A Thousand Fallen Petals

Earth *

Li Rong should've bid him a proper goodbye, but he wouldn't have let her go. Even if she could write, he had no way of fathoming her language. She hardened the ache in her heart as the cart rolled over hard, uneven gravel, finally carrying her to the capital.

Encountering the soldiers had been a stroke of luck, terrifying as it had been. They'd told her how to get to Luoyang, and she'd seized the first opportunity to do so. It was a good thing she left when she did because she didn't know how much longer her restraint would've held out.

It had taken everything she had to remain stone-cold towards him.

He as a good man, and she hadn't wanted to hurt him. Unwisely, she'd fallen in love with him. But she had to care for her ageing mother who'd toiled to feed her for sixteen years. She couldn't abandon her family to cavort with a man she barely knew.

Li Rong swallowed, doing her best to ignore the throbbing hollowness in her chest as she watched dawn breaking over the horizon, splashing vibrant colours across the skies, so at odds with the bleak emptiness she was feeling.

Money. She needed to send money back to her mother.

In hindsight, she saw how naïve her plans had been. She'd been deceived by the opulence—the fresh food, the spacious rooms, the lavish clothing—and she'd been wholly unprepared for what awaited her.

Life in the palace was brutal.

She'd been tasked with bringing tea to the emperor, and she'd bowed as she presented the tray to him. He'd caught her face in his hand, his eyes lighting up with fascination.

Why, how beautiful you are! Emperor Liu Zhi told her, mesmerised by her face. How is it that I've never seen you before?

She'd turned red, flustered, dreading that he would visit her chambers after the long weeks of being invisible among four thousand others.

Her fears had been short-sighted.

Empress Dou had been seated beside the emperor when he'd praised her. Li Rong hadn't seen the flash of resentment in her eyes. She'd invited Li Rong to her private chambers, her manner sweet and friendly as she'd offered tea.

Li Rong had vomited for days afterwards, her stomach cramping as she broke into a fever and stained her bedding with sweat and blood. She hadn't connected her sickness to the tea until Consort Tian Sheng had pulled her aside, telling her never to drink anything Empress Dou offered.

I was pregnant once—a son, Consort Tian Sheng told her. She presented tea to me, and I lost the child.

The peaceful illusion was shattered. Li Rong became more aware than ever of the ranks within the palace—the Empress at the top, followed by the various consorts, and lastly, the simple concubines—which came with power, privileges and protection.

Li Rong lived in fear, which intensified when she received word from her ailing mother. Her position in the palace was too low for her to send much money home. To increase her stature, she needed the emperor's favour, which came at the price of the empress's wrath. She was terrified of Empress Dou and the other consorts, she was terrified of intimacy with the emperor, and she worried endlessly about her mother's illness.

She became withdrawn and tearful, lying awake most nights burdened with these thoughts. Home felt like a world away.

***

The capital was surrounded by high mountains and the palace was magnificent, lavishly sculpted, painted and ornamented with decadent excess. But what struck Alerio the most was the number of concubines the emperor possessed.

Four thousand!

Alerio could hardly believe it. Concubines existed in Rome, but only when the woman's status was considered unequal to the man she wished to marry. The possession of a concubine in addition to a wife was forbidden in their strictly monogamous society.

Along their journey, he'd come to see and accept men who had two, three and even four women, but four thousand! His head swam. It was debauchery.

He'd been dumbfounded when Markus first told him. How did one have relations with four thousand women?

It is their way, Markus simply said, shrugging indifferently. We are here only to trade and forge an alliance.

Alerio couldn't find it in himself to feel aghast for long. Although he hid it well, he was still consumed by the pain of his Callista's disappearance. His heart throbbed constantly at her absence, and he'd relived that night over and over again, berating himself for each minuscule mistake he might've done to drive her away.

The wound was still fresh when they'd entered the majestic gates of the palace, led by the imperial guards.

Then he'd glimpsed her in the gardens.

Alerio could hardly believe his eyes. The girl who haunted his dreams was here. The girl for whom he'd promised to return. The girl who'd stolen his heart.

He looked again. Her face was pinched and pale, her hair adorned with ornate jewels, but there was no mistaking it. After their long months together, he would recognise her anywhere. It was her!

Don't stare at the concubines, it will get you killed, Markus muttered.

Alerio lowered his eyes quickly. He already knew that, but he hadn't been able to help himself. She was here! She was in Luoyang! In the palace!

His mind spun, and he could barely concentrate as they knelt before the emperor and presented their gifts.

He'd held her flush to him before. He'd held her breathless in his arms, and tasted the softness of her skin. Now he understood why she'd never wanted to consummate their union. She'd been meant for the emperor.

The ache grew in his chest, unbearable.

Four thousand women. Did the emperor even notice her? Did he notice the gentleness in her eyes, the way her lashes lowered whenever she was bashful, the slight turn of her lips as she spoke?

He'd promised to come back for her, but how could he now?

Alerio never felt such a fierce ache before. He'd fallen for her, and he'd fallen hard.

The love made him blind.

Four thousand others, he kept repeating to himself. Surely no one would miss one among so many.

Now that he saw her, he couldn't lose her again.

He wouldn't approach her while Markus and everyone else were still here. He could endanger himself, but not the rest of the company.

When they'd finished their dealings, Alerio spoke to Markus.

Go on ahead, he said. I still wish to see the city. I will meet you at the Rinan harbour in a few days.

Markus raised his eyebrows. The journey is a dangerous one to take alone. If you wish to see the city, we will wait.

Alerio shook his head. I will be fine.

It's not the city you wish to see, is it? Markus guessed.

Alerio didn't reply for a long time.

No, he admitted finally.

Markus folded his arms. The concubines belong to the emperor. You must accept that. You cannot have her.

He has four thousand others!

It matters not, Markus said, his voice maddeningly patient. It is their way.

It is barbaric! Alerio shot back.

They find some of our ways barbaric as well.

When Alerio didn't answer, Markus's voice turned harsh.

Alerio. You will not stay for her, you will not speak to her, you will not even look at her. If you continue what you are doing, I will be forced to renounce you as a deserter.

Alerio's eyes flew to Markus in shock, but the older man's gaze remained steady. You must understand that I cannot let you damage our relation with Serica or threaten the safety of the others. This is the last we will speak of it.

Alerio's chest was heavy as they departed.

Markus put a hand on his shoulder. If you bring her back to Rome, she will be nothing more than a slave, he said. Let the girl be. Fate does not bless your union.

He was right, but Alerio's heart refused to let her go. As they neared Luoyang's border, he turned his horse around, separating from the rest. He heard his comrades yelling for him, but ignored them.

He would stay. He would bring her beyond Serica, before Rome, and dwell elsewhere with her.

Let him go, he heard Markus order, and the pursuing hooves ceased. As he looked back at their silhouettes, loneliness gnawed in his gut, overshadowed by his determination.

***

Li Rong hadn't known how Alerio managed to sneak a message to the high eunuch, or why the high eunuch let her meet with him when she'd asked.

She should've known that Empress Dou had been behind it. But despite her growing awareness of the dangers within the palace, she'd grown up as a simple girl. She had no experience with the royal intricacies—no true idea of how much hatred the empress had come to harbour or how far her schemes could go.

Naïvely, she'd accepted the eunuch's words, and under his instructions, she'd left the palace in the dead of the night with a shawl wrapped around her hair.

Alerio was waiting for her under one of many flowering trees of plum blossoms. The moon was full that night, and the air was infused by the flowers' sweet perfume.

Despite the cold, seeing him warmed her heart. The happiness that surged was overwhelming. It had been such a long time since she'd seen a familiar face, a face she could trust.

He opened his arms, and she ran to him. They embraced, and he spun her around in a joyful circle.

"Callista. Li Rrrong," he botched her name as usual, and she laughed quietly.

For a long time, they only held each other, relishing in the comfort, the sense of completion offered by the reunion.

Then he kissed her. This time, she'd kissed him back, uninhibited as she'd never been before.

Alerio held her delicate face between his hands, smiling as his heart soared.

She'd always been beautiful, and now, dressed in the finery offered by the palace, it was as though she'd stepped out of a Serican lore—a princess brought forth to life. It almost hurt to look at her.

"Mecum veni," he bade her to come with him. "Exspecta," he said softly, leading her to his horse, to his packed bags.

It was still raining petals—pale pink, crimsons and whites.

She understood his message, but she couldn't leave. She had to care for her mother. And the imperial guards would notice her departure. They would be captured, and he would be put to death.

Li Rong shook her head.

"Ni he wo de ma ma," she said and drew a line over her throat.

His eyes lit up with understanding. 'Ma' was universal. "Mater? Ma?" he repeated.

She nodded.

His heart sank. They would seize her mother, should she leave. And his horse could not bear the weight of three. Markus had been right after all—they weren't meant to be.

He wanted nothing but to take her and leave, but he'd never rob her of her will like that. Crushed, he resigned himself to their farewell, embracing her for the last time.

When they broke apart, she waved with a small smile. He couldn't bring himself to do the same. He only stood numbly, watching her make her way back to the palace. She waited for several long minutes, watching him in the darkness, before finally disappearing into the grand gates.

Smoke unfurled from the quaint, curved edges of the roof. Alerio mounted his horse, his heart hurting as once again, he reached the outskirts of the city.

A thought suddenly struck him.

It shouldn't have been so easy for him to gain access to a royal concubine. In his haste, he hadn't given a thought to it, but now a horrible idea occurred to him.

The sky began to weep snow tears, but the fragrance continued to bloom around him, sweet and subtle, reminding him of his Callista's scent. It was the bitter cold that brought forth their aroma, and Alerio suddenly realised why the flowers signified endurance to the Seres.

He turned and galloped back the way he came.

***

Empress Dou had bribed the eunuchs to spy on her. Her every step had been under observation. Perhaps if she'd known, she wouldn't have been in this position—stripped of her royal garments and placed in chains upon her return.

She should've stayed with him when she had the chance.

But she hadn't known. She hadn't known so many things. She'd only wanted to be a filial daughter and protect her mother, the way she'd been raised to do. And now she was going to be made an example of to the other concubines.

Words were read out, meaningless words listing crimes she'd committed—some true, most not.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

She exhaled, watching the mist form from the shallow breaths she could manage in the tight bindings. She was tired, and everything ached. Death would be welcome mercy.

As the blade rose, she thought about the one good decision she'd made. She'd convinced him to leave. He was safe. He didn't have to see her like this. In that one thought, she found peace.

***

It took him another half a day to ride back. Snow fell in heaps, enshrouding the curved roofs in pure white and tipping the tops of the mountains surrounding the city. His mare whinnied forlornly, its limbs sinking in the thick snow with every step.

A crowd had gathered despite the blizzard, and he felt his insides turn to ice when he saw who was kneeling at its centre.

No!

For a moment, he could only stare, stunned by the sight. He knew how cruel and petty courtly schemes could be—his family had been enmeshed in several. He had feared, but he'd not foreseen the gravity of her situation.

His heart pounded wildly.

The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare—his beloved pale-lipped and seemingly resigned to her fate, the grim crowd and the thickset man whose wide knife gleamed at his hip.

He couldn't let it happen.

As the executioner lifted his blade, a reckless idea occurred to him—born of desperation and heartbreak.

He knew he couldn't save her, not with the imperial guards on watch.

But he couldn't stand by and do nothing. He couldn't.

He raised his bow, fighting to keep his trembling hands steady. The string twanged, sharp and shrill to his heightened senses, the arrow cutting through the air.

His aim was true.

The descending blade dropped to the ground like overripe fruit. A gurgling sound and it was the executioner who dropped dead. The crowd watched in shock and incredulity, and the elite guards turned, their sharp eyes trained on the intruder—him.

Alerio was in motion before anyone could think. He urged his horse forward, knocking people aside and leaping over the platform, the hooves punching holes in the wood, fear lending him strength as he scooped her up and planted her in front of him.

He lashed his horse again, and it galloped faster, its mouth frothing at the bit.

Shouts came from behind them. Arrows whistled, and he felt one pierce into his back and another into his shoulder. In the numb cold and wild panic, he barely felt the pain, continuing to lash his horse madly forward.

He could hear the thundering hooves and the jangle of metal as the imperial guards chased them through the trees, past the towering mountains that imprisoned them from both sides. No place to hide. No respite. The soldiers' horses were made for war, and faster. They were catching up. They fired more arrows, some of which whistled past his cheek, grazing his skin.

Blood trickled down his back and he gripped the reigns tighter as his wounds began to burn.

He could hear them gaining more and more ground. Someone shouted just a few feet behind him. Alerio's blood roared in his ears. He was going to die. She was going to die. It was the end of them. It was-

The ground began to tremble.

As though by the will of the heavens, the heavy torrent of snow that had gathered over the last few days surged down the mountains, devastating and swift, burying the soldiers close enough to reach them and blocking the path of ones further away. The noise of hooves was drowned by the loud groaning as snow continued to collapse, shaking the very earth itself. Large trees cracked under the heavy mass, rocks slid, but the two of them miraculously escaped the avalanche unharmed.

Relief flooded through him, so great that the world seemed to grow bigger and brighter. But he didn't stop.

They rode for a long, long time over the rough terrain.

His shirt was soaked with blood by the time he dared to stop. Without a word, he cut loose Li Rong's bindings.

It was the first time he saw her cry. Tears streaked down her face, but she made no sound. Her arms and fingers were turning violet, stiff and trembling, and still, she reached for the arrows at his back. He stopped her, capturing her cold palms between his sweaty ones. They'd dressed her in rags in the middle of winter.

He massaged gently, coaxing the blood to return. As soon as her fingers regained some mobility, she moved behind him, pulling the arrows out with surprising strength. And then she tore what little rags she wore, using them to staunch the bleeding.

Li Rong's heart bled each time he hissed with pain, taking great care to bind his wounds properly. She could hardly believe that he'd come back for her. She would've never blamed him even if he'd abandoned her. The emperor was not lenient with his punishments, and audacity like that would've earned him a slow, painful death.

He must've known, but still, he'd come.

His brashness stunned her. He'd been ready to die with her. If it hadn't been for the interference of fate, he would've died an agonising death.

She touched his cheek, her breath misting between them, wishing she could ask him why.

He leaned in, kissing her tenderly, his hands moving down to soothe her sore knees as he held her gaze with his piercing green ones. Sea-green, grass-green, brilliant. But she was looking beyond their colour, beyond the incomprehensibility of his mannerisms, of his tongue, and into his soul, into the universality of what he'd done for her—of what she'd done for him.

Love transcended.

The petals continued to fall.

His lips formed words, and she understood.

I love you.