Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Less than a day had passed after the birth of Xianle’s new Crown Prince before the king’s brother and his entourage staged a total coup, taking swift control of the palace under the cover of night. The emperor and empress escaped with their newborn son mere hours before the new king took hold. The child, Xie Lian, did not cry, as if he knew the delicate balance on which his young life rested in his cousins’ hands. Fearing infanticide, the exiled royals disguised their sweet son as a girl. In announcing the birth of a baby girl, they escaped execution and profited with a treaty granting them a palace in Yong’An, an outpost of Xianle. They lived there in a peace of bated breaths and quiet hope, despite their demotion.
The child grew into a beautiful but naïve young woman. Trained in the noble and martial arts, she drank the herbal tea her parents offered, none the wiser to its estrogenic effects nor her own sex.
In the eyes of her parents and her tutor, it was better this way, this blissful ignorance.
It wasn’t hiding if she didn’t think she had anything to hide. It wasn’t degrading if she grew up like any other noblewoman. Perhaps, they thought, it would be worse if the princess knew. What young boy would willingly pass as a girl? What child could lie so effectively? If she only ever lived as a woman, it would be easier when she was older. It was easier to explain to a young man than to force a child to lie; or, gods forbid, to lose a child.
At seventeen, a young man came to meet the princess, unknowingly shattering their peace.
“That’s all for today, Your Highness,” her servant announced in her soft alto voice as she fixed one last braid. Her long fingers fluttered around her face as she checked her handiwork.
“Thank you, Mu Qing.” The princess stood, sweeping her skirts under the upturned tips of her shoes. “What is his name, again?”
Mu Qing made one of her signature sour faces. “Hua Cheng, Your Highness.”
“Hmm,” mused Xie Lian, selecting her favorite painted fan. “A beautiful name. Does his face match?”
Mu Qing paused, silent. Her hands fidgeted with the wide, embroidered sleeves on the princess’ outer robe. “That’s your decision to make, Your Highness.”
The princess’ keen brown eyes twinkled with interest. “I look forward to seeing him. Will you accompany me?”
“You should know by now not to ask redundant questions, Your Highness. You know I don’t have a choice,” Mu Qing rasped through pursed lips. Her catlike eyes fell under thick black lashes to meet the floor.
The princess gave her servant a sunny smile, two dimples framing neatly rouged lips like petals and two eyes like crescent moons. “I want you to come as a friend, not a servant. And you don’t need to call me Your Highness.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Laughing, the young noblewoman followed her servant out of her chambers.
When the princess and her servant entered, all conversation ceased. When the princess eyes met Hua Cheng’s eyes — no — eye, they each took deep breaths.
This young prince was mysterious. His one foxlike eye gave her a soft look next to a silk eyepatch on his right. Somehow, the eyepatch made him more handsome, almost vulnerable, rather than frightening. He was like one of her mother’s broken plates mended with gold, a gift from a dignitary across the Yellow and East Seas. His aquiline nose and high cheekbones gave him an elegance the eyepatch only heightened. His soft, raspy voice held a hint of humor when he finally spoke. “Your Highness, how long I’ve waited to see you…” He bowed his head, humor seeming to dissipate in a quiet humility. “Forgive me.”
Xie Lian grinned behind her fan, which she batted softly like butterfly wings in contrast to the frantic beat of her heart. With a single swift flick of her graceful wrist, the fan was closed. “Forgive me, Your Highness. My maid takes excellent care of me. Please excuse us both for my lateness.”
Seemingly ignorant to Mu Qing’s red face as she served tea, Hua Cheng gave a low bow. “Then allow me to be your most faithful servant, Your Highness.”
The princess’ face reddened. The former king cleared his throat. “I pray your highnesses would take their seats.”
The two youths sat, sneaking secret glances and shy smiles.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for the invitation. It is appreciated.”
The exiled king barked a bitter laugh. “What Majesty? I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Your Highness Hua.”
Hua Cheng politely poised his chopsticks on a jade stand. “There are those among us who don’t believe that, Your Majesty Xie.”
“Foolishness!”
“Is it foolishness, or courage? Perhaps faith?” Hua Cheng gazed pointedly at Xie Lian, who had been politely eating her duck without a word. “Your Highness.”
“Yes?” Xie Lian placed a dumpling on her mother’s plate.
“How would you feel, if you were to be Xianle’s princess?”
Xie Lian took a sip of tea and cleared her throat. “I think, Your Highness, that I am privileged with the life that I have. What difference would it make, if I were princess in Xianle rather than Yong’an? Why would I ask for more?”
Mu Qing hid a sour face under her lowered head. The former queen praised her daughter, loading her plate with lamb braised in saffron. The prince studied her with an attentive eye. “I believe you deserve more, and I will guarantee that you have it.”
Xie Lian pushed the plate of lamb across the table towards him. He waved it away, instead taking a dumpling. How odd, that a prince have such base tastes. “How old are you, Your Highness?”
“Fifteen.”
“And you come from what kingdom? I’m afraid I don’t recognize your dress. It rather resembles some Miao finery.”
Hua Cheng bit back a smile, eye glimmering as if in on a joke. He raised a brow boyishly. “I am the third Prince of Wuyong.”
The princess laughed. “Surely you must be joking, Your Highness. The Kingdom of Wuyong fell to volcanic disaster well before I or you were born.”
Hua Cheng had a vulpine smirk on his face. “Nothing goes past you, Your Highness. You are correct; the First Kingdom of Wuyong fell one thousand two hundred years ago. But, things change. From a single fire, a forest grows. You should know this well.”
“So why have I not heard word of this forest you speak of?” Xie Lian’s soft-spoken manner hid her knowing intrigue. The two young royals were speaking in riddles.
Hua Cheng gave a sly smile, pressing a finger to his eyepatch. “There’s always a reason for ignorance, Your Highness. There are many who wouldn’t want us to speak so openly of these manners.”
“Hmm,” mused Xie Lian. She glanced at her parents. Her father was somber and unreadable. Her mother smiled beatifically back, equally discreet. “And if I am one of them?”
“Then we won’t speak of such things. But, Your Highness, whether you be Princess of Xianle or Princess of Yong’an, you will always have my regard.” Holding eye contact, he took his first bite of lamb. Interesting.
Xie Lian smiled, radiant. “And you, mine, Your Highness. Prince of Wuyong or beggar from Xianle, I make no difference. You have my regard, Your Highness Hua Cheng.”
“San Lang.”
“Hmm?”
“Call me San Lang. I am the third son, so call me San Lang.”
Interesting indeed. The princess’ mahogany eyes twinkled. “Then you have my regard, San Lang.”
“Thank you. It is appreciated.”
The candles had burned their way well into the afternoon. Hua Cheng regarded them with annoyance. “I’m afraid I must leave now, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Majesties. I hope to hear from you, and please enjoy the gifts.” Hua Cheng bowed, guided out by a taciturn Mu Qing in a wave of red and tinkling silver, leaving behind the odor of autumn leaves and a warm kindling in the heart of the Princess.