The Last Dahlia

035

Yuehwa was sitting in a pavilion in the royal gardens, enjoying a leisurely cup of tea with the queen. Ever since her brother's passing, the queen had taken ill and it wasn't until a couple of days ago that the imperial physicians declared her fit to leave her quarters once more. As they sat there watching the young crown prince frolic on the grass patch with some of his attendants, they smiled.

"He is too playful," Queen Yi'en said, watching her son jump around trying to catch some butterflies. "His teachers say that he has an intelligent mind, except he doesn't choose to use it very often. You should take him in hand, Yuehwa. Be the strict mentor that he needs in order for him to become a great king in the future."

The coronation ceremony for the young prince was to be held in a month's time, after the end of the kingdom's period of mourning. However, it would still be years before Yang-yang was old enough to lead on his own. Until then, he would have his mother and his aunt to steer this ship for him.

"He's a child," Yuehwa replied. "Let him enjoy his childhood years. Before we know it, time would have flown by and he will no longer be able to laugh as freely as he is now." She adored her young nephew, and if she had a choice she would rather not have to pass on this heavy burden to him when he grew up, but this was the fate of being born into a royal family. All she could do was to hope that she would hand over to him a kingdom in a time of peace, so that he would be able to live a long and healthy life, unlike his father.

"He looks so much like Sang, don't you think?" she added.

The secret investigation into her brother's murder was still taking place, but there were few leads to go on. As the days went by, Yuehwa was beginning to despair of ever finding out the mastermind behind the entire matter. Every day, when the sun had set, she would descend into the underground chamber where her brother's body lay in slumber, and she would tell him about everything that she had learnt in the course of that day. She would tell him about the petitions filed by the ministers, about how Yang-yang was performing in his classes, about how Yi'en still cried herself to sleep each night. And he would listen, silently, but he could no longer give her any answers.

Yi'en nodded her head, saying, "Every time I look at him I think of his father... But I'm glad that at least Sang left a part of him behind." Watching the little boy run to the edge of the pond as he chased after a white butterfly, she called out, "Yang-yang, don't go too near the water. Be careful!"

Immediately, the servants rushed forwards to hold the young prince back, just in time to stop him from slipping and falling.

Yuehwa laughed. "He'll be fine. A little fall won't hurt him. When I was younger I reckon I fell into that very same pond at least three times. Mother was so worried that I would end up killing myself one day, but here I am now, still fit as a fiddle."

"Not everyone is like you," her sister-in-law chided, though there was a tiny smile spreading across her face. "I remember when I first married your brother, I was appalled that a princess could behave as you did. You are fortunate, Yue-er. The king and queen gave you the freedom to do anything that you wanted. There are few other women who have such a luxury."

"I guess that's why I used up all my good fortune so quickly," Yuehwa joked, although they both knew that she meant part of what she was saying.

Just then, the young prince tripped over himself and went tumbling down onto the grass. His attendants immediately ran over to check on him to make sure that he wasn't hurt. After checking the boy's arms and legs, one of the senior palace maids ran over to the pavilion, hastily bowing to the queen and the princess.

"Is the prince hurt?" Yi'en asked, a worried frown appearing on her forehead.

"No, Your Majesty," the palace maid said to the queen, "but a rash has appeared on the prince's right arm. Should we summon the imperial physician?"