Roots Beneath Permission
1069 Words
The morning sunlight filtered softly through the palace windows.
For once, the Ninth Princess did not hesitate.
She dressed simply, her posture calm, and walked straight toward the Emperor’s study.
She bowed deeply.
“Greetings, Father.”
The Emperor looked up from his scrolls, mildly surprised.
“Sit,” he said. “What brings you here so early?”
She inhaled quietly.
“Father, I wish to ask for permission.”
His brow lifted slightly.
“Permission for what?”
“I wish to learn farming,” she replied evenly. “I want to grow grains and fruits—organically, for my own use.”
Silence followed.
The Emperor stared at her as if he had misheard.
“…Farming?” he repeated.
“Yes, Father.”
He leaned back, studying her.
“Why such a sudden interest?”
She met his gaze calmly.
“I want to understand how food is grown. I also wish to have fresh ingredients for my cooking. Buying them outside is costly, and I believe learning this skill will be useful.”
Her answer was simple.
Practical.
Unexpected.
After a pause, the Emperor sighed lightly.
“Very well,” he said. “There is a piece of unused land near the eastern grounds. You may use it.”
Her eyes softened.
“Thank you, Father.”
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
She turned back.
“The brooch you gave me,” he said, holding the box. “I don’t know where it should be placed.”
She stepped forward gently.
“Allow me, Father.”
She took the brooch and adjusted it carefully on his robe, pinning it near his chest.
The Emperor glanced down.
“…It looks good,” he said after a moment. “Thank you.”
She smiled faintly and bowed again before taking her leave.
Outside, she exhaled slowly.
The first step had worked.
She summoned her maid.
“Find a few experienced farmers,” she instructed. “Quiet ones. Trustworthy.”
The maid bowed and left immediately.
By afternoon, she stood on the plot of land granted to her.
It was barren, neglected—but full of possibility.
When the farmers arrived, she greeted them politely and handed them a written manual.
“These are the seeds,” she said. “This is how I want them planted. Can you do this?”
The farmers exchanged glances, surprised by the detailed instructions.
They nodded.
As they worked, their eyes lingered on the unfamiliar tools.
“Princess,” one of them asked carefully, “where did these come from?”
She replied calmly, “They were provided by a craftsman recommended to me.”
That was enough.
They continued working—plowing, planting, watering.
“The sowing is complete,” one of them said later.
“Good,” she replied. “Care for them daily. Inform me when they are ready for harvest.”
She paid them fairly and returned to the palace.
News traveled fast.
When the Second Princess heard of it, she scoffed.
“Farming?” she sneered. “How vulgar.”
Her eyes gleamed.
Perfect.
She went straight to the Empress Dowager.
“Ninth Princess has been wandering outside the palace grounds,” she said gently.
“She’s… doing farming. It doesn’t suit a noble lady.”
The Empress Dowager frowned.
“Farming?” she repeated.
That evening, a summons was sent.
When the Ninth Princess heard she was called to the Empress Dowager’s chambers, she understood immediately.
She prepared carefully.
Before leaving, she picked up a small plate—a strawberry-flavored pastry she had recently perfected.
She bowed deeply.
“Greetings, Your Majesty.”
The Empress Dowager studied her coldly.
“What is this?” she asked, eyeing the pastry.
“A new recipe,” the Ninth Princess replied calmly.
“I made it using fresh fruit.”
The Empress Dowager tasted it.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“…This is good,” she admitted.
She set the plate aside.
“I heard you are farming,” she said.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Why?”
“I enjoy gardening,” the Ninth Princess replied softly.
“I’ve seen my mother tend plants before.”
The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes.
“But farming?”
“I do not farm myself,” the Ninth Princess said clearly.
“I only supervise farmers. I need fresh grains and fruits for my recipes. Buying them outside is expensive.”
“That is not the work of a noble lady,” the Empress Dowager said sharply.
The Ninth Princess bowed.
“If Your Majesty believes I am wrong, I apologize. I will stop.”
The Empress Dowager paused.
“…Supervising is not improper,” she said finally.
“You need not touch the soil yourself.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
A silence followed.
Then the Empress Dowager asked, “The jewelry you gave me—did you design it?”
“Yes,” the Ninth Princess replied.
“My mother asked me to create it.”
“And the Emperor’s brooch?”
“I designed that as well.”
“The gown you wore—where did you buy it?”
The Ninth Princess hesitated for a heartbeat.
“We did not buy it,” she said honestly.
“My mother did not have sufficient funds, so I bought silk and sewed it myself.”
The Empress Dowager’s gaze sharpened.
“You receive a monthly allowance.”
The Ninth Princess lowered her eyes.
“I do not, Your Majesty.”
“What?”
The Empress Dowager turned sharply.
“Check this,” she ordered her maid.
The maid left and returned soon after, pale.
“Second Princess ordered the allowance stopped after punishment,” she reported.
“It was never resumed.”
The Empress Dowager’s anger flared.
“How could this happen?”
She looked back at the Ninth Princess.
“So you sold your recipes… because you lacked money?”
The Ninth Princess nodded.
“I wanted to give Your Majesty a proper gift. I did not wish to embarrass you at the banquet.”
For the first time, the Empress Dowager’s expression truly softened.
Pride replaced irritation.
“You are… thoughtful,” she said slowly.
Something changed in her gaze.
Favor did not bloom instantly—
But warmth did.
And for the Ninth Princess, that was more than enough.
- Writer
