your majesty,” Fu Jie. “I assure you, I want nothing more than Yuanji’s safety and the prosperity of our people, all our people. I shall continue looking forward to finalizing this union with marriage.”

“Which you shall have,” Niyu said, catching Yuanji’s glance of desperation. “We shall bring on another personal aide to make sure that she is ready and prepared at the earliest convenience.”

“Please, mother, you’re not listening to me–” Yuanji began, stopping sharply as Niyu raised her voice.

“Yuanji, I will not hear another word of these preposterous insinuations,” Niyu said, her lips forming the sounds with bladed precision. “We are all quite relieved to have you back, but you will not speak ill of the crown prince, in or out of his audience. Trust me when I say that your father will not have as much patience for it as I have in these past minutes.” Yuanji’s lip trembled. She took a step back, her wrist being caught by Fu Jie just within exaggerated reach.

“Not to worry, your highness,” Fiu Jie said. “The crown princess here has had a stirring day. Like I said, my commander and I will escort her to her room and make sure that she is well rested and taken care of as she returns to this rightful life.”

“And I thank you, both of you,” Niyu said. “I will inform the emperor of Yuanji’s return that we may proceed with the union.” 

“That certainly puts my mind at ease,” Fu Jie said. He smiled graciously before bowing before the empress. Niyu lowered her head in return. She caught another glimpse of her daughter, the girl’s face locked in a pale expression of sickness and horror, before taking her leave. Fu Jie turned his head to face his sister, his hand tightening around Yuanji’s wrist. “Take us to her chamber.”

“Yes, my prince,” Xianying said. She too caught a glimpse of Yuanji’s expression and grinned as she passed her by. Her gait was firm as it led out in front of Yuanji and the crown prince, leading her back to the room from which she escaped all those months ago.

Yuanji watched Xianying push open the door to her private chamber. The halls to the room were barren and lifeless, void of most of the faces that Yuanji remembered. A quiet loomed over the entire palace like an omen, hushed secrecy louder than any drum. Yuanji had kept her head down the entire way to the chamber. Fu Jie had let his harsh grasp of her arm go, leaving behind ghostly markings of his hand etched with reddish abrasion. It was so much larger than she expected, his touch tainted with the blood of Qiang and more that she dared not think about. His presence, trailing behind her, bred sickness. Every window and ledge the troupe passed, Yuanji saw as an escape, be it right then in a mad, desperate attempt to reclaim her love again, or later in a more rational scheme with which to flee. She imagined conjuring the bravery to leap right then and there, letting either freedom or death save her from the fate breaching the horizon, though her stride continued until it stopped just outside of her private chamber, the room she had wished she would return to under happier conditions.

The interior was ill-kept, unmanned by the servants that she had put her trust into to enact the schemes orchestrated by Sima Yi. The air was stale, almost putrid, without the incense that she had become so accustomed to having prepared. The bed, ornate and square, just large enough for her needs, was unkempt with padding skewed and coverings bunched messily in certain areas. The dressing partition was not in its usual spot. Cloths and articles of clothing laid across the floor in several areas. The curtains to the balcony were parted, letting a soft breeze flap at their tails and carry into the room the scent of smoke from the village. Several lanterns had already been lit, cloaking the room in a glow that Yuanji always pictured somewhat eerie as the sun set behind the scale of Xian in the distance. Yuanji looked around at the familiar stranger. Her eyes furrowed in a sour knowing, a conclusion that plagued her mind as much as the rest of the day.

“Where is Ai Bai?” Yuanji asked. Her voice was quiet, as if already dreading the recoil of Fu Jie’s fury. She hated how easily he walked across the threshold into her room, knowing that she was in no position to tell him where he could and could not go. He walked in and up to the balcony cross. He pulled the curtains shut just as Xianying closed the door behind them all. Yuanji glanced back and forth between the siblings, her hands shaking at being directly in the middle of both. “As crown princess, I… I demand that you answer me in the halls of my own home. Where is my servant, Ai Bai?”

“Oh-ha, ‘demand’?” Xianying chuckled. She traced the room slowly, looking passively around before taking a seat on a padded bench pressed against the wall. “You hear that, brother? She demands.” 

“And she is still Crown Princess Hong Yuanji,” Fu Jie said, his tone having deepened and darkened from the one he used when in the presence of Hong Niyu. He came up to the princess, backing away slightly in the middle of her own chamber. His lips curled. His expression was still amasked with deceit and deception, though wore the look of stoic pleasure. His gait softened as he approached Yuanji. He breathed deeply, his shoulders loosening and falling a bit into a more relaxed posture. He came directly up to Yuanji as the princess stood firmly atop the floor on which she grew into the woman she was. Fu Jie’s eyes latched onto hers, unwavering from her trembling glare. His hand rose to stroke her cheek. Yuanji stood firmly on guard, though her body failed to deny the man’s ability to charm. Fu Jie smiled as he admired the nuance of Yuanji’s beauty. “Even if she hasn’t been acting like one.”

“I… I demand to know… what will you do to Meiling… and Sima Yi?” Yuanji said, meeting the challenge of his gaze. She shivered in place. Fear and anger collided and erupted against her composure, the latter claiming a shaking victory, at least for the moment. Fu Jie smiled unbothered by either of the feelings he could see burning within her. 

“And as my future bride, I will gift you truth… and clarity, my sweet,” Fu Jie said. “The vagrants that aided in you abandoning your post belong to me now. They will be treated as all my other prisoners, you see. I employ very simple utility to those in my direct command. So long as they prove useful to me, the thief, the traitor, and even the servant for whom you share your concerns… they shall live. Easy as that.”

“And what does that mean?” Yuanji asked.

“I could not have made myself more clear, but you will know first-hand soon enough, my dear,” Fu Jie said. “You see, it would be about now that I would expect more gratitude from you. I saved you from a life of meaningless toil under the care of thieves and traitors. I brought you home, back to lavish comfort and familiarity. I offer you clarity and even extend my kindness to spare the lives of the vandals that have committed grave atrocities against the empire and the royal family. Other emperors would have had them put down, beheaded via public spectacle that no one would ever think twice about following their tainted paths, painting the rule of the land in the blood of those that stand against me. Such a fate awaits them both, but only if they will it. I am lenient enough to give them that choice, the same choice I gave to your precious commander. Obey or die.” 

Yuanji’s back pressed against the carved edges of her wall. She knew not when or how she came to back up into it, only that Fu Jie’s words cut like blades pressed against her throat. The man’s eyes stared down at her from the darkened recess of his face, the stare of a looming jungle cat choosing its meal. Yuanji stared back wide eyed, her hands feeling for anything around her person that she could use to protect herself. She imagined perhaps getting in a harsh blow to the stomach and making another dash for the door. Or even a leap from the open balcony, suffering hopefully nothing that would impede her ability to flee into the nearby woods. Her mind fluttered over macabre images over what Fu Jie was capable of, of what he may do to her, or Sima Yi, or Meiling. For a moment, she considered the better fate for her loved ones being death. She hated the thought, as it made her feel just as vile and repulsive as the man, the villain, that stood before her. The soreness of more tears swelled behind her eyes, though she pushed it back, staring up at Fu Jie with forced defiance.

“I… I cannot allow you to harm them…” Yuanji said through a shivering lip. Xianying snorted from across the room, holding her hand up to her mouth. Fu Jie glanced back at his sister and chief commander.

“I… I’m sorry…” Xianying said, fighting laughter back from behind her hand. “You… pfft… really don’t get what’s happening here, do you?” 

“Xianying, please,” Fu Jie said, holding a hand up. Xianying hiffed and rolled her eyes, still smiling and leaning cross-armed against the wall, the root still sticking from between her teeth. 

“I get it,” Yuanji said firmly. “You’re going to say that I have no power or authority to make such a claim.”

“You’re never found yourself in such a position before, have you?” Fu Jie said, almost calmly. “No, I imagine not.”

“Then… I shall beg,” Yuanji said, her eyes achy and watering. “If that’s what you expect of me. Even if I have to in front of my mother and father, in front of every village, the whole damn empire, I will. I will prostrate and grovel, I will even take their place if I must, but I beg of you, right now… crown prince, as my… as my betrothed… please… just let them go. I will… do anything you wish. Anything at all, I vow to make it happen, if you please just spare Meiling and Sima Yi…” A hush fell across the room, cut only by the soft whistling of the wind outside the fluttering curtains. From across the floor, Xianying chuckled again.

“Told you,” she said. Her comment garnered no acknowledgement from Fu Jie, who simply smiled sadly down at Yuanji. He raised his hand to stroke her cheek. Tears brushed against his knuckles, wiped away with the most feathery of strokes. 

“My sweet bride,” Fu Jie said, admiring her teary complexion. “You are so beautiful. You bloom like the finest white flower in the garden, your beauty shimmering like an angel above all the rest. Why must you allow your soul to be tarnished so by the fates of the commoners? You have only known a life above them all, your birthright as a ruler, and yet you send your heart to the flog over what happens to the cattle, the livestock, that toil in dirt and roots. Why must you spoil your beauty with tears for them?” Yuanji shivered at his touch, yet remained standing firm to receive each condescending stroke. His knuckles swiped across her cheek, up to her temple and down to her neck, examining her face beyond her hair. She had no real answer, even in her heart, over the question. Yuanji never gave a second thought over her compassion for the commoner, even before getting to see how they lived first hand. She remembered the smiles of those that worked the market, the friendships that blossomed from the children to the elderly, and the way that village bustled with life that she never saw perched atop her post in the clouds. She knew only one explanation, one genuine reason for why.

“L… love…” Yuanji said quietly. Fu Jie leaned in, telling her that she had not, in fact, spoken the phrase that echoed in her mind. “Because… I love them. I… love Meiling. And Sima too.” Yuanji’s head slumped with the weight of her concern. She sniffled and reached up to wipe her own cheek. She buried one eye in the heel of her palm for a moment as she struggled to collect herself. Images of all the wonderful moments she shared with Meiling came back to her. In that moment, thinking back to her smile slashed deep as she pictured never being able to see it in person again, even under the best circumstances. A pause fell over Fu Jie and Xianying for another lingering moment. The prince touched beneath Yuanji’s chin, lifting her gaze with the tips of his fingers.

“Love,” Fu Jie said delicately. “Yes, I’ve seen what love can do. Love has leveled empires, challenged the limits of human achievement. Love has thrown many men and women at my feet. I have seen the folly first-hand. Never, however, have I seen love’s fickle foolishness taint the heart of a regal power such as yourself in this way. You claim you love these two… commoners, criminals… that I should spare them under this childish delusion, this reactionary impulse to fuck the beasts out there validate, call ‘romance’ and ‘longing’.” Yuanji’s eyes furrowed once more. The anger she displayed quickly began shifting into horror as she peered into the depths of Fu Jie’s dark stare. The prince’s fingers weaved through Yuanji’s hair, stroking tenderly as he gazed down at her. 

“You continue to beg when I have been nothing but cordial to you,” Fu Jie continued. “I have given you more than what was required of me, more than you deserve for harboring such madness. Truth, mercy, kindness, and yet it is not enough for you. Perhaps the fault is mine, crown princess, for you still know so very little of what is to come. In time, you will forgive me for doing what I must to keep the empire in its rightful order.”

The prince’s hand tightened into a sudden fist within her straight, obsidian locks. Yuanji let out a howl of pain as his grasp pulled a handful of her hair by its roots. Her knees buckled as she reached up to try and pry herself free, only to be met with another abrasive force swinging her down toward the ground. Fu Jie pulled at the princess’s hair, swinging her around and tossing her into the middle of the room. She collapsed, hitting the floor hard on her upper arm, while her hands pressed against the strained side of her head. She looked back at Fu Jie, still standing where he was, tears streaming down her face. She grunted as she crawled back away from him instinctively, meeting the boots of Xianying. The commander shoved her hard with her foot, just light enough to not be a full kick, just enough to keep her on the ground. 

“Obey or die,” Fu Jie said again. “This is the choice I give to everyone. The concept could not be more simple. Or more effective.” Fu Jie turned to face Yuanji, still cowering on the floor, holding her head. “Transgressors that I decide to leave alive either serve me as slaves or are put to death. Sometimes as live targets for my men, others in sported combat, entertainment, for those under my rule, but the stories are all written the same. I find utility in everyone, no matter their purpose. Those that serve are made into the kind of slaves that are content, some even eager, to fulfill their purpose. The lucky ones, the smart ones, lean into the transition. It’s the ones that hold onto their useless lives, to their useless dead selves, that serve in abject misery. Makes no difference to me, but I do have a soft spot for those that greet their subjugation more willingly. The defiant ones… tend to choose death by their own hands and it’s always such a pity that their utility goes wasted, save for the food they supply to the boars.” 

“Y… you… you’re a monster…” Yuanji muttered, trying to crawl away from both Fu Jie and Xianying. Xianying spit out her root, letting it fall to the floor, as she began her way up to the princess, crawling on her back. She reached down and lifted the girl to a sitting position on the floor, kneeling behind her. She locked Yuanji’s head in arms, pressing Yuanji’s throat against the crook of her elbow. She squeezed just tight enough to apply pressure, allowing Yuanji to gulp and gasp for strained breaths. 

“No, princess… I’m the monster,” Xianying said. “You’ll call him… Master.” Yuanji grunted as she struggled in Xianying’s hold. She turned to see the marking burned into the side of Xianying’s neck, a deliberate emblem that carried the characters for the Fu name. It was a scar long since healed, yet deep and intentional enough to be a clear marking that showed beneath Xianying’s darkened hair. 

“Wh… wha…” Yuanji stammered. She looked to Fu Jie, expecting him to say something that would recall his commander from such a brazen attack against a royal. She struggled in Xianying’s arms, yet the girl’s strength and firm posture was nearly impossible for her to weasel out of. Fu Jie glanced back, his head lowered with an expression of concern and distress. 

“It saddens me, Hong Yuanji, that you care so much for the fate of the commoners,” Fu Jie said. “A good rule is paved with blood and tears. Discipline is paramount. You would have spent many nights in wailing agony over the horrors that must be done so dreadfully frequently to instill a powerful empire, an empire worthy of eternal reign.” The man pulled the small blade out from its sheath dangling against his waist, a bronze dagger with a jade handle. She started his way toward Yuanji, his head still lowered and shaking. His face was long and disappointed. Yuanji looked up to the man of fearless truths, still struggling to get out of Xianying’s tightening hold. She gasped and gagged a bit as the bind around her neck gripped hard into the muscles of her throat. 

“You will still be my bride, Hong Yuanji,” Fu Jie said, crouching down to meet her eye-line. Yuanji glanced back and forth between his eyes and the glimmer of the bladed copper in his hand. “You must be, for the empire to flourish as it must.” Fu Jie puffed out a heavy sigh, the sour air from his breath wrinkling Yuanji’s nose as she struggled to breathe. “But if you insist on feeling for the commoner, on falling in love with the commoner, on cavorting freely with the commoner, I suppose I can grant you one more gift…” 

The man lifted his free hand up to Yuanji’s cheek. His fingers weaved once again through the fine strands of her hair, shimmering in the softy lights of the room’s lanterns. He inspected it for a moment while Yuanji sniffled, wriggling against Xianying’s tightened hold. Her eyes remained fixed on the position of the blade in Fu Jie’s grip. He shot Yuanji a pitiful shake of his head before a grimace came over his lips. He huffed again out of his nose and raised the bladed edge of the dagger to her hair. With one swift swipe, the dagger cut through a large clump caught in the vice of Fu Jie’s fist. Yuanji flinched, expecting the dagger to slash at her skin, yet seeing it go through her hair elicited a similar reaction of horror and dread.

“No!” Yuanji cried, her voice strained as Xianying kept her head locked behind her thick, muscular arm. “Please, stop!” Yuanji shook her head, feeling the blade knock against her scalp. Fu Jie grabbed at another thick grip of cut, cutting and slashing through each fistful one at a time. Yuanji watched the clumps fall to the floor around her in dense strands, some longer than others.

“You wish to be among the people, the dirt and filth beyond these walls of rightful fortune,” Fu Jie, his tone had become angry and almost spiteful, his words pushed through clenched teeth. “Then let it be known that you shall not be treated any differently than they, even as my bride. I will claim my empire, the imperial domain of what is rightfully mine, and you… princess… will be treated as nothing but a commoner, just another servant to bolster the duties of pleasure and subservience.” The man hacked away at her hair by the handfuls, whatever he could grab onto as she squirmed against Xianying’s choking hold. She gasped for air while her face darkened, tears streaking down her cheeks, shaded cherry, then plum. 

“You brought this on yourself, pretty thing,” Xianying muttered into Yuanji’s ear. Fu Jie tore the dagger’s blade through strands of black hair that fell to the ground in feathery piles. Some wayward hairs floated in the air around them. Black rain fell to the hardened floor as the light of the lanterns shifted with a harsh wind. Yuanji kicked and twisted and felt the blade’s caress knick at the side of her head. Fu Jie cut through her mane with careless abandon, his impatience daring to pull some hairs directly out of her scalp. 

“Please… stop!” Yuanji shouted. Her voice was weak and gravely, unable to take sufficiently deep breaths while she sobbed. The pain seared from her head downward. The injustice, the humiliation and agony, seemed almost trivial compared to the fear she harbored for Meiling and Sima Yi, yet no less devastating. Sweat trickled down the side of Fu Jie’s burning face. His teeth clenched, his eyes fiery and yet empty, hollow, with a rage that left him blind to abstract remorse. He cut through strand after strand until every hair was slashed through at different lengths and Yuanji remained pressed against the floor amidst the carcass of her image. 

The princess coughed as she cried upon feeling Xianying’s release. She bent over forward, one hand propping herself up onto her knees while the other clamped against her mouth. She stared down at the remains of her hair, shattered like pottery smashed into gravel. Tears rained down among the remains. Yuanji’s breath was stunted, her neck still aching from Xianying’s grip. Denial of nightmarish rationality had become the only way to see out the day, the worst day of hers or possibly anyone’s life. Yuanji stared down through watery eyes at the strands and contemplated in utmost terror at what Fu Jie would still do with Meiling, if Meiling would share a similar fate to that of the onyx fibers that laid lifeless and riddled beneath her. And all because of her actions, her lusts, her curiosities, Yuanji fell upon the penultimate turmoil of knowing that it would have all been her fault. She would have shed all her hair, all of her belongings, all her riches, parades naked through the streets as a vagrant for the rest of her life to spare Meiling from an early death. Knowing what she would do brought little comfort, however, as such a sacrifice did not appear as a presentable option. 

“Such a shame,” Xianying’s voice broke through. “Such a stupid, stupid girl. You had everything, a life most would kill their whole families for, and you just had to give it all up.” She and Fu Jie stood over Yuanji’s frail, wounded body. They stared down at her, sharing their remarks of pity and shame, as Yuanji wept like a child.

“Funny,” Fu Jie said dryly. “I think I like this look better on her.”

“It suits her more, than that crown princess style,” Xianying said, crossing her arms. 

“The look of a commoner.”

“She’ll fit in nicely with all the others in your collection,” Xianying said. Fu Jie chuckled.

“She still has a role to play,” Fu Jie said. “After the union is complete, though, I foresee having very little use for her as an empress. She may very well end up lumped in with the others.” He started toward the door, his posture as regal and upstanding as it always was in presentation.

“Fine by me,” Xianying said. “As long as I still get that yummy advisor– ex-advisor to play with.” Fu Jie handed the dagger to Xianying, who toyed with it between her fingers. The pair left the crying princess hovering over the black strands. They made their way toward the door, opening it slowly. Fu Jie turned back to see Yuanji’s sobbing figure, trembling in stunned dread in the center of the room. 

“I have been authorized to station guards outside your room and around the palace grounds,” Fu Jie said. “Do not think that another escape will go as well as your last one, your highness. Expect my return before long, where we will prepare you for the wedding ceremony and establish what will be expected of you in this arrangement. Until then, I leave you to your rest.” The flames in the lanterns flickered as Fu Jie roughly closed the door behind him and his sister. 

A piercing silence came over Yuanji’s private bed chamber. Yuanji’s body slumped down to the floor, laying across it as she wished nothing more than to open her eyes again and wake back into Meiling’s arms, inside her home, in the middle of some dreadful night. Her fingers graced the fallen remains of her hair. She reached up and touched what remained on her head. She could feel how jagged and uneven the cuts had been, how her crown had been reduced to dishevelment. Even without the utility of a reflection, Yuanji found herself wondering who she had become, who was this monster lurking inside her own skin. She laid in the middle of the hard, cold floor, accompanied only by the stranger than she had become, with the being that had shred her life to ribbons in a matter of hours.

The girl laid across the unforgiving stone, her cheek resting in a small puddle of tears, wondering whether sleep or death would relieve her first.