Chereads / The Face Behind the System / Chapter 30 - The Life of the Lowest Concubine

Chapter 30 - The Life of the Lowest Concubine

"Noble Consort Jing, you may rise," the Emperor ordered of the lady who stood before him, her arms folded in an immaculate bow with her back at the perfect angle, her face meekly facing the floor and her eyes pointed downwards.

The woman quickly, but not too quickly, straightened herself up, smoothing down her robes and walked forwards into the light of the moon, pouring through the high windows of the Emperor's Imperial bedroom and the only possible light source to guide her as she moved.

"Why did you take such an interest in the servant boy at the banquet, Noble Consort Jing?" His Majesty asked of his many humble spouses that he had accumulated throughout the years.

The lady in question lifted her head to stare directly into her king's eyes, a raging, burning fire swirling within them as her fists clenched at her sides, and her painted rouge lips flattened to resemble the edge of a sharp and blood thirsty knife.

"The servant boy has the late Empress' eyes," she declared, her voice strong and steady as she broke all the rules of propriety and revealed her true self to the one man that, by all metrics and measurements, she had ought to fear the most.

The Emperor's eyes closed momentarily, before they opened once more hardened. His gold eyes seemed to glow in the shadows of the room, as he sat on the bed, the masts of the structure blocking out the silver white light that shone down onto his wife and encasing his entire body in shadows, as he perched on the ends of the bed.

The silvery streaks that would have glittered like diamonds were not visible, and nor was his pale, alabaster skin, a trait of his that he had developed later in life when he began seeing less and less of the sun as he was forced to sit indoors and work at his desk, rather than frolic and war against his enemies at the borders.

His bedchambers were simple in design, and constructed to be so, with only one large bed, one large window, one large desk, and one large chair. The bed sat in the middle of the room, pushed against the wall, with the window to the side of it. His desk sat opposite the window and in it's full view, in case he needed the moon's light when the candles that were dotted around the room, happened to burn out in the early hours of the morning.

There was only one door into the room, and it was placed at the wall, next to the window, forcing all that walked through it to provide a side profile to whatever natural light was flowing through it and to immediately face the bed.

Noble Consort Jing still wore her yellow robes, still wore her makeup, and still was decked out, from head to toe, in all the finery that a concubine her rank would be wearing.

"When you requested that you would prefer a rather unorthodox seating position, I was not expecting this sort of news," the Emperor tactically commented, neither outright denying or accepting the validity of her statement, careful not to question her judgement in the matter either.

"He was adopted by one of the kitchen maids, who was also at the banquet. Lan Chang, her name was, and they shared a long hug when I let him go. The boy has your jaw and cheeks," Noble Consort Jing went on to explain, tacking the last bit onto her piece to add another layer of credibility to her claim.

"I see..." the Emperor mused, dropping his head down onto the laced fingers that were supported by his elbows on his knees.

"I want you to keep an eye on the boy and observe how he performs during the next banquet for the Lu Ambassador. I heard from my brother that an extra guest will accompanying their entourage. Keep well, my little song bird," the Emperor informed Noble Consort Jing, addressing her by the private nickname that they had kept between themselves, as he waved her away, bidding her farewell.

She did not bow as she left him that night, instead walking straight out of the door, with her head held up high with the new, invigorated purpose that she had been given.

Xiao Ying, stood in the corridor and watching her move towards her own private pavilion to, no doubt, begin discussing the situation and planning for it with her own private maids, gave a sigh that he knew none of them would hear.

Han Jing was one of many daughters borne from one of the Emperor's minor magistrates, a child somewhere in the middle in age, compared to the rest of her siblings and mostly unremarkable as her parents attempted again and again for a son, but the magistrate's wife kept bearing daughters, nonetheless.

Their family ruled over a large area of mostly useless countryside, not at all an enviable position for the mediocre fertility of the soil, lack of mines which contained precious metals, and mostly without any noteworthy exported goods to make the region famous in any possible way: the perfect place for the Emperor to make himself a private resort of sorts to escape the pomp and flash of his city and Imperial lifestyle.

His staff had cooperated, on his behalf, with the magistrate's family, and there had been an extensive correspondence between all parties apparently involved with the construction of the new palace, situated with a wide, open field of flowers to gaze out at, surrounding the entirety of the building and looking as if they went on for miles.

When the Emperor did finally arrive, he had decided that he would enjoy going on a hunting trip within the forests outside the flower fields, but was told again and again, by some no name daughter of the magistrate, who had insisted on coming to his palace every single day, much to the annoyance of his servants, that he could not go to various places across the new lands that he had accrued, and every single day, she provided him with another reason why he could not go.

He had initially been amused by the young lady who was insistent and bossy, without much regard for propriety and almost fundamentally fearing the affliction of power over others, but his enjoyment had quickly soured after a week of having to deal with the restrictions placed upon him, the similarities between her and his recently deceased wife now becoming almost too painful to bear and slightly annoying.

Until he had stumbled upon her kneeling over the corpse of a man dresses completely in black, right outside his bedchambers in the dead of night.

He submitted his request to marry her the very next day.