Princess Dawn

Xing'er did not say a word about what had happened. The half-hearted search parties were called off when she had arrived at the palace gates, blisters on her feet, blood and wine on her face and hands, and burrs in her hair. No one had really wanted to find her except Xin'liu, but rumors spread quickly about how she had bolted off, how she might be losing her mind or trying to run away. She didn't care. She had taken one look at Xin'liu's face and burst into tears again, and since then she had confined herself faithfully to her room. She was determined never to leave again until she was either dead or widowed. If her father himself had come knocking on her door, she would not leave. He had tricked her, too.

She feigned sickness, and this time most everyone believed her. She had looked rather shocking when she'd been escorted back to her chambers.

On the third day since the ordeal, her hope for a peaceful life fled completely.

She woke to the sound of feet thumping against the ground. The door to her chambers was flung open and Xin'liu rushed in, pushing her upright and starting to dress her hastily. "Xin'liu?" She asked, a little blearily. It was very early. The sun had not yet risen. "What are you doing?"

Before the other woman had a chance to answer, a man's voice announced outside, "The Prince Dawn has come to visit the Princess Dawn."

Xing'er was awake in an instant, bolting upright but not achieving anything else with her body, as she froze in place. He was visiting her. He knew. She supposed he would have had to be an idiot not to know, considering what she'd said and the cloak she'd left that had his crest stitched into the back of it at a massive scale. Xin'liu rushed out, leaving Xing'er still half-dressed, and through her fog of panic she heard her loyal maidservant tell them that the Princess was not ready to receive any visitors, and had been ill. Her heart sunk, as she somehow knew what was going to come next.

The Prince himself spoke, his smooth voice much stronger than it had been a few days ago. "I am her husband. Is it not a husband's right to see his wife improperly dressed?" She should have recognized that, too, from the wedding. He had spoken a few words, she should have recognized his voice. Never mind that it was three years ago or that it had been only a few words. If she had recognized him for who he was, she could have escaped without revealing herself. A couple more tears spilled onto her cheeks, though this time with anger at herself for not being smarter about her reaction. She hastily pulled her dress over her nightclothes, but had not time to properly arrange and fasten it by herself before the doors to her room opened and he stepped inside. He had thankfully left his entourage outside, but had unfortunately also commanded Xin'liu be left outside and not disturb them.

She had the presence of mind to stand politely when he entered, but only really being half-dressed ruined the formality of the whole process a little. She felt humiliated and angry that this was her first meeting with him after three years, but she would not cry in front of him again. She bowed to him properly, and greeted him with a, "Well met, Prince Dawn." She didn't raise her eyes to his, as was proper since she was beneath his station, but she kept her head held high.

He laughed, lightly. "Well met, my love." She snapped her eyes up to look him in the face, and realized that he had used the endearment on purpose, to get her to look at him. She flushed again with anger and shame and looked away stubbornly once more. He moved forward until she was within arm's reach and used one finger to lift her chin slightly, but she would not meet his gaze again. "I suppose the lady is disappointed she did not become a widow after all, thanks to her own efforts."

"I do not understand, Your Highness. To what do you refer?" She wasn't sure how she was holding onto her composure, but it wasn't by a very wide margin.

"Do you not remember? I believe Cheng'yi promised you a few days ago that you would have anything you desired if I should make a full recovery. So tell me, princess: what, other than my death, do you desire?" His voice was playful, and it made her quiver with rage. If he had spoken to her this way on their wedding night, she would have laughed, been overjoyed, bantered back. She would have given everything to him voluntarily.

Truthfully, she wanted a child, so people would stop laughing behind her back, but she was never ever going to let him know that, considering what he had put her through. "If I cannot have your death, can I not also have your absence? You have bestowed it upon me so graciously these past three years." Her voice sounded bitter even to her own ears.

"You hate me so much?" He said, not sounding entirely upset at the prospect. "Have these years of solitude been a blessing for you after all? I had not thought you had any opinion of me upon our wedding."

"I did not, your highness, but much changes in three years." She said, stiffly. "Will you grant my wish or not?"

The Prince laughed and said, "As the Princess Dawn, you should know well, I only grant wishes if they do not conflict with my own." For a horrible second, she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he let go of her chin and stepped away. "You will join me for dinner tonight."

And then he left, leaving her standing in her chamber, half-dressed and utterly dumbfounded. Xin'liu rushed back in. "He finally came, Your Highness!" She said, a little breathlessly. She sounded excited, but a slight frown of confusion was on her face. "Why do you think he came now? That man of his wouldn't let me close enough to hear what you talked about."

Xing'er dislodged her messy clothing, and simply said, "I am to have dinner in his chambers tonight. Xin'liu, I am going back to bed until then. Do not allow anyone to disturb me."

Xin'liu was stronger than her, in some ways. After being visited by the Prince after so long, it was inevitable that the other ladies in the palace and the princesses who were still throwing themselves at the Prince would come visit her to more actively make her life hell than usual. It was only one day's respite, but Xin'liu managed to keep them all out by protesting that the Prince had only come to visit because he had heard Xing'er had been badly sick. Everybody likely thought he had come because he had heard Xing'er had tried running away. The truth was worse.

Xing'er spent the day with her head under her pillow, desperately pretending to sleep, but when the time came for the small feast, she knew she was going to have to put herself through it. She allowed herself to be bathed and dressed, but refused the more extravagant embellishments. She was not going in there as if it was to be her wedding her night. He had refused her that, so she would refuse it of him this time, and wore her plainest dress. Xin'liu knew her. After the initial encounter, she understood that celebrations were not in order, though it had seemed like it at first, and she said not a word of encouragement through the preparations.

The Prince's men came to her door, saying they would escort her alone to the Prince's chambers. Xin'liu frowned at them, but said, "I will await your return, Princess."

"Thank you, Xin'liu." Xing'er replied, voice filled with gratitude, but tinged with despair.

The dinner was frustratingly intimate. The two of them were seated at a small, wooden table, filled with hearty, but simple food, and no one else had been allowed inside. By every appearance, it seemed as though he had finally decided she was worth consummating the marriage with. She thought that was what she had wanted this whole time, but she didn't want people to think she would throw herself into his bed after so much neglect. It would just make her look worse than she already did. Especially if he did not visit her again, it would seem that she had proven unsatisfactory.

They started the dinner silently, but eventually, the Prince spoke. "It appears that my Princess has grievances against her husband." He said, tone actually serious, finally. "I would hear them."

She did not look at him, pouring the warm wine into his cup. "What grudge could the Princess Dawn hold against the husband who has provided for her in every way, your highness?"

"Only you would hold the answer to that, Princess." He said, with a slight smirk in his voice, but the teasing tone lasted only for a moment. "As much as I enjoy playing with you, my dear, I would like your honesty for this dinner. Why do you hold so much anger against me?"

She put down her chopsticks and finally looked at him, that very anger burning in her eyes. She couldn't read his expression. It could have been anything. "With the reports of your sharp mind I had not imagined I had married a prince so utterly ignorant of the affairs of his own house!" She snapped, but he was unfazed.

"Simply knowing does not mean I do not wish to know it from your own mouth."

Folding her arms across her chest, she growled at him, "Then you only wish to be cruel?" She could feel those angry tears threatening again, but managed to hold them in this time.

He saw them anyways, leaning closer to her. "I wish to know my wife's thoughts, not assume them." He said, seriously. She could not help but feel a little touched by the sentiment, as she hadn't expected that much consideration, but she squashed the little feeling immediately.

"The Princess Dawn only grants wishes that coincide with her own, Your Highness." She retorted stiffly, repeating his words earlier that day back to him.

He laughed, it seemed he couldn't help it. "You are the most interesting women I have ever met." He said, an approving grin on his face.

She just shrugged and spat back, "You must not have met very many women, then, my Prince. The woman scorned by the kingdom's most powerful man can have very few charms to recommend her." Almost against her will, Xing'er found herself settling into a comfortable rhythm of conversation with him.

He grinned at her again, then sat back slightly and made the most remarkable response. "You are not wrong, Princess. You are, after all, my only wife, and I do not make it a habit to bed many women. My work is my true love."

Xing'er was, at once, surprised, angry, touched, and hurt. His honesty was refreshing, but his previous compliment fizzled in the face of his open admission, and it felt as though he was using his work to explain away her hurt and rejection. It was a complicated mix of emotions. He seemed to see them on her face, and returned to being serious. "Now, if you are going to be angry with me, be angry with me as you would, not as the Princess Dawn ought."

She thought about it for a while, then decided to honor the honesty he had given her. "I had no desire to become the Princess Dawn, but I had no objections to it because I had heard you were an honorable man, and believed you would treat me as such. But your very honorable reputation made it clear to others that there was some objection to me, one I had no understanding of. You could not possibly be deaf to the rumors that your wife was undesirable, unworthy of you, that it was a shame the Prince Dawn had been shackled to the dud of the Minister of Heavenly Arts' house." The longer she talked, the more the anger rose. "You did not have to favor me, to love me, nor refrain from taking any concubines or a second wife. If you had done the minimal portion of your duty, I would have at least been regarded as the plain Princess Dawn, who might not hold favor long, but at least was an acceptable wife. Instead, you couldn't be bothered! My father's disappearance casts a poor light on his family, but I am now the woman of your house. You are the Prince Dawn who is said to have the influence of the Emperor himself. Surely, accepting me as your wife could not have so greatly affected your reputation. And now to return after three years, only showing any interest in me because I happened to save your life. I have no desire to warm your bed simply because you find me interesting now that I have had the courage to be angry with you!"

He didn't interrupt that tirade, but as soon as it was clear she was done, answered, only the very last accusation. "I did not call you here to warm my bed, and I find you more interesting than your anger with me." He did not explain further, but poured her a drink, instead.

"Why did you call me here, then? Why show interest in me now?"

"I called you here to express my gratitude for saving my life, and to better understand my wife, whom I have not seen since our wedding." He said, sounding surprisingly sincere.

"If only you had thought of the second part the day we had been wed." She grumbled, before drinking the entire little cup in one swallow.

He chuckled in response. "Then allow me to do another thing I should have done the day we had been wed." She eyed him suspiciously and shifted away, making it clear she still didn't intend to warm his bed. "Should I not have given you a wedding gift?"

"I was sincere this morning," she replied, pouring herself another cup of wine, "I want for nothing in the Dawn Palace."

"So you wish your tormenters to continue to do so?" He asked, sardonically. "As a gift, I can give you my support. No one would dare speak poorly of my Princess if I do not allow them to. I need only show that I claim you fully, and your troubles would disappear."

She scowled at him, "Did you not wonder why I am not jumping with joy to see you return, your highness? I do not need to be rescued, nor have others plot how to throw me out of your fickle favor again. Simply treat me as you always have, and they will eventually forget to talk about the imaginary Princess Dawn whom no one has ever seen and may perhaps not exist at all, much less as a threat. In fact, if you had not returned and insisted on meeting me today, I should not have been surprised if that day were to come five years from now. But the damage is done, now."

"Indeed it is." He said, taking her seriously. "Since it is done already, why not embrace it? If Guang'wen were to see you now, he would abuse me terribly for not properly taking care of his daughter." Her father's name felt like a slap in the face. She hadn't known he and the Prince had really known each other, much less been on a first-name basis. And if they had been so close, why had he left her to suffer like he had? Why had they both?

He seemed about to say something more, but she cut him off. "You knew my father?"

The Prince's eyebrows shot upwards on his forehead. "If I had not, what reason would I have had for marrying the daughter of an ill-favored minister after his disappearance?"

"I have asked myself that same question for some time now." She grumbled again, grimacing down at her cup.

"Your father taught me to master the Heavenly arts when I surpassed my royal tutors at age 11. Without him, I would have been dead many times over. He remains the man I respect the most. I confess, I was uncertain when he proposed the engagement when you were only 16, but as always, his council has proven wise, and I was a fool to ignore it. And you." The cool, glittering quality of his eyes as he watched her didn't seem to be particularly apologetic. He adjusted his position on the cushion he was sitting on so that he was sitting a little straighter, and then he flashed that annoying grin at her. "I will not ask you to sleep with me, but I am afraid you will not stop me from doting upon you, now. I have no doubt you can rise to it. You are indeed Guang'wen's daughter and his treasure."

For a second, she was about to protest, and she knew he saw it, but then she stopped herself and sighed instead. "I will accept what I cannot stop, your highness." And then she surprised herself by finding not a single shred of anger left in her. Not for the day, anyways.

~

His wife returned to her chambers earlier than he would have liked, but her early return did give Ming'zha time to call on Cheng'yi. Now that he had decided he would dote upon her, he had to make plans for it, just as he was sure she would. She did seem to have a bit of a temper, and cried more than he had expected, but she had more composure than other women might have had in her situation, and a quick wit. She wasn't going to plunge into the duty of fully being his wife without a plan in mind, especially since he suspected she did not believe he was making any plans of his own. She really did seem to think he cared nothing for her. Poor Guang'wen really wouldn't forgive him when he returned, as he had no doubt the man would. He could tell she wasn't the sort of woman to tell her father how she had been mistreated, but Guang'wen was just as unlikely to have left his daughter behind without ears out on how she was being treated.

He pressed his hand against the wound on his stomach. It was healing rather nicely, but it had been a trial pretending it hadn't hurt throughout the meal. Heavenly blades were not easy to craft, and they had thus far been unable to pinpoint the master who had forged the one that had given him this nasty scar. They had been unable to capture the man who had swung it, too, although all of the other bandits had been killed or captured easily. The man had simply appeared, swung only at him, and disappeared again, dropping the sword as he had done so. There was no reason for him to have dropped it, and it would have been fatal if it had been even just a little bit deeper. It would not surprise him at all if his old teacher had left it as a painful and very permanent reminder of his duties as a husband, and his bad habit of letting his guard down when he thought he was sure to win.

"If he had told me his plans, I could have told him mine." Ming'zha muttered to himself, discontentedly, then laughed, realizing the Princess Dawn had a similar way of grumbling, which both of them had likely picked up from her father.

"Your highness?" Cheng'yi asked. He had been standing there for some time, going on about other work that had piled up while the prince had been sitting in a forest for five days.

"The Princess Dawn has always been incapable of the Heavenly arts, has she not, Cheng'yi?"

Cheng'yi took this random question in stride, as he always did. It was one of the qualities Ming'zha liked best about his right-hand man and best friend. "Yes, your highness. It is one of the reasons she was thought most unworthy of you."

He smirked to himself. "The Minister of Heavenly Arts is far more devious than the court gives him credit for. All these years, him parading about with her as his "secret" treasure, and no one guessed the truth." He directed his self-satisfied smirk at his servant. "It seems he left her in my care for quite the reason, indeed. I was so foolish as not to touch her all these years and did not realize his intentions."

"Your highness?" Cheng'yi asked, though it was always a bit of a toss-up whether he was truly curious, or simply indulging his prince.

"We're changing our plans, Cheng'yi. I sensed it when I grabbed her in the forest, or perhaps I grabbed her because I sensed it. She has the talent to become the Heavenly Dragon. Guang'wen must have suppressed her talents while he was around, until he felt she was ready. He did not want me as her husband, but as her teacher." He laughed shortly. "Selfish bastard."

~