The Foreign Empress

Starless Skies

Ever since the Eighth Prince, Liu Taiping, arrived in Luoyang four days ago, I've been hounded by a constant sense of homesickness and foreboding. The rumors about the Eighth Prince, who had been on an empire-wide campaign to root out traitors, have only intensified with his presence in the palace. Within a fortnight, I will find myself married to a psychopathic murderer who is as likely to torture and kill me as he is to keep me chained to his bed. I recall a similar sight in Parthia, an all too familiar one in fact. While learning horse archery, the marzban, a rank similar to a Roman legatus though more barbaric, in charge of the range kept a group of triplets leashed to his throne. A shiver rolls down my spine and I wrap a blanket tighter around me. The cold remains.

At night, I find myself wandering the inner courtyard of the Jujue Palace. Even the stars and constellations here are different, foreign. Only the silver moon remains the same. How I miss the warmth of home, the embrace of family and friends. The night before my wedding, great clouds obscure even the light of the moon, my last link to home. A longing sigh escapes me, a sigh that is misery, fear, and longing given breath. "Why are you sighing?" A child's voice comes from behind me and I spin around. It's Zhangxiu, the little brother of Xiaoyue. The boy looks at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Jiejie says it's bad to sigh."

"I miss home." Those words are wrenched from the deepest depths of my heart.

"Jiejie says home isn't a place. She says home is where your heart is." With those words, Zhangxiu skips off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I wander aimlessly for the better part of an hour, unsure of what to think, what to do. A cool breeze settles in the courtyard, sending the stagnant air of the city fleeing. It nudges me towards the courtyard's pond, and I allow myself to be swept along. Finally, I settle on the bank of the pond. Staring into its watery depths, I delve deep and search my heart for home.

Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm and violently yanks me back from the edge of the pond. I look up. Fatima stares down at me. Her face is etched with a mix of worry and fury. She thinks I'm trying to kill myself, doesn't she? My guess is accurate. After all, the death, the suicide no less, of a Parthian princess would shatter any hopes of amicable relations between the Han and Parthia. Well, the thought had crossed my mind I suppose.

Having been (somewhat forcefully) returned to my bed-chamber, I lie restlessly on top of my sheets. A lightly scented incense drifts into my bedroom. A sleeping drug of some sort no doubt. Somewhat gratefully, I let the incense close my eyes and I fall into a restless, dreamless, darkness.

Jiejie- 姐姐, a Chinese term used specifically to address elder sisters.

Marzban- A historical Parthian military and civil rank, more or less the Parthian equivalent of an Imperial Protector as they managed and guarded border provinces. Aurelia's view of holders of this rank is completely based on that one marzban she met.

Legatus- Otherwise called Legates, a Legatus commands aRoman legion (around 5,200 legionnaire infantry by the imperial age).