From her inner sleeve, Princess Leping dug out a crumpled piece of parchment.
"The servants had accidentally sent your aunt's letter to my room by default. I was busy schooling my daughter, so per habit, I didn't look before reading it," She leaned in yet closer. The room suddenly appeared to be much too small, and I could hear my pounding heartbeat.
How could they be so careless? And why would they bring such a sensitive and nonsensical topic up in a personal letter? Bitter frustration welled within me.
"My apologies," she whispered.
Her words were cold, warnings laced into every syllable. Her emotionless expressions betrayed none of her inner thoughts, but I knew that I was doomed.
"I can—" The words caught in my throat, and it suddenly felt as if the bandage across my hand was forcefully wrapped around my mouth instead.
Princess Leping began pacing toward the center of the room, where a coal pit was placed to help me better situate to the colder Northern climate.
Slowly, she bent down, stretching her neck as she did so as if the action was physically demanding. Especially, there was the slightest tremor to her form as she knelt in an obviously uncomfortable situation. It was clear that she had not done so for at least years.
I immediately rushed over to grab her a cushion, but she refused my gestures, holding her hands over the flames and lightly shaking her head. The letter in question hovered just out of reach of the lapping embers.
"Liang Princess, I wouldn't sit on these floors if I were you," she pressed her lips into a line. "This manor was a former home of a Zhou royal, but he along with the rest of the family has been since disposed of."
The way she spoke of the man's death was so calm that it was nearly shuddersome, and her voice remained flat as she recounted the horror.
When I didn't move, she added, "Don't worry. Father Emperor didn't sentence him to death here." She paused. "He was beheaded along with the rest at the central marketplace for the entire city to see. But I heard that a few people were forcibly dragged onto the streets, their fingernails torn out from clinging desperately to the floor, leaving bloody trails that interconnected into a river of scarlet."
I looked down, suddenly realizing that the entire ground was coated by an invisible coat of blood.
Memories of that horrid night came flooding back. The crimson beads that had hung off the silver needle flashed through my mind, only this time, the droplets that fell joined together into a sturdy flowing stream.
With that knowledge, even standing still became painful, and I almost wanted to sprint into the courtyard opening to calm my nerves. It was almost as if all these lost souls that I never knew existed before were clinging on to my feet, dragging me down.
She cast a sideways glance at the door, seeing that it was closed and the room left otherwise empty.
"I wish not to be involved in such rumors. I've seen my share of prophecies through my father's work already," her voice was hollow, softer than usual as she kept her voice low. "Now that I have wronged both the Sui and the Zhou with my stubbornness, all I want is a proper life for my daughter."
She closed her eyes, dreaming back to another time. "She may be only a heir of the title duchess now, but I will make sure that she grows up in her rightful position as a princess." A slash of defensiveness crossed her face.
"That means that I see nothing and hear nothing, too preoccupied by my manor to even leave its courtyard," she unfurled the letter once more.
It was social imprisonment, I realized. Her influence could still be dangerous for the Sui court, and her indignation to the Sui's title in place of her Zhou one was a mark of uncertainty of Sui rule.
"But I want the future Princess Consort of Jin to know that she is of this manor. By leaving this manor as if it was her birth family, I sincerely hope that she too will consider us as so. Especially, I hope that if she becomes better off, she will still remember to care for my daughter as if her blood kin." She gave me a warm smile. "If my daughter doesn't live the life she deserves, I cannot guarantee that this manor will be there to support the Liang Princess in the case something goes wrong."
The words rang more as a command than a question.
Her hand tilted toward the flames, drawing closer and closer before a corner caught on fire. The fire lapped at its edges, charring it black, before engulfing it whole.
The flame flickered eerily across her face, casting dancing shadows in the depth of her eyes, reflecting a covert rawness that never revealed itself before today. It was a mixture of hatred, betrayal, and tenacity all smelted into a pair of metal shackles.
The tall flames drew closer and closer to Princess Leping's hand, and I became increasingly worried that she would be hurt. But she looked so lost in her thoughts that I knew it wouldn't matter if I called out or not.
At the last minute, she dropped the growing ball of flames, and the paper hovered for a brief moment before plunging into a sea of flames.
Watching as it burned away to ashes before it even hit the bottom of the container, she leaned downward, and with a puff of air, it was all gone.
"So how—" Before I even finished the second word, she cut me off with a hush. It was a gentle gesture, one of near-maternal care.
"Whatever you want to ask can wait. Tomorrow night, as your makeshift kin, I will stay up with you the entire night," she said in a hushed tone as she stood up. Casually looking around, pointing at the painting that hung on the sidewall, she left the following words. "Be careful of the hidden ears next door."
She turned.
"I hope the Liang Princess carefully considers my words before tomorrow night."
My legs collapsed from underneath me, and I could only remember that I was touching death as I fell to the floor, all the energy drained from with.