In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve had to accept a few hard truths about myself.
For starters, I now realize I am bat-shit crazy and have been talking to myself as a coping mechanism for almost three years now. On the flip side, I also learned that I am incredibly adept at compartmentalizing my problems, setting them aside, and leaving them for future me to deal with. Like top percentile. No one compartmentalizes better than me. No one. Some would call that a flaw and on most day’s, so would I, but I really need a win right now. Between mourning for a lost little brother who never existed and dealing with a whole slew of mental problems and anger issues, I’m faced with yet another hard truth which is bumming me out.
I, Falling Rain, youngest Second Grade Warrant officer in history and number one talent of the Empire, am a manlet. It’s true. At 175 cm tall, I’m only short in the company of Martial Warriors, a differential easily ignored in normal circumstances, especially since Mila’s around the same height as me and calling Lin 165 cm would be generous. Besides, most common born Martial Warriors aren’t all that tall either, usually averaging around 185 cm tall, which means most of the time, it’s like I’m living in a normal-sized world with the odd pack of freakish giants passing through.
Standing over two meters high, my new concubine shatters all illusions as I stand eye-level with the hollow of her neck. Now, it’s a lovely neck and her towering height aside, she seems outwardly perfect. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe her. Blessed with skin so pale it almost glows in the sunlight, she wears her long, lustrous black hair up in an elaborate coiffure, held in place with a gilded circlet of two kissing birds which seems deliberately fashioned to frame her beauty. Glittering amethysts draw my sight towards her best features, hanging above her smoky, hazel eyes, dangling from her dainty earlobes, and wrapped snugly around her exquisite wrists and ankles. Rosy red cheeks, dainty ears, an alluring neck, and a beguiling little beauty mark just under her left eye all make her a ravishing beauty, the single, minor imperfection enhancing her overall appeal.
With her eyes lowered in submission, she flashes a demure smile and curtsies before me, dropping a little lower than decorum demands. “Consort Zheng Luo greets Honoured Husband Falling Rain.” Her delicate, honeyed voice engulfs me like a warm blanket and sinks into my skin, sending a tingle down my spine and directly to my loins. The reaction is so immediate and visceral I suspect it might be magic, but a woman like this doesn’t need magic to get me all hot and bothered. Crowding out all rational thoughts, her short, purple dress demands my attention, rising ever so slightly as she holds her curtsy, which exposes just enough of her juicy thighs without turning into indecent exposure while leaving me wanting for more. Further pushing my limits, her silk shawl slips aside and offers a tantalizing view of a bird-shaped jade pendant nestled neatly in the valley of her bountiful bosom, openly visible through the convenient boob-window of her dress.
Were she not a country destroying beauty, Zheng Luo’s contrived display would have me rolling my eyes in disbelief. Everything about her is elaborately designed to entice and entrap, from her sparkling jewellery to her seductive movements. Like, am I seriously supposed to believe she doesn’t realize her dress is sliding up, or that her shawl just ‘happened’ to slip aside as she leaned over? C’mon now, she waited a few seconds before ‘fixing’ her ‘mistake’, and her none-too-subtle studious glance disguised as embarrassed desire isn’t fooling anyone. Zheng Luo’s got the goods but her performance leaves much to be desired, a callow, untried girl’s first try at seduction in the real world. Too bad she’s up against someone who’s seen it all and possesses an iron-like will. Hmph, it’s not so easy to seduce Falling Rain, number one talent in the Empire.
Hehe. The more I say it, the less guilty I feel about winning through alternative tactics. Adapt or perish, that’s how it is.
Having met my concubine, I can’t take sole credit for my restraint. Much of it is due to Mila strategically standing in my line of sight while sending murderous scowls my way, a firebrand bristling with jealousy as I meet the newest member of my harem. Wholly terrified of possible heavy-handed repercussions and regretting my off-colour joke to the Legate about imaginary orgies, I fake a yawn and rub my eyes to force myself to stop staring at Zheng Luo. “Nice to meet you,” I say, too scared to look directly at the statuesque beauty. “I’m Rain. Err, no need to be so formal or worried, you’re safe and among friends. As for the whole concubine thing, don’t worry about it. Put it out of your mind and forget about it. You’re absolved of all err... concubinely duties from here on in. No one among the Bekhai will treat you like a slave or force you to do anything you don’t want to, this I promise you.”
“But why?” Zheng Luo’s distraught tone catches me off-guard and sadness clouds her lovely features, her mask slipping as she asks, “Is it because Lord Husband finds Luo-Luo unattractive? Or is it because Lord Husband dislikes slaves? Luo-Luo is not a slave so please do not discard her, she will do her utmost to satisfy all of Lord Husband’s needs.”
Mm, ‘Lord Husband’. I like that. Just the implication of submission is enough to get my engines revving, imagining what I’d do to my meek, obedient consort... But ‘Luo-Luo’ though? Mm, not a huge fan of grown-ass women acting like cutesy children. I mean, yea, Lin does the same thing, but she’s adorable and it comes naturally to her. Zheng Luo is a refined, mature beauty, too dignified to pull off ‘cute and naive’ like my sweet wifey and should stick to a more regal and proud persona.
...Do I subconsciously want Lin to stop acting so childish? At some point in the distant future, I suppose yea, but it’s part of her charm and there’s nothing wrong with indulging my spoiled, indolent little wifey, right?
Learning so many new things about myself today. Not enjoying it all that much. Ignorance truly is bliss.
Mistaking my glance for a questioning look, Lin shrugs and grins in response. “Don’t worry hubby, I think you should marry her. She’s pretty, tall, and so sweet with children, but she’s the last one, ya? Luo-Luo makes five, so that’s it. No more or I’ll be sad.”
Hugging my sweet wifey close, I inwardly worry about her ability to count, an important skill considering she handles most of my finances. Lin, Mila, and possibly Yan makes three, then Luo-Luo would be number four. Who’s the fifth? Is Lin counting Li Song? That’s not fair, she barely even tolerates my presence. Wait, I’m focusing on the wrong thing. Still cuddling Lin close, I turn my attention back to Luo-Luo and ask, “You’re not a slave?”
“No Lord Husband,” she replies, recovering from her shock and falling back into the role of dutiful concubine. “Luo-Luo is an Imperial Servant, gifted in tribute to the Imperial Clan upon her birth and bound by no Oaths. Although Imperial Mandate guided Luo-Luo to Lord Husband, she remains here of her free will and wishes only to serve at Lord Husband’s pleasure.”
I am not proud to admit this, but my gut reaction to the news is, “Well, fuck.”
I believe slavery is horrible in any way, shape, or form, and it sounds terrible even thinking this, but... the Oaths are convenient. I have way too many secrets floating around to have an unaffiliated courtesan hanging around, all up in my business and possibly ready to report me to the authorities for any rebellious acts or sacrilegious statements. I’m not saying she’s a spy for sure, but for all I know, she’s the Legate’s tool sent here to find out the secret to my strength or here to shame me into hanging myself for being so short.
If I get enough Heavenly Energy, could I make myself taller? No, that’d be ridiculous, it’d be a complete waste of a scarce and valuable life-saving resource. I shouldn’t do that. Yea, no...
Getting back on track, I pull out the white-jade token given to me by the Imperial Messenger and study it thoroughly. There are no words on the token, just a carved depiction of a fancy looking bird with spread wings and a single long tail-feather, like a quasi-plucked peacock or something. “If you’re not a slave, then what’s this token for?” I need to start reading documents all the way through, but in my defence, I had a minor panic attack after reading the word ‘concubine’ with Mila standing right beside me. I love making her jealous but there’s only so far you can push a woman before she snaps, and if Mila snaps, so too will my spine.
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Kneeling before the token, Luo-Luo bows in devotion and reverence, giving me yet another look at her soft, bouncing breasts before answering. “Consort Luo-Luo reports, the token signifies Lord Husband’s new status as an Imperial Consort of the Court, a title granted to Lord Husband upon marriage to Luo-Luo.”
“Uh, I don’t understand. Why does marrying an Imperial Servant make me an Imperial Consort?”
With a patient smile one usually reserves for uninformed children, Luo-Luo explains, “For most Imperial Servants, it would not. As Mandated by Heaven, after nine generations of nobility, all Imperial Scions are obligated to offer the tenth generation to the Imperial Clan as tribute. Stripped of name, wealth, and title, the tenth generation Serve where their ancestors Ruled, a much needed Balancing of the scales of life.” Drawing herself up to her full height, she proudly puffs up her voluminous chest and continues. “Unlike most, Luo-Luo is not of the tenth generation, but of the first, born and offered freely as tribute on the twelfth anniversary of Imperial Emperor’s Coronation. As such, Imperial Emperor permitted Luo-Luo certain privileges despite her status as Imperial Servant, one of which was this transfer of title to her Lord Husband.”
Ugh. The thought of giving your children away as tribute makes my stomach turn, but I suppose it’s necessary to prune the royal family tree every now and then, else everyone would be a royal scion in some way or the other. Nine generations is sufficiently long enough I guess, but it all seems so arbitrary. Now how do I put this delicately? “What are the... benefits... of being an Imperial Consort?”
Fuck you brain. I hate you so much.
Embarrassed by my straightforward question, Luo-Luo’s cheek twitches as she answers, “This is a great honour for Lord Husband, but as for specifics, this one cannot say. Never before has there been circumstances quite like ours, where an Imperial Consort outranked his or her partner.”
“You mean you’re the first Imperial Servant to be permitted this ‘privilege’?” Does that make her super special or something? Who were her parents?
“No Lord Husband.” Her beautiful smile washes over me and her eyes shine with pride. “Historically, the title of Noble, Royal, or Imperial Consort was reserved for foreigners of prominence who married a ranking member of the Imperial Clan. By itself, the title carries no rank or privilege, nor does it allow the title-holder’s children to inherit anything from the title-holder’s spouse unless explicitly notarized in a public will.”
Worthless. “So it’s a trophy title? A way of legitimizing an affair without endangering the rightful wife and heirs?”
“Lord Husband is correct, but not entirely so.” Still beaming, her next words are spoken carefully, as if worried I won’t understand. “Previously, although other Imperial Servants have been granted the same privileges as Luo-Luo, they were all gifted to people of higher status within the Imperial Clan, thereby rendering the title of Imperial Consort moot. While foreign heroes and nobles can marry into the Imperial Clan, Imperial Scions are forbidden from marrying out, which puts Lord Husband in the unique position of being the first Imperial Consort to outrank his or her spouse and not reside in the Eastern Province.”
Woo, another first. Suck it, predecessors, get good. But... Isn’t it still a useless title? As if reading my thoughts, Mila snorts and explains, “It means you’re of Imperial Peerage without being beholden to Imperial Politics. If you wanted to, the title allows you to take up residence in the Eastern Province, but only technically. In reality, it won’t be so easy.”
Still seems kind of useless. Giggling at my prolonged confusion, Lin tugs on my shirt and whispers, “It means you’re socially above everyone who isn’t an Imperial Scion, but below anyone who is. It doesn’t mean much to you, but most nobles would do anything for the same title.”
“Younger Sisters Mila and Lin-Lin are correct, but there is much more and Luo-Luo will be happy to explain in great detail.” With all the dignity of a proud teacher watching her students excel, Luo-Luo curtsies once more and implores, “Please, Lord Husband, do not send Luo-Luo away. The benefits are many and if this one displeases you, then you need only tell Luo-Luo what you wish changed and she will do her utmost to satisfy your demands.”
Will... to resist... crumbling... must... stop... staring... at cleavage...
Rubbing my temples like I have a headache, I hide Luo-Luo’s bewitching figure from my eyes. “Relax, I’m not sending you away or anything. Look, we’ll figure it out as we go, all right?” I can’t afford to offend the Legate, especially now that I understand the value of his gift. I’ve been made pseudo-royalty by affiliation, which is a big deal to most people. It just so happens I don’t care, which might be exactly why the Legate gifted Luo-Luo to me. He gets to be seen as open-minded and generous for rewarding a savage so highly, while not having to worry about me abusing the privilege.
Holy shit... What if that’s why the Legate is being so nice to the Bekhai? He can afford to empower Akanai and the others because unlike more ambitious nobles of the Empire, he knows the Bekhai will give up everything they’ve gained and go back North when the war is over. It’s an optimistic view of the future, but I bet he’s been doing the same with other factions of the Empire, trying to keep the balance of power in place no matter what the outcome. By favouring the smaller, insular factions, the Legate not only ensures they’ll stick around to defend a foreign land, but he also makes the other, more powerful factions work harder in hopes of a similar reward.
I doubt that’s his only reason either, but I gotta say, it feels pretty good to be the golden child.
Relieved by my assurances she won’t be discarded out of hand, Luo-Luo immediately sets to work endearing herself to my inner circle, likely realizing she won’t get anywhere without their approval. Watching her out the corner of my eye as I try to get some rest, I marvel at how easily she makes friends with everyone, an accomplished socialite in her element. Lin is easily won over by simply calling her Lin-Lin, my adorable wifey blushing at the overly-familiar and childish designation, while Mila takes a little more effort. Sadly, it doesn’t take long for Luo-Luo to figure Mila out, soon realizing my fiery-haired betrothed loves flaunting her knowledge, especially about things near and dear to her heart like her forging talents. Li Song is even easier to charm as Luo-Luo promises to play a game of chess when they’re done brushing the bunnies, lending a hand by keeping track of who still has yet to be brushed without interfering with Li Song’s enjoyment.
Shit. I guess Li Song does count as one of my future wives, though it’ll undoubtedly be a frigid, loveless union of convenience.
Luo-Luo’s tricks and games come so naturally to her, it leaves me suspicious of almost all her actions. Is she truly as she appears, a serene beauty eager to please, or does she harbour ulterior motives? Does she believe Ping-Ping is a Divine Beast or is she putting on a show for the stupid bumpkins? Is her respect for Alsantset and Charok real, or is she faking it because they’re my family? What about Tali and Tate? Is everything as it seems and she thinks they’re adorable, or is she inwardly cringing because she’s forced to hug two ‘half-beast mongrels’? Is she asking about the rabbits’ names because they’re cute and fluffy, or because she knows I care and wants to feign interest?
Most importantly, how does she feel about being a concubine while Mila and Lin are the legal wives? The Empire makes a big fuss about wife hierarchy, putting great emphasis on the official wife while treating secondary wives and concubines more like servants. Does it upset her to be placed beneath two (or more) women? What if she’s harbouring thoughts of usurping their positions? Happy wife, happy life, but how am I supposed to deal with a power-hungry noble from the east?
Truth be told, all this is conjecture, but I don’t want Luo-Luo around for mostly one reason. I could say it’s because she’s too phony, too tall, or too beautiful, or I could claim it’s because I don’t trust her and have too many secrets to hide. Hell, I could even blame it on my antagonistic nature and claim I don’t like being told who to love, but even if I put all that aside, I can’t bring myself to like her. She’s just too... perfect.
Yea, I know, horrible right? She has no discernible flaws, whatever will I do? It seems petty, but it’s true. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and can play more instruments than I can name, a pleasant and accommodating young woman who seems wholly comfortable in her unfamiliar circumstances and willing to make the best out of a bad situation, which is unnatural. Any normal person in her situation would freak out, but she’s handling it like just another day, all unperturbed and nonchalant. It’s weird and I don’t like it.
Besides, I like women with flaws, because people are inherently flawed. Lin’s adorable lethargy and carefree attitude, Mila’s passionate jealousy and excitable nature, Yan’s vulgar contentiousness and independent nature, those qualities are part and parcel of what I love about them.
...Shit.
I love Yan.
Damn it. I’m the worst betrothed/hubby in the world. At least I’m not in love with Li Song too, though it’s utterly adorable watching her interact with my pets... No, bad Rain. Stop it. Get your libido under control. Haven’t you figured it out yet? More women equals more problems! You should’ve stopped at three wives!
With all these gloomy revelations bringing me down, I grab Inky’s cauldron and head over to the beach to watch the rest of the festivities, knowing Akanai will head up next. Ping Ping and the girls all follow along behind me, chatting like they’re the best of friends. I don’t get how girls make friends so quickly. I don’t even chat that much with my friends. Then again, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, Fung’s usually too busy, BoShui is all fan-girly, I have this weird power dynamic with Dastan, Zian still pretends like he hates me, and Huu ghosted me months ago.
I miss having Baledagh to chat with. This sucks.
On my way through camp, I notice the black-armoured guards who escorted Luo-Luo here still standing where we left them, though the Imperial Messenger is nowhere to be found. “What are they still doing here?” I mutter under my breath, just as an excuse to hear my voice.
Luo-Luo, ever the opportunist, seizes the chance to open a dialogue. “Where would Lord Husband like them to stand instead?”
Though she’s handling things better than I expected, Mila’s sullen glower makes my heart ache, wishing I could be the man she deserves. It’s stupid, she’s an incredible warrior and brilliant blacksmith, she shouldn’t have to share a husband with so many other women, and same goes for Lin and Yan. To this end, I respond to Luo-Luo more sharply than intended. “Stop calling me Lord Husband, my name works just fine.” Whoa back it up. “You can order them around?”
Hurt and confusion etched across her lovely features, Luo-Luo nods and explains, “These soldiers are a part of Luo-Luo’s dowry, three-hundred and sixty members of the Imperial Death Corps here to guard her honour. Speak your orders and they shall obey.”
Nice. More soldiers and Imperial ones at that. The Legate was right, I do like my gift.
Chapter Meme