In that split-second, the empress's perfectly-crafted mask cracked, and her eyes spoke only of torment. Her lips tremored slightly, and countless unspoken words hung to the tips of her tongue. But ultimately, they locked together once more into a bitter smile.
That night, somehow, I couldn't unsee her crying face. As hard as I tried to block her actions from my mind, they only surfaced again mere moments later.
Even when I finally slept, she was there to greet me in my dreams.
But gone were the towering palace walls, replaced instead by a picturesque landscape from a children's storybook. A bamboo house stood by the lakeside, and a crumbling cobblestone wall lined the road, but there was harmony between the structures and nature.
As the scene shifted from the lake to the rustling leaves, it came alive even before the smiling family of four entered the frame. I was a mere child sitting on her lap, and she looked at me dotingly as she fed me pieces of a red bean pastry. Crumbs and sesame stuck to my cheeks, and she laughed as she brushed them off. Her laugh was genuine, not at all like the smile that she regularly plastered onto her face.
In the distance, the emperor was teaching A'Yu how to write. He must have heard the empress's laughter because he too looked over and joined in. No, here, there was no emperor and empress. We were but a content middle-class family, far away from the turmoils of the court.
With a grin, A'Yu took off running into the distant flower field, and we all followed. We were all collecting flowers, and even the father in the dream twirled a blossom around his chest in this warm and light-hearted moment. Amidst the flower meadow, we became part of this idyllic fantasy. But gradually, as we ran farther and farther into the depths of the pasture, all that remained were the rustling blades of grass.
"Fourth Princess!" An unfamiliar voice sounded, forcing me back to reality.
In the dream, it had seemed like a lifetime. But it still wasn't enough. I fought to cling on to it, but already, it was slipping away from my memory. In the soft bedcovers, I tried to trace the last scene before it disappeared for good, but my attempts were futile. The creases in the sheet would only pop back up, and within mere moments, I couldn't even remember what had happened. Only the haunting feeling of longing remained in the still morning air.
"Fourth Princess. Please get ready. The emperor demands your presence." The voice reminded, dispelling the last inklings of an alternate reality.
I didn't want to see him. But his word was the law. He was the emperor, the puppeteer of us all. If he commanded us to cry, if we didn't weep, it would be considered treason.
I sat up straight and let the maids file into my temporary quarters, reminding myself that Youshi was gone, and only the fourth daughter of the emperor remained.
At first, I was reluctant against having a pair of foreign hands dress me, but once I saw the complexity of the court gown, I relented. Layer by layer, like a doll, I was repackaged into someone completely different. Admittedly, the elegant dress with colored shawls was beautiful, but it trailed behind me, forcing me to slow my steps.
Just a day into this golden cage, and its glamor was already tiring.
After they cleaned my face, lightly dabbing everywhere with towels, I was set in front of an ornate bronze mirror. I stared blindly at my reflection, only to see the empress near me from behind.
In her hands, she held a wooden comb and motioned to run it through my hair.
I immediately turned and curtsied, and her raised hand fell by her side again. "Empress, this isn't compliant with court rules. If other consorts hear of such a scene, Youshi fears that Your Highness's honor will be violated."
She nodded, a mixed expression underlying the small smile on her face.
"Turn around and sit," her voice was light, nowhere near a command, "Let's not keep your Father Emperor from waiting." Hesitantly, I obeyed. She was the head of the six palaces and must have known all the rules to heart. Her actions only meant that she had already set her heart to it.
"One comb till the end, fortunes you shall spend." She ran the comb gently through my hair, careful not to tangle any parts. "Two combs till the end, health shall not expend." Her voice had a singsong quality to it, almost lullaby-like in sound. "Three combs till the end, many sons stemmed."
Her hands were shaking ever-so-slightly, and from her reflection in the bronze-mirror, I could see that she was sobbing. Beads of tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Last comb till the end, till white hair your marriage transcends." She took longer on this final brush, running her hands through my hair while saying the last line of the verse.
Secretly, I wanted her to extend the moment even longer. It seemed vaguely reminiscent, though I couldn't quite pinpoint the moment of familiarly, and it seemed like it was from a dream.
"Per custom, I was to sit with you the night before you are to be wed and bless you then. Well," her voice shook. "I hope you didn't mind my early good wishes."
Surely, I once dreamed of a moment such as this. But never have I had a face for the figure in my imagination.
I shook my head, and we both stared blankly, lost in our own thoughts, as the maids painted a new face for me.
"Youshi, don't live like me," she smiled and whispered as she walked me out the door. "I beg of you."
As I was led once again down the winding cobblestone steps to the study of the emperor, I found that the anticipation from merely a day ago was gone without a wisp, replaced altogether by an overwhelming emptiness.