Gazing at the empty spot beside her as she came awake, Luo-Luo pouted and sank back into her pillow with a sigh. The nights were so cold here in Central, but sleeping with a heavy blanket left her feeling stifled and suffocated. Thus, in spite of his detached demeanour, Jimjam made for the perfect bedroom companion, a sweet, cuddly darling with soft, luxurious fur and impeccable manners. Since Sarankho and Aurie were firmly attached to Li-Li and Lord Husband, and both bears were monopolized by Lin-Lin, Luo-Luo had spent many a week winning the last wildcat over and eventually succeeded after she discovered his love of cheek massages. Unfortunately, last night, the faithless tomcat refused to leave Lord Husband’s side and chose to sleep on the hardwood floor instead of coming back to snuggle with Luo-Luo. Heartbreaking is what it was. Lord Husband not only refused to warm her bed, but now he’d stolen away his stand-in replacement, leaving Luo-Luo with naught but a cold pillow to hug. How unconscionable.
After a brief bout of self-indulgent pity, she was ready to face the day once again, though her body still refused to work properly. Yawning and stretching in an effort to get her blood coursing through her veins, she eventually managed to sit up and slide out of bed, shivering as her delicate feet met the cold, hardwood floor. Lord Husband had this manor commissioned for his sister and Brother-in-Law long before securing his glorious victory against Bai Qi, but as he prioritized constructing public infrastructure over private domiciles, the manor was only finished a week before new years. Thus, Luo-Luo had gifted them the manor in Lord Husband’s place, thinking they would be all too happy to move out of their tiny, cramped yurt and into a proper home, but from the looks of things, they had yet to move in. Nothing had changed since Luo-Luo last saw the manor, the building left completely empty save for the necessary furniture she’d so thoughtfully sourced and provided.
Had she known they’d be staying here for the night, Luo-Luo would have packed her large incense censer to warm the room, and perhaps a rug for the bedside and some art to decorate the walls. A tasteful scroll or scenic painting would do wonders to liven things up by adding a splash of colour to the otherwise earthen tones. In this world full of tedious trials and tenebrific tribulations, it was important to find joy wherever one could in order to counteract out all the struggle and hardship, but for all their talk of Balance, the Bekhai cared little for art and beauty. Even Brother-in-Law Charok, who was a phenomenal artist and craftsman, cared little for his work, claiming his ability to create lifelike carvings was merely something to keep his hands busy while otherwise idle.
A shame, for if he cared to, he could earn a veritable fortune with his work, but he refused to take up woodworking full-time or even craft a few pieces for his new manor. Aside from her bed and Noodle’s travel enclosure, the room was devoid of all other furniture, lacking even a chair or nightstand for her to lay out her things, and the rest of the rooms were much the same. Belatedly realizing the lack of furniture meant she had to wait on Sorya and Anrhi to arrive before she could begin getting ready for the day, Luo-Luo tip-toed over to rouse her darling little snake who was no longer all that little. Gone was the tiny reptile who used to curl up in the palm of her hand, and in its place was an emerald beast that stretched almost thirty centimetres from tip to tail. Despite growing so quickly and still being only a third of her adult size, Noodle would always be Luo-Luo’s beloved treasure, a loyal and affectionate companion despite what others might believe.
Stroking Noodle’s head with the back of her finger, Luo-Luo gently roused her little darling from slumber, a slow and gradual process that required patience and prudence. The cold nights were hard on her, but for Noodle, they could be deadly, as snakes were unable to generate body heat. That was one reason why the poor thing had gotten so fat and bloated at first, not just because of Luo-Luo’s ignorant overfeeding, but also because it was almost too cold for a snake to digest food properly. To counteract the cold, Luo-Luo modified Noodle’s enclosure for better insulation and had it mounted on top of a ventilated heating pan in order to keep the cold-blooded darling alive and well. The embers had all but died out overnight, but Luo-Luo had carefully monitored and kept notes on Noodle’s condition every morning, afternoon, and night for months, which helped her to pinpoint exactly how much fuel the snake’s enclosure would need to keep Noodle safe and comfortable at all times.
Even then, it took a long minute for the slumbering beauty to wake and acknowledge Luo-Luo’s presence, time she used to take in the mesmerizing patterns depicted across her rough, ridged scales, a radiant shade of brilliant green highlighted with splashes of dazzling golden yellow that bled into a smooth, white under-belly. Oh how Luo-Luo yearned to capture Noodle’s vivid colours and irregular angles on canvas, but despite using all of the considerable resources at her disposal to find the right paints, nothing even came close to emulating Noodle’s scintillating magnificence. The morning sun seemed to glisten off of her every scale, which jutted out like tiny spikes protruding from her armoured form, and if dragons truly existed, Luo-Luo imagined they would look much like this. It still felt odd referring to the snake as female, as they’d spent months assuming she was a he, but Luo-Luo loved Noodle all the more now that they knew the truth. It seemed silly to even think it, but Luo-Luo had so little in common with the darling snake, this made sharing a gender feel all that much more special, even if it made no discernible difference to their relationship.
Slowly blinking as she came away, Noodle revealed her sparkling, incandescent eyes, vibrant golden pools of diffuse sunlight surrounding a slit of midnight darkness, and Luo-Luo saw recognition spark in her expression. Oscillating from side to side as she pushed herself up, Noodle gently slithered up Luo-Luo’s arm and settled around her neck and shoulders, still not quite ready to start the day but more than happy to snuggle in close. Though some might think Noodle only sought her out for warmth, the darling snake would not do this with anyone else, not even Lin-Lin who was equally enamoured with the beautiful creature’s exquisite aesthetics.
Not many others appreciated poor Noodle’s beauty, not even the animals of the manor. Aside from Ping Ping who was friendly with everyone, the bears, rabbits, and wildcats were wary of the snake, while the quins and laughing birds eyed her like their next prospective meal. Truly an unfortunate moniker for such a magnificent beast, but despite all his winning qualities, Lord Husband’s naming sense left much to be desired.
A knock at the door announced Sorya and Anrhi’s arrival, twin bundles of boundless cheer and enthusiasm that were almost too much to handle this early in the morning. “Oh goodness, milady,” Anrhi gasped, shaking her head in frightful over-exaggeration as she rummaged through her rucksack in search of ointment. “The shadows under your eyes just keep getting darker and darker.”
“Hardly a surprise at that,” Sorya chimed in, the two of them having taken to lecturing Luo-Luo in their own endearing way. “It’s always the same, toiling away until the moon is high in the sky only to wake with the sunrise. Admirable is what it is, but there are limits, milady. There’s a reason it’s beauty sleep, you know? Lady Mila and Lady Lin-Lin understand well enough, just look at their gorgeous skin and luxurious hair.”
Though others might take umbrage over being lectured by their handmaidens, Luo-Luo loved them like they were her own sisters, even if they behaved more like mothers at times. “There’s just so much to do, and I work better at night. Regardless if it’s composing a song or poring over a legal document, there’s something about the flickering candlelight which sets my mind aflame.” Hugging Sorya tight before she could start clucking about something else, Luo-Luo closed her eyes while Anrhi’s dabbed lotion around them and added, “Besides, Yan wakes just as early as I do, and I don’t see her suffer any for it.” The woman had a pale, vibrant complexion others would kill to possess, all without the use of lotions, creams, unguents, or oils. All she did was use regular soap to wash her face, the same variety she used to clean her hands, and somehow came away with lush, moisturized cheeks and a healthy, radiant glow.
“Aye, and birds can fly, but no amount of flappin’ yer arms’ll save ye if the guards pitch ye off the walls.” Pinching Luo-Luo’s cheeks with what she imagined was an impish smile, Sorya continued, “No sense comparing yerself with anyone else, because the Mother Above makes each of us special.”
“Even two sisters who shared the same womb.” As Luo-Luo opened her eyes, she caught the two sisters share a bittersweet smile as Anrhi squeezed Sorya’s hand and explained, “Our Ma used to say it all the time, that we are each different in our own unique ways. Not just twins, but all people, and what works for one might or might not work for another.”
“A wise woman, your mother.” One whose story did not end well, Luo-Luo presumed, seeing as how both her daughters ended up sold into slavery, but at least they were happy now. There was no love lost for their estranged father however, the Ancestral Rat Gang Shu, as both women had ignored him even while he lay upon what might well have been his deathbed, and Luo-Luo imagined they would have lost no sleep if he’d passed away instead of Guan Suo. It saddened her to see their strained relationship, for even though her own parents had given her away, Luo-Luo always imagined how they would meet again and perhaps even one day be a family again.
But alas, such dreams were not meant to be, for Luo-Luo was an unwanted daughter, much like Gang Shu did not want sweet Anrhi and Sorya and only had eyes for his sons.
Breaking off the topic to coo at Noodle and apologize for disturbing her morning nap, Anrhi set to work on Luo-Luo’s hair with brush and oil, while Sorya presented outfits for her to choose. After settling on a suitably appropriate dress, she bundled up in her silk-lined cotton overcoat, threw on a fur-lined hooded cloak, and put on a set of thick winter gloves to ward away the chill, prompting a chorus of giggles from the twins. “Are ye prepared for the harrowing trek across the courtyard to the dining room, milady?” Sorya asked, making no effort to hide her teasing tone. “Forgive this one for not readying the carriage, but alas, if we set out now, we might reach the end of our journey within a minute’s time. Difficult I know, but ye’ll survive and be that much stronger for it.”
“Hmph.” Linking arms with Anrhi, Luo-Luo shook her head and eyed her handmaiden’s clothes, an airy silken dress that left the shoulders and arms bare. A sleeved shawl kept the woman modest, but one so fine and transparent she could almost see the beauty marks upon her smooth, pale skin. “You laugh, but this is how normal people dress to face the cold.” Believing they’d already spent all of their wages and had nothing left, Luo-Luo had jackets and cloaks made for her handmaidens to match her own, but while they lavished praise on the outfits and truly appreciated the gift, they only ever wore them to look presentable for guests and dignitaries. The rest of the time, they were more than comfortable walking about in their regular clothes, much like the other Northerners in and around Luo-Luo’s new family.
Some didn’t even bother with that much, like Marshal Yuzhen’s gorgeous hunk of a husband who had a habit of stripping down to the waist while Demonstrating the Forms in the courtyard of their private manor. Luo-Luo had seen him like that every time she’d gone over to visit, regardless if it was morning, noon, or night, and for a time, she thought the Mother had perfected the male form with his creation.
Then again, while Lord Husband was not as strapping or bulky, his slim, fit figure was even more appealing to Luo-Luo’s tastes, one she first witnessed in its entirety last night. No wonder Sister Mila and Sister Yan were so frustrated with his unresponsiveness, as Luo-Luo could well imagine how fetching he would appear while glistening with sweat and steam...
“Oh milady,” Anrhi crooned, patting Luo-Luo’s arm in a pitying manner and wholly unaware of the lascivious thoughts going through her head. “If ye think the weather cold now, then I fear yer first winter back home will be an eye opening experience indeed. This here is akin to a cool Northern summer, and there ain’t nothing to fear with a wall to block out the breeze and the sun’s warmth kissin’ yer skin.”
Beating back the dread she felt at the mere mention of a Northern winter, Luo-Luo shook her head and sighed. “Back home in the East, it rarely ever snowed, and even then usually only during the coldest of months. I cannot remember waking to a single new years day where the rooftops were covered in frost, much less snow or ice, so this is already plenty cold by my measure.” Granted, there was no snow on the ground here either, but there had been for some weeks, and beautiful as it was to look out over the frost-dusted Citadel streets with a wintry backdrop, Luo-Luo yearned to feel warm again. “I don’t know how you stomach the cold, I truly don’t. It’s been hours since I felt my toes.”
To Luo-Luo’s surprise, Sorya and Anrhi let out a collective gasp before seating her down on the bed, with the latter gently holding her in place while the other lifted her feet and checked her toes. “Wiggle them for me milady, if ye please.” The last bit was more of an afterthought as Sorya’s tone brooked no refusal, so Luo-Luo did as she was told. Patting her chest with relief, Sorya sighed and rubbed Luo-Luo’s feet. “Mercy me, you worried me there for a second.”
A bit of an overreaction perhaps, but they were only looking out for her health. As such, Luo-Luo swallowed her laughter and gently helped Sorya up with a smile. “Come now, it was hardly cold enough for frostbite, not here inside the manor.”
Though the sisters tried to match her smile, they both failed miserably. “Sorry Milady,” they chimed in unison, before Anrhi explained, “Twas always a real danger fer us, back in Sanshu. We’d spend all night huddled together with Ma beneath the blankets, and the first thing we’d do each morning was check our toes fer frostbite.”
Because coal and firewood were viewed as expensive luxuries for impoverished families living in the city, rather than the vital, life-saving necessities they actually were. The same went for food and clean water, or so Luo-Luo had discerned, and it amazed her that the girls were still so chipper and bright despite all the hardships they’d lived through. Luo-Luo desperately wanted to give the girls a life of comfort and happiness, but they were so modest and reserved that even giving them a fortune would mean nothing, since they would simply spend it all on charitable efforts. That’s where all their pay went, to filling the bellies of hungry children living on the streets, a far more effective solution than anything Luo-Luo had tried.
Her shortcomings made her appreciate Lord Husband’s efforts even more, for he’d lain out plans long ago to ensure the common people of the Citadel had access to all their basic necessities at an affordable price, but even his beautiful, far-seeing eyes could not have predicted this current predicament. On paper, there should not be any homeless living in the Citadel, but there was no accounting for human greed. Even before the Citadel was built, it’d become something of a mark of honour to own a home here, as if that alone were a declaration of confidence in the Empire’s properity, but lately, matters had gotten out of hand. Someone had taken to buying houses in bulk in the civilian districts, no doubt hoping to resell the land to some wealthy fool hoping to tear everything down and build themselves a Citadel manor, but there were measures in place to restrict the types of buildings that were allowed in each precinct. The civilian precincts were only zoned for cheap, affordable housing and the shops required to service their needs, so at first, Luo-Luo had paid no mind to this blatant attempt at profiteering, but she underestimated this particular fool’s stubborn determination. Even after having multiple rezoning proposals rejected by Marshal Yuzhen, the buyer refused to sell his land at a loss and move on, causing rent costs to rise astronomically as demand overshadowed supply. Despite this, the source of her headache continued buying properties at an accelerated rate, no doubt hoping to corner the market and force Marshal Yuzhen to a different decision, a move which led other speculators to join in on the action and caused housing speculation to spiral wildly out of control.
There were plenty of economic consequences to these actions, but the most obvious of which was all the commoners who’d been priced out of house and home. Those who sold thinking to buy a new house were out of luck, and there were plenty of financially insecure commoners who valued hard coin over home and hearth. Now, the streets were cluttered with displaced workers and their families, while a vast number of perfectly usable houses sat empty and unused. To make matters worse, the new owners had taken to hiring local thugs to keep squatters from moving in, which was well within their legal rights, but still left a bad taste in Luo-Luo’s mouth.
At least these displaced paupers had food a plenty thanks to Lord Husband’s plans, though Luo-Luo was appalled by the lengths some merchants would go to in order to make a profit, like negotiating purchase orders on all foodstuffs and reselling at an absurd markup, which she easily countered by selling grains and vegetables from the Imperial Army’s stores and placing a military order to purchase all goods brought in through the Citadel gates at a set price. Oddly enough, the merchants who attempted to fleece the good people of the Citadel ended up holding onto their goods until they spoiled, losing their investment and foiling Luo-Luo’s plans to purchase it at a lower price. This meant the Army food stores were dangerously low, but with so many farmers living along the border and the constant shipments arriving from the North, she anticipated their reserves would be back to a healthy level within a few weeks.
Even then, this was only enough to ensure the common people had enough to fill their bellies, but luxuries like meat, spices, and sweets were in short supply. Worse, there were always slackers and opportunists willing to let their children go hungry and without homes in order to save a few coppers more, and it broke Luo-Luo’s heart to see them suffer so. If Lord Husband were here, he would simply damn the consequences and feed all the children, as he had back in the Northern Province, but this crisis wasn’t only limited to the Northern Citadel. Even Lord Husband couldn’t afford to feed every hungry child living along the border, not due to lack of coin, but because the millions of families who worked hard to provide for their families would feel slighted and overlooked. Why were some children fed for free while others left to fend on their own? What was to keep well-off families from sending their idle children out for a free meal, if only to lighten the burden on the family coffers? Securing food was no issue, but how was Luo-Luo to distribute it without pilferage? The world was full of unscrupulous characters, and she could only imagine how they would happily feed children dirt and sawdust while selling the donated foodstuffs and pocketing the profits, which was only one of many nightmare scenarios which Luo-Luo had come up with.
And so, even though Sorya and Anrhi couldn’t feed everyone, they did far more than Luo-Luo had with all her late night scheming. There was only so much hardship the commoners of the Empire could suffer, and though this was a crisis much of their own devising, the Citadels were ready to boil over with tension and unrest. By all rights, she should have been back in the Citadel last night tackling yet another effort to introduce a tax on empty estates, but Lord Husband had his miraculous recovery and Luo-Luo’s time was all spent planning for his triumphant return. Despite his odd behaviour, she just knew he would have all the answers she so desperately needed and somehow turn this crisis around on its head.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t wait on Lord Husband’s recovery and intended to return to the Citadel after breakfast, mostly to see to several matters that required her personal attention. Winter’s frigid bite was not all that stood to greet her outside in the courtyard, for Gunan was also there, waiting by the entrance to the hallway which led to her room. “Consort Luo,” he uttered, bowing with such precision she suspected it would be perfect down to the last angle. “If we could have a word in private?”
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Despite all the assurances she gave on Sorya and Anrhi’s behalf, nothing Luo-Luo said could ever convince Gunan they were trustworthy. Then again, he suspected everyone and everything, even the birds perched on the walls of the manor, because it was simply in his nature to be suspicious. Not the worst trait for a spymaster to cultivate, but one which made him all but insufferable to deal with, if only because it gave the game away if they carried out all their conversations behind a Sound Barrier. MuYang played his part much better, but his face became too well-known after the incident with the Confessor, to which MuYang’s solution was to never show his face in public ever again.
A bit extreme, but caution was another quality worth cultivating in a spymaster...
Once the two handmaidens were away, Luo-Luo gestured for Gunan to speak, to which he responded by contrarily Sending, “Lieutenant General Akanai has advised me to keep you here in the manor, as there may be treachery afoot in the Citadel and manpower cannot be spared to protect you.”
Treachery? Immediately, Luo-Luo’s mind jumped to Father-in-Law’s ‘new’ subordinate, the lazily-disguised Gao Liang, who was in fact, Gao Changgong, decorated Major General of the West, the highest ranked soldier to emerge from the Western Province who had yet to turn Defiled. Despite knowing Lord Husband had helped facilitate the illegal crossing of tens of thousands of soldiers and their families fleeing the Western Province, the possibility that any one of these refugees might be Defiled did not escape anyone’s notice. No doubt Lord Husband intended to inspect them personally, as Marshal Yuzhen had let slip that he could sense the Father’s foul touch upon a person’s soul, something the savvy Marshal had thought Luo-Luo had already known. Though hurt by this lack of trust, Luo-Luo understood why everyone had kept this secret from her, as it was almost too far-fetched to believe and far too dangerous if whispered in the wrong ears. It was well know that the Defiled could recognize one another, like attracting like to better bring them together and cause maximum chaos and carnage, so for Lord Husband to boast the ability to do the same would open him up to unsavoury accusations.
Unfortunately, before he could complete his grand schemes and inspect Gao Chonggong’s refugees, Lord Husband fell into a coma after summoning a miracle to the battlefield, a storm unlike any Luo-Luo had ever before seen and one that was still spoken of in whispers to signify reverence.
The rain fell and the Defiled fled, despite still holding the advantage in open battle. This, more than anything else, was the reason for the Imperial victory, because while the combined forces led by three Colonel Generals would have eventually emerged victorious against Bai Qi’s Defiled forces, there would have been a hefty butcher’s bill to pay for their victory, or rather heftier than it already was. One only needed to look at the numbers to know this for truth, because Colonel General Nian Zu and the deceased Tiger Slayer Tran Hoang had not fared even a tenth as well. The forces that fought at Castle Wulin and Castle Youxia took a vicious beating before driving the Enemy back, and after the soldiers of the North connected the rains with the same phenomenon that drove the Defiled away from the Northern Bridge, there were many who believed Lord Husband responsible for it all.
Wholly untrue, for when the rain fell upon the Northern Bridge, Lord Husband had been busy saving Sanshu from the clutches of the Defiled King of Bandits Yo Ling, but Luo-Luo had done nothing to discredit the rumours. Nor was she foolish enough to try and capitalize on them either, as even indirect confirmation would blow back on Lord Husband once the facts came to light. A mistake her enemies no doubt expected her to make, but Luo-Luo had thus far kept things from spiralling into disaster, and she wasn’t about to spoil it all with an easily disproved lie.
If the lie were harder to disprove however, she might have been open to using it to her advantage, such as with the newly minted Stormguard, whose ranks comprised solely of Irregulars who’d been elevated to the ranks of Martial Warriors thanks to that same, miraculous storm. Even those who sought employment elsewhere believed Lord Husband responsible for their good fortune, but their reasoning left much to be desired. Most simply believed it, for no real reason than ‘they just know’, while others claimed they heard him speaking to them, as if he were a True Divinity in his own right. Then there were those who simply thought that the rainfall was a sign from the Mother pointing directly at Falling Rain. Silly to even consider, but they were many fervent believers, and three-thousand of them were devoted Martial Warriors who were not to be taken lightly.
Especially not ones who’ve endured three, long months of gruelling training under Luo-Luo’s merciless Mother-in-Law, Akanai of the Bekhai. Having inspected the camps once, she said a prayer every night for those poor Martial Warriors, and grew to fear her in-laws even more...
Alas, Mother-in-Law Akanai’s warning was far too vague, as there were many possible traitors to be wary of. Rang Min was another possibility, having been ousted as Patriarch and cast from the Society, only for Marshal Yuzhen to swoop in and offer protection. There was no arguing that man was brilliant and a most effective ally in these trying times, but this only made him all the more fearsome as a likely foe. Though some might say Yuzhen was riding a tiger, it would be foolish of Rang Min to act now, not with all the measures they had in place. Then again, if the Enemy were to blame for this treachery, then it might well be anyone, for there was no telling who might be listening to the Father’s whispered lies and carrying out His foul work in the darkest of nights. This more than anything is what made the Enemy so insidiously effective and frightening, the fact that it was so difficult to tell friend and foe apart.
Having let her thoughts get away from her, Luo-Luo refocused on the issue at hand. “Most everything can be tabled or handled via correspondence, but I’ve a meeting scheduled with Liu Xuande and the other Imperial Scions,” she said, thinking out loud for Gunan’s benefit. “I fear it would not be appropriate to ask them to travel here to conduct business, not after coming all the way from their respective posts in the Central and Southern Citadels.” Face and courtesy aside, she didn’t want to risk any of them seeing Lord Husband in his current condition, because while the Imperial Scions were most useful allies, Luo-Luo’s teachers had all agreed on one simple fact: the hearts of men were fickle indeed. Who knew what Xuande or the others might do if they thought Lord Husband’s plight permanent? Even if they could all be trusted, they were still loyal to the Imperial Clan first, as all Scions should be, and any one of the Supreme Families would happily pay a vast fortune to learn of Lord Husband’s weakened state. Thus far, there had been no repercussions for Yang Jixing’s death, but the dagger hanging over their heads had not been forgotten, not by Luo-Luo at least. “What would you suggest we do?”
“Reschedule until we know more.” Shrugging apologetically, he explained, “The Lieutenant General was not very forthcoming with details regarding the danger, and Lady Sarnai assures me she has no earthly idea what her Mother-in-Law was going on about.” The last was said with a sour face, and Luo-Luo could imagine the prickly woman delivering the message with a scathing rebuke. Gunan, as already noted, was suspicious of everyone, and he could be irritatingly persistent when he thought someone was hiding something, a quality Mother-in-Law Sarnai did not suffer well.
“Very well. Take Xuande into your confidence and privately let him know that Lord Husband is stressed and overworked from the burdens of his office. As such, he has insisted on taking some time to relax whilst he still can, and wants his entire family to accompany him.” Xuande was their leader, as the others looked to him for guidance, so soothing his concerns should be enough in the interim. Over the past few months, twisting the truth had become second nature for Luo-Luo, but she still disliked lying to and manipulating her allies. If Xuande were to ever discover the truth, he might well be put off even if he understood the necessity. No one liked to be lied to, as it struck a blow to the pride in so many different ways, but alas, as Lord Husband was so fond of saying, needs must.
With her schedule freed up for the day, Luo-Luo skipped off to pay Lord Husband a visit before breakfast only to find Sister Yan had already stolen a march, snuggled up beside him as he sat with Mama Bun in his arms and leaning heavily on Aurie beside him. “Morning Luo-Luo,” Yan chimed, chortling as Mama Bun alternated between kissing Lord Husband’s cheek and hers. The other rabbits were gathered around them while Ping Ping dozed off at Lord Husband’s feet, the bunnies all patiently waiting their turn lest their mother turn around and teach them their place, a gaggle of well trained troops and their viciously savage matriarch.
So very similar to the Bekhai in some ways, though Luo-Luo could not imagine Akanai begging for favours and treats from anyone, not even the Mother herself.
Stepping carefully around the reckless rabbits, Luo-Luo collected sweet George into her arms and sat down lest he try and wedge himself under her, as the silly rabbit did so love to be squished. Shoulder to shoulder with Aurie, she peered past the sweet wildcat at her expressionless Lord Husband and greeted him with the brightest, most energetic smile she could muster at this early hour. “Good morning, Lord Husband. I trust you slept well in the company of so many adorable pets.”
Wry amusement was the response she received, or at least that was how she would label it, and she could imagine him saying something along the lines of, “Jealous?”, or a sarcastic apology for stealing her snuggling companion. It was incredible how much nuance could be found in a brief burst of Emotional Aura, lacking the overwhelming strength and simplicity of Li-Li’s Aura, but with a much wider range open to interpretation. Complicating matters was how these emotions were uniquely Lord Husband’s, who experienced and expressed his emotions in his own unique way, and much like the difference between regional dialects, it took more than a little effort to understand Lord Husband’s mood.
Especially now, for underneath his cordial greeting and light teasing was a lining of opaque melancholy, a grim, sombre sensation Luo-Luo knew all too well. It was anguish born from a lack of hope, a discouraged acceptance of wretched despair laced with determination to see it through to the end, acceptance without ambition and resignation without surrender. This was how she felt when she waited all those years, languishing away in the Academy without purpose or expectation. Yesterday, he’d been so full of love, warmth, and kindness, all of which was still there today, but something weighed heavily upon his mind, something so cumbersome even Yan, Aurie, and Mama Bun combined were not enough to buoy his spirits.
He blamed himself for something, believed he erred in some way, and he could not forgive himself for this transgression. Perhaps he was upset his foes slipped away, or he could be sulking over Princess’s refusal to cuddle, one could not tell with Lord Husband. Yan and the animals also sensed his mood, and the courtyard felt darker for it, so Luo-Luo decided she would do something about it. Eyeing Yan in question, she mouthed a single word, and the woman shrugged in reply as if to say, “It couldn’t hurt.” With that vote of confidence in hand, she went back to her room and returned with her zither, which she promptly set up and tuned. Once all was in place, she set her fingers to strumming, matching her music to the tones of Lord Husband’s Aura. Low, heavy notes that lingered in the air, resonating with gloom and despair, but among these, she mixed in shorter, lighter notes, little bursts of joy he felt as he noticed everyone’s efforts around him. Aurie’s cuddles, Mama Bun’s kisses, Yan’s fingers running through his hair, this and more pierced through his despair, but like throwing a rock into the sea, the despair rushed back in to fill him.
Having taken the measure of his mood, Luo-Luo set to subtly altering it by pouring her own emotions into the music to counteract his despair. She knew how he felt, and now he knew it too, for she had lived with this same despair for years. She too thought there was no hope, that the future was set in stone, but the Mother always leaves another path. Luo-Luo was here now, happy and fulfilled, and though her life was not as she’d imagined it, it was a life full of love, joy, and even hope, hope that she would one day be as loved as Yan, Mila, and Lin-Lin.
Yesterday was hard. Today will be even harder, but who knows what tomorrow has in store? This was the sentiment Luo-Luo endeavoured to share with Lord Husband, for never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would hold a position of authority in the outer provinces, that her opinion and expertise would not only be sought for, but appreciated and cherished. Nor did she expect to enjoy Martial training as much as she did, well on her way to becoming a Warrior of note, even if the thought of actual combat scared her something fierce. There was always tomorrow, she told him, so do not give in to despair.
Musically, her song was simplistic to the extreme, not even one-tenth as technically demanding as Rise to Glory and lacking any and all mysticism within it. However, it was a song filled with her love and support, and though there was no Aura about it, Luo-Luo sensed that Lord Husband could understand her message and even appreciated her efforts greatly. Though his mood remained heavy and sombre, his gratitude shone through his Aura, and as she gazed into his expressive eyes mounted upon an expressionless face, she felt his emotions a stirring. He enjoyed Luo-Luo’s company, admired her abilities, trusted her deeply, and even cared for her as a person, but he was not in love with her, nor did he believe she was in love with him. More self-deprecation there, but so ingrained it seemed inseparable from the rest, and underneath it all, Luo-Luo sensed his heartfelt admiration and even a sense of... not quite desire, but a longing to desire. Though lacking the fiery passion so evident in his love for Sister Mila and Sister Yan, there was still hope for Luo-Luo yet, a revelation which filled her with joy and delight.
Yesterday, she wasn’t even sure if Lord Husband liked her, much less even wanted her around, but now, she was determined to break through his shell and win him over, just like she’d won over Jimjam. Not out of purpose or duty, but because Lord Husband was wrong; she had fallen head over heels in love with him, a magnificent and affectionate paragon of a man.
“Beautifully played,” Yan said, beaming with gratitude and adoration as Luo-Luo put her zither away, much to Jimjam’s vocal chagrin. “However,” Yan continued, flashing her devilish half-smile, “I feel the need to point out how you have forgotten something yet again, twice in fact, considering you went back to your room and returned without it once more.”
While Luo-Luo pondered this riddle, more wry amusement radiated from Lord Husband after a short delay, whereupon he then uttered, “Weapon.”
Cheeks flushing with embarrassment, Luo-Luo realized she’d left her sceptre behind in her room, a mistake which would normally have Yan scowling with displeasure. “Honestly,” Yan declared, shaking her head in amused disbelief, “How do you keep forgetting it? I would sooner leave my head behind than either one of my weapons, it just doesn’t feel right if I don’t have them with me.”
“I don’t know,” Luo-Luo confessed, all her accomplishments forgotten as she clutched her zither to her chest, wishing it could shield her from this shame. “It’s just... you all speak of this connection with your Weapons, but I feel that connection regardless of if I’m holding it or not.”
Without waiting for a response, Luo-Luo ran back to her room again to fetch her weapon and returned with burning cheeks, which she presumed would go perfectly with her cold-reddened nose and make her look the fool. Lord Husband was still there with Yan beside him, but Sister-in-Law Alsantset and sweet Tali were now seated on either side of the pair, leaving Luo-Luo no option but to sit further away. Choosing the side with darling Tali, she settled in to watch adorable Tate demonstrate the Forms, though Luo-Luo’s eyes were more drawn to lovely Li-Li overseeing Princess’ wrestling match against her larger cousins Banjo and Baloo. Lord Husband watched them as well, his mood much improved as he sat with the ghost of a smile etched across his face, though Luo-Luo noted his eyes were periodically drawn over to Tate as well, brimming with love, pride, and just a hint of confusion, though over what, she could not say.
About halfway through Tate’s Demonstration, Lord Husband came to his feet and strode over to Tate, who stopped mid-movement to see what all the fuss was about. “Is somethin’ the matter, Rainy?” he asked, his soft voice as pleasant as a ringing chime. Again, no answer seemed forthcoming, but Tate received something through Aura said, “Okay.” Picking up where he left off, he continued, or at least tried to until Lord Husband stepped on his foot. Gently and without force, a comically restrained tap more than anything, but this was clearly a premeditated action and another form of communication altogether. Wonderful news for them all, but Sister-in-Law Alsantset cautioned them all to silence with a sharp gesture of the hand, and Luo-Luo dared not risk her ire. Out in the courtyard, Tate frowned at Lord Husband before retreating away, who also did the same. Then, clever Tate tried the same movement again, and again, Lord Husband stopped him with his foot. There was nothing else, not that Luo-Luo could discern, but she could almost see how effectively Lord Husband’s Aura was conveying his message, one only Tate could hear and interpret.
The next time Tate moved, Lord Husband did not correct him, and while Luo-Luo saw no difference, Sister Yan and Sister-in-Law Alsantset both nodded in approval. Tate continued his Demonstration for a few more movements until Lord Husband moved again, this time tapping his nephew’s forehead with his index finger. This repeated a few times until Yan caught Luo-Luo’s inquisitive gaze, to which she replied through Sending. “Rain is pointing out fundamental flaws in Tate’s movements, but ones that are... subtle and difficult to correct. To start, Tate was putting too much weight on his back foot, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but it leaves him open to a simple counter targeted at his lower body. The solution is to evenly spread one’s weight out over the course of the movement, which will allow him to advance or withdraw without being on the back foot, so to speak. A concept that is difficult to explain as it requires a personal touch to understand, since only you can tell if you are distributing your weight equally. It’s something Tate would’ve eventually figured out on his own, but Rain is guiding Tate to confront the problem years, if not decades before he would figure this out on his own.” Turning her gaze back to the training pair, Yan glowed with such warmth and affection, Luo-Luo could feel it even in the absence of an Aura. “Tate probably thinks it was something minor like he was moving too fast or not smoothly enough, but once he gets the feeling of the movement right, he’ll always notice when it’s wrong, and that knowledge will stay with him as he grows and progresses. A wonderful lesson taught by an insightful Warrior, so be sure not to miss a second.”
Lord Husband’s training with Tate lasted for another quarter hour, most of which he spent staring at the Princess and the bears, though he still continued guiding his nephew with startling efficiency. Once Tate’s lesson was over with, he hugged Lord Husband tight and whispered, “Thanks Rainy. This was fun.” Urged on by her mother, Tali took her brother’s place, flowing into her graceful Movements with little to no ceremony at all. Her style of Demonstration was rather similar to Luo-Luo’s, more of a dance than Martial routine that was a spectacle to behold, but Lord Husband didn’t miss a beat and joined her, stepping, twirling, and guiding her about in an attempt to show her how to better utilize the Movements while she laughed and shrieked in delight. When it was all over, Tate proudly announced that he had less ‘errors’ and ‘Rainy’ had to work harder to teach Tali, but judging by the knowing looks shared between Sister Yan and Sister-in-Law Alsantset, it was actually the reverse and Lord Husband only acted more because Tali was further along and capable of understanding more.
Poor boy, he worked so hard at his Forms everyday, only to be surpassed by his uninterested sister...
“Your turn, it seems,” Sister Yan said, interrupting Luo-Luo just as she was about to give Tate a comforting hug. “Seems like Rain’s in a dancing mood today.”
Having received no invitation through Aura, Luo-Luo almost tried to correct Sister Yan, only to find Lord Husband with branch in hand and pointed in her direction, like a swordsman ready for a duel. No, not a swordsman, but a maceman, for he held his branch the same way she held her sceptre, between his index and middle finger with her fourth and fifth fingers curled around the shaft. Approval and impatience radiated from him, and before she knew it, Luo-Luo stood before him with weapon in hand, taking a two-handed defensive posture to counter his offensive one-handed stance.
And then the music sounded in Luo-Luo’s heart, and she set her feet and weapon to dancing.
Back and forth they went in a flurry of steps and blows, her movements guided by his as he led her through a deadly rendition of her modified Forms. The movements were all there, so familiar and recognizable, but the difference lay in the subtle distinctions he drew out from within her. By standing a little further away, he turned step-step shuffle into step-step slide, subtly altering the beat of the music which only she could hear, and the difference was clear as night and day. It was exactly like Sister Yan said, for there was no describing the change, only that it felt right and Luo-Luo could never go back to the way things were before.
Round and round they went, like partners twirling about the stage, and as soon as she fell into the rhythm, Lord Husband launched his first attack. Having sensed the crescendo in the music beforehand, she anticipated the strike and countered with a glancing parry. Pushing the offensive, he put her through her paces, and the clack of wood on steel only emphasized the rhythm of their dance as he chained his first attack into a flurry of strikes. Dizzying as the display might be, she found herself defending with ease as her hands moved to precisely where they needed to be, just like finding the right strings and positions on her zither. Round and round they went, dancing about the courtyard in near flawless harmony, her body responding to him before she even understood what was happening, and after a while, she gave up on trying and simply gave into the music.
It was wonderful, so wonderful it almost hurt when they stopped, though she belatedly realized that pain was the burning in her lungs and calves. Lord Husband on the other hand had barely broken a sweat, once again radiating wry concern as if to say, “Gotta work harder than that if you want to keep up.”
Finding her seat to the sound of Tali’s applause, Luo-Luo fanned herself to keep cool while Anrhi dabbed at her forehead with a handkerchief and Sorya fussed with a teapot that had yet to boil. Breathless and unable to speak, she tried to greet Mother-in-Law Sarnai who’d made an appearance while Luo-Luo was dancing with Lord Husband, but the stern woman waved it off with an uncharacteristically warm smile. “Well done,” she said, patting Luo-Luo’s head as she took a seat on the veranda beside her. “You have come far in so short a time, though you have a long way to go yet. Patience and dedication will carry you far along the Martial Path, but do not grow complacent, for your journey has only just begun.”
That was all Mother-in-Law Sarnai had to say, but her actions spoke volumes as she wrapped her arm around Luo-Luo and held her close, a reassuring presence to help hold her up lest she faint of sheer exhaustion. Concerned for her well-being, Jimjim planted his head against her shoulder and even stayed there when Noodle came out to investigate the disturbance, only uttering a small, plaintive mewl after she retreated back into Luo-Luo’s hood. Kissing the sweet wildcat on the nose, Luo-Luo grinned and rested her head on Mother-in-Law Sarnai’s shoulder as Sister Yan set out for her turn to spar with Lord Husband, which made for a dazzling spectacle indeed.
Lord Husband was having difficulty speaking and carrying out basic tasks, and seemed in a foul, depressive mood, but considering his appearance last night and this demonstration today, it would appear that he not only recovered his Martial strength, his ability had also progressed by leaps and bounds since. Good news indeed, for as Legate of the Outer Provinces, Lord Husband would need his strength to retake full control of the Empire and drive the Enemy out of the Western Province as he pledged to do some three months ago.
And for the first time since hearing it, Luo-Luo believed it might actually be possible, for nothing was impossible for the Mother’s Chosen Son, Falling Rain of the Bekhai.
Chapter Meme