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He had believed there were worlds and circumstances that Yue had not yet considered; if Wei Jun did not yet understand that was untrue, then he would soon. He was asking questions now about the limits of her imagination.

Besides being a very interesting question in general, it probed as deep as she knew he could.

An enticing invitation, too. Wouldn't it be a thing of beauty to share with another her thoughts, both pretty and heinous? There were so few that were able to comprehend the weight behind a dynasty – even those closest to her, the Golden Kin and her court, hadn’t a clue.

They sat in beautiful silk and spun their baubles; drew warm baths when requested and gossiped when it wasn’t. They had no clue what terror paved the way for their luxury, or the sheer power they would have over her, if they knew her imaginings.

Yue found herself surrounded by this type of characterization so often that she could choke on it. The Empress would suspend her own dreaming, fearing it would become fodder for the masses. Her consciousness ran dry of inspiration. Sometimes it felt as if her mind was the equivalent of a one-woman council meeting, where the only thing discussed was what-ifs.

So many thought they knew what they wanted. Often, it turned out that they wanted everything, but knew far less. Most of the time, it was like they understood nothing at all. They thought they wanted to know Yue; to find proximity to her, and thus safety.

Safety was an aegis, created by the winged shadow of Heaven’s Mercy.

It was one of the Orchid’s responsibilities not to shatter such an illusion with talk of her dreams at night, or imaginings during the day. Not when asked, nor prompted, nor tortured for it. It was a matter of dire security.

She did not feel this way about Batu. At times, the meta-part of her brain felt as if it were silly. In a life where she could not trust her own husband, a man sent to her by the power of the crane and the dragon combined, then there was little else that could be extended to a guardian’s blade.

The dark, dusky man had brought her husband several wives and offered his body of protection to the Empress alone. There was clearly something lofty he desired, though Yue could not quite place a finger on it.

At the very least, Yue felt as though whatever Batu craved was not a device for Evil. It was not only that, though.

Yue wanted to. She wanted to speak of things she found dreadfully boring, as well as those matters of dynastic secretude. She wanted to speak without the fear of how it would crumble the very life she had built. Doubt was unwelcome. An Empress didn’t get to doubt.

She only needed to feel into a decision, then execute it. With Batu, she executed a new decision. A journey to trust.

or, at least, to explore the feathery edges of trust.

As with most things with gravity, she felt it was wise to ask twice. She wanted to hear him say it again. Do you truly want to know? she asked, unable to achieve the levels of sorrow and frustration she had experienced earlier. The lack of it was evident in the way she allowed an easy silence to roll out between them, as she glanced across as if assessing a crevasse. She canted her head.

They are not beautiful.

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