Empress (A Tickle Commission)

Forked Tongue Promises

An icy grasp, far more harsh than any winter endured in his life, gripped Sima Yi's heart. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He darted around his princess's chambers in hopeful belief of some game or misunderstanding or even a horrible nightmare was at play, his reaching suspicions dashed more and more with each painfully passing second. He looked throughout and under the bed. He searched the cupboard. Several times, he dashed outside to examine Yuanji's personal balcony and the grassy land around it. He saw no sign of Ai, no indecision of where his 'Yuanji' stand-in had supposedly vanished.

Tirelessly, his search took him to broader extents. He searched all of the common and servant areas of the palace. He asked around if anyone had seen the young princess scurrying about, forcing the fear from his voice. Upturning every room, every hall, every speck of dust, Sima learned nothing outside of his own fearful conclusion that, wherever Ai was, she was no longer on palace grounds. Silently, he cursed himself for his hubris and lack of judgment. His hands shook. Tears welled beneath his eyes. Each time he revisited Yuanji's chamber hoping to find that the princess had returned behind his knowledge. Even then, he would have settled for Ai back and returned to character. But the nightmare continued and there was no sign of waking up.

"This cannot be happening," Sima Yi repeatedly muttered to himself. He raced between all of the areas of the palace where Ai might have gone to fulfill her servant duties. He checked the kitchen, the servant's quarters, the gardens, the temple, rushing from room to room more frantically as the seconds passed. Only when he returned to Yuanji's own private chamber was he stopped by a surprise visitor.

"I was hoping to have an audience with my future bride," Fu Jie said, his voice low and grave. He swiped his finger across the bronze incense burner near Yuanji's bed. His head was pointed down and away. Ornate, dark currant shaded robes cascaded down his back. His presence burned the air in the room with the scents of ash and sweat. Sima Yi's eyes stayed fixed on the man. Alone, separated from his men and consorts, Crown Prince, Fu Jie, was just that. As Yuanji had flown her duties as a princess to pursue more common pleasure, Fu Jie too stood with the stature of a great leader and warrior, yet behind the lifted veil of his standing, was only a man. Sima Yi swallowed. He entered the room, determined to still see to his position.

"I'm afraid her Highness has stepped out for the moment," Sima Yi said sternly. "Might I escort you to perhaps the Emperor's chambers, your majesty?"

"'Stepped out'," Fu Jie said softly. "I see." He pulled back from the burner, rubbing the pads of his fingers together. The dust floated from them, carried by the natural breeze of the open balcony doors. "It must be quite straining, being a young woman in her situation. So bound by duties and responsibilities. She has such an obligation to uphold honor for her family, her people, that she may never chase true divine pleasures. Such is the burden of those in our standing." Sima nodded. He kept a careful eye out for anything abnormal in the prince's proximity, anything that may come off as alarming to Yuanji's disappearance.

"Her Highness has all the help she needs," Sima Yi responded. "And I'm sure will be remarkably happy under your care, your Majesty.

"You do fulfill your duties honorably, I see, Sima Yi," Fu Jie said. His lips pulled up in a slight snarl at the sounds made for Sima's name, just enough to show a small glimmer of teeth. "Keeping the princess safe and happily while she follows through with her rightful station. Your efforts are indeed commendable."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Sima Yi said, bowing his head. Fu Jie walked casually through the room. His eyes inspected everything they fell upon with uncertainty. Sima stood in silence, watching the man glide through the chamber like a phantom.

"She is quite the treasure, isn't she?" Fu Jie asked.

"Her beauty is only outmatched by her wit and passion," Sima said.