Severing Time & Space

Marriage to the Emperor's Daughter, Part III

Dinner ended and the evening sky was painted a red that slowly gradated to dark velvet. Hou Jingshu stood by her father’s carriage. Father was giving her an aggrieved smile as she stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

“I see you are still upset with me,” he said.

She could have railed at him, could have yelled and told him that of course she was upset, but she felt like even that would be giving him a victory. She did not appreciate being left here. Hou Jingshu did not like that Father was making all of her choices without even consulting her.

This was how it had always been. For as far back as she could remember, her father had made every decision for her. She was never allowed to make her own choices. While she understood this was what it meant to be a princess that did not mean she had to like it. She hated it, and she refused to accept it.

“I know you don’t like this, but please… this is for your own safety.”

“Hmph.”

Hou Jingshu turned her head, crossed her arms, and huffed. She had nothing to say to this man.

Father sighed. “I guess… I cannot blame you for acting this way, but I wish you would be a little more understanding of my position…”

Hou Jingshu faltered; she couldn’t be mad at him when he spoke like that, of duty and responsibility. She understood that as the Emperor of a nation, the needs of the nation outweighed everything else. That he was doing something selfish like sending her away for her own protection was a testament to his love for her.

“I… I do understand,” she said at last. “I know you are just doing this to protect me, but I feel like every choice is being made for me.”

That was always the crux of the problem. Hou Jingshu understood that her duty was to obey the orders of her father, to do as he told her, but she longed for freedom. She wanted to make her own choices. She wanted to choose what she would do in the future.

Even though she knew that was too much to ask for.

“That is what it means to be the Imperial Princess,” Father said. “I know you do not like it, but everything I have ever done was to protect you. Maybe if your mother were still alive, things would be different. She was much stronger than me, but… well, anyway, I am sorry things are turning out like this. Please, do your best to bear with it.”

Hou Jingshu sighed. “I can’t promise anything.”

“I suppose not.”

Father reached into his pocket, knelt down, and removed an object—a necklace, which he placed around her neck. Dangling from the end was a very small pendant made from a precious stone. Hou Jingshu looked at it in shock.

“Isn’t this…?”

Nodding, Father said, “This necklace belonged to your mother. That stone is from a piece of ten million year old Jade. It is a national treasure that emperors have been infusing with chi ever since it was discovered. Keep it with you.”

“O-okay. I will…” Hou Jingshu mumbled as she let the precious stone rest on the palm of her hand. It was cool to the touch but not unpleasantly so.

With a soft smile, Father leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Hou Jingshu let it happen without saying anything. Her father stood, placed a hand on her head, as if to ruffle her hair one more time, then turned and entered the carriage.

“Farewell, my precious daughter. I hope you live a long, happy, peaceful life.”

The driver cracked the reins, the horses winnied before taking off with a trot, and Hou Jingshu watched it leave with tears in her eyes. A bad feeling had come over her. It suddenly felt like her heart had grown cold. She did not like this feeling. What’s more, she wondered if this would be the last time she ever saw her father. Would they ever meet again?

Someone came up behind her. It was Wu Yōushì’s first wife. What was her name again? Wu Ailin? Wu Ai? It began with an A, but Hou Jingshu was in such a state of confusion that she couldn’t remember.

The woman knelt before her and used a handkerchief to wipe away the tears. Such a motherly gesture would have normally bothered her, but the woman was so soft and gentle that she couldn’t bring herself to get angry.

“I’m sure this is hard on you. I can’t even imagine what you must be going through right now. While it might not make your situation any better, please rest assured that we of the Wu Clan will do everything within our power to make you happy.”

“Th-thank you,” Hou Jingshu sniffled.

“Come on. Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

Tender smile still in place, the woman took Hou Jingshu’s hand and guided her into the compound. Hou Jingshu took one last look at the road her father’s carriage had disappeared down before the gates shut.

Wu Àiliàn led her through the compound, to a building that was nicer than the others. A beautiful garden lay before it. Dragon statues sat on the four corners of the slanted roof. The door was painted a vivid red and golden swirls created intricate designs on its surface.

“This will be your new place,” Wu Àiliàn said.

She tugged on Hou Jingshu’s hand and led her inside. While it could not compare to the grandeur and majesty of her old home, it was nice in a quaint sort of way. The room came fully furnished with a dresser, a bed, and several other amenities. It even had a bath. Wu Àiliàn informed her that only her building and the clan head’s building had a bath like this.

“Is there anything you would like me to do?” asked Wu Àiliàn after she gave Hou Jingshu a tour.

“I… think I would like to be left alone,” Hou Jingshu said.

“I understand. I’ll leave you alone for now. Please, get some rest,” Wu Àiliàn gave her a motherly smile before leaving. The door closed behind her, and it felt to Hou Jingshu like she had truly become a bird trapped within a cage.