DAY 1 | following the feast

Her stomach clenches with nerves. A thousand and one stranger's scents, faces, bodies milling among the crowds as they gather in honor of Tianlong. Lian is not a girl anymore; not yet a wife and not associated with childhood enough for leniency in the eyes of those who have come to stare, awe-struck, at Heaven's chosen. There is no room for mistakes for the next four days. At the Egyptian's celebration, she was a guest and it was simple enough to play polite trophy drifting in her father's wake.

There are more stakes to this. Lian sweeps her gaze across the feast, the smiling faces, the chatter that rises and swirls and she can only pick out snippets of words from. East and oh, lovely and I haven't seen you in ages!

Lian eats little. Her stomach churns. Her smile is carved into the porcelain of her face, and does not move. She is energized after the safe return of her people, the avoidance of bloodshed, even if Baihe's bloom must be postponed. For now, Lian feels as if she stands on the cusp of a precipice yet feels no terror, only apprehension. There is great opportunity here.

But there has been already, flowering tentatively among the Emperor's gardens. This celebration is for Ye Lanyi, and there is a quieter exaltation among the festivities for Yue and her hard-won brood. But Lian watches the woman of the court with care and caution, and the cornflower blue of Lihua catches her eye from among the gilded nobility. Lian picks her way over to the woman with care, an effort made to make the approach appear accidental to an observer. Concubine Lihua. She greets, warm, welcoming. The woman is colored like the rain, and stands shyly as if the chill can still be felt. The food is to your liking, I hope? I should have asked what a favorite of yours was - time has been a difficult catch for me lately.

Lihua

The lotus prefers to hide behind the others.

Ye Lanyi’s wedding is a boon to her, for it allows her to retract from the proximity of Emperor Téng Shēnléi. The beautiful mongol remade in the image of han ideals is the light of the event, and Téng Lihua is forgotten. Burdened by the emperor’s distaste for her family, she has been content to allow his other concubines and empress to hold his attention.

Though she resents her life, her marriage, and the circumstances of that she cannot change, is it fair to hold such feelings to a girl she is scarcely older than?

Bowing as is proper, she attempts to don even a ghost of a smile as Princess Lian directs attention her way.

”Everything is quite pleasing,” she confirms, sweeping her tail low against the grass. A widespread array of meats are offered, like serow, antelope, pheasant and fish. Berries and greenery decorate the bountiful plenty.

Squinting her blush eyes, she focuses on the warm and bright features of Lian.

”Have you been well, gōngzhǔ? You must be ecstatic to have new family.”

Siblings, and many. Heirs to the dynasty, but Lian and Fen are still the stars in Shēnléi’s eyes.