Herbs

1.8K 125 24
                                    

The best form of revenge is to forget.

I know that I shouldn't expect your forgiveness after that night. That night, I murdered our own child. That night, I left you. That night, our future shattered and our past died. From that night on, you hated me.

"Drink this," the woman coaxed, lightly blowing into a cup of dark liquid while stirring it with a spoon, "It'll help you feel better." She nudged the spoonful of medicinal soup towards Dawn's mouth.

"I promise, it isn't bitter. I added licorice," he offered the clay bowl to her, "Now where did we leave off in that story?"

Gulp by gulp, the gullible girl drained the bowl, too absorbed in the story to notice the bitter taste of herbs. Then the last word of the tale had been said, and all that was left in the bowl were dregs.

She looked up to see the sneaky smile lurking at the corners of the boy's lips. Only then did the girl realize she had been tricked.

On instinct, Dawn's arm lashed out. The sound of the ground embracing the cup was strangely satisfying, sounding as crisp as a chiming bell. Remains of the jade cup littered the floor, and the scent of ginseng filled the room.

The woman's now-empty hands were still outstretched, frozen in time. She stared at the scattered shards on the floor, and a single tear slid down her cheek. "Do you really hate me this much?" she murmured to the air. Bending down, she began to gather the pieces of shattered jade, laying each piece carefully on her palm.

"Empress! This task is not fit for you!" the group of servants exclaimed, rushing forward.

The woman looked up from her work and smiled, "You are all dismissed." But distracted, a serrated fragment slipped, drawing a line of crimson on her palm. Beads of blood oozed from the wound, running down her wrist, disappearing into the maze of robes. The woman cringed, biting her lips as she continued to collect the pieces that remained on the floor.

After a moment of hesitation, Dawn ripped a strip of fabric away from the hem of her nightgown. She grabbed the woman's wounded hand, skillfully wrapping the fabric around the cut. But silk was never meant to be for such a degraded purpose, and the blood seeped through the cream colored fabric. "What are you all waiting for! Fetch a doctor!" Dawn screamed at the awestruck maids, her eyes clouding with worry.

"Hate me if you want. Just know that I have always loved you," the empress whispered, her uninjured hand tracing the sides of Dawn's face, "And I always will."

Blood bonds can never be truly severed.

A forced laughter echoed throughout the corridors of the vast palace. Under the watch of countless maids, Dawn hugged the imperial edict tightly to herself, "This is your love?"

One gem-studded hairpin could drag a family far away from the doors of death. A single necklace could bribe a prisoner out of a death sentence. The sacrifice of one girl could bring an entire kingdom prosperity. Her marriage to the north could save so many, and all it costed was herself. 

[OLD VERSION --  READ THE NEW ONE PLEASE] Crocodile TearsWhere stories live. Discover now