The broken world

Neither the next day nor the day after did he see the emperor. But on the evening of the following day, a young maid in a dress the color of spring leaves approached Gerel. "Honorable General Gerel?" The question was unnecessary — only a blind man could mistake him for someone else — but he nodded. The maid placed a delicately perfumed, rolled-up note into his hand. "From my mistress," she said, blushing. "She wishes to meet with you." None of the Ryukoku officials were nearby; only a few of his own soldiers witnessed the scene. They immediately began whispering, clearly convinced the note contained some romantic verses. Once, Gerel might have seemed to them like a half-mythical monster, but years of service together had familiarized them with him a little. Now, they were willing to believe that some courtly lady had cast an admiring eye on their grim guest. After all, he was a celebrated general, even if as fearsome as a yaoguai. It seemed they had yet to grasp the vast chasm that separated the women of Cheongju, who might well indulge in romances with foreign diplomats, from the women of Ryukoku. He could not imagine any of these silent, mutilated creatures daring to arrange a tryst with a stranger. There was something else strange about the maid. He couldn't recall seeing her before, which meant one of two things: either she had been hired recently, or she truly belonged to the women's quarters of the palace. Unrolling the note, Gerel read: "At the Hour of the Rooster, by the gates of the Wisteria Pavilion in the women's palace. This same maid will guide you to the room." For a love letter, the invitation was unusually straightforward, to say the least. More likely, this was something else entirely. Could it be a message from the emperor? Perhaps he wanted one last conversation? No, unlikely — they had already discussed everything of importance. He burned the note, just in case. At the Hour of the Rooster, he went as instructed to the women's palace and found the specified building. The maid, a shadow slipping silently from the darkness, emerged to guide him through a labyrinth of corridors. Finally, she stopped before a door and whispered, "You are expected," before vanishing as quietly as she had come. Gerel entered. Upon seeing who awaited him, he stopped in surprise. A woman, around forty, sat on the bed. She was still very beautiful, but her face radiated ambition, and her eyes glinted with such coldness that only someone with an exceptionally vivid imagination could suspect her of secret rendezvous or romantic escapades. He noticed in passing that her feet were of normal size — not disfigured by binding. While such feet were undoubtedly considered a mark of poor lineage here, she made no attempt to hide them beneath her skirts. The woman smiled coolly at him and began speaking in flawless Yuiguian: "My respects, General. My name is Sun Xiaolian. Do not be surprised that I arranged to meet you in the women's quarters — everywhere else in the palace, there are eyes and ears. A woman, however, raises no suspicions in this land." She needn't have introduced herself; he recognized her before she spoke. He had never seen this woman before, yet her face was the mirror image of the young emperor's — distorted, corrupt, and malicious, but unmistakably similar. So this was her: Sun Xiaolian, the Empress Dowager. "I know who you are," he replied curtly, without bowing. "I'll be frank: I believe you, General, could use an ally at Yukinari's court." "And what makes you believe that?" Gerel asked, scrutinizing her. "I know you've spoken with the emperor, though official negotiations have yet to take place. I have many eyes and ears in this palace. I suspect you and he did not reach an understanding, and war is inevitable. Yukinari is young and naive. He does not realize he cannot win this war." "What makes you so certain your son will be defeated? He may be young, but he is hardly foolish, as far as I can tell," Gerel countered. "Moreover, he is charismatic. People follow him willingly. And he has shown himself to be a capable politician." "I assure you, he will not disappoint you as a military leader either, when the time comes to fight. He is indeed talented — talented in everything, as I must admit, despite my personal dislike for him. But regardless of what Yukinari has done to strengthen and prosper Ryukoku, Cheongju is far stronger. There is no doubt your side will prevail. My son is a fool not to see it." "If that's the case, why do you think Cheongju needs a spy, if we're bound to win anyway?" "Don't mock me, General... I am certain you have no desire for a drawn-out, grueling war. With an ally among your enemies, you could strike a few precise blows — ones that would bring you victory with minimal bloodshed." Madam Sun Xiaolian was utterly unlikable to Gerel, yet he couldn't deny that her words made sense. Ignoring such an opportunity would be foolish. "Well, let's say an ally wouldn't hurt. And what are you proposing?" "I propose to be that ally." It was an age of uncertainty, brimming with spies and double agents in every nation. Few dared to act without first studying their adversaries' and allies' strengths and weaknesses. Cheongju had its spies, too. But Sun Xiaolian could offer far more than an ordinary informant. She occupied an influential position at court and knew all its secrets. What, then, drove her to betrayal? Her claims about Cheongju's power and inevitable victory were, of course, flattering to Gerel, and not entirely without merit. But he could see there was another reason. "I cannot understand your motives... Why do you hate your son so much?" Gerel asked bluntly. Inwardly, he hoped for some vile story that might tarnish the overly perfect image of the young emperor. "Could you love the son of the man you were forced to marry?" Sun Xiaolian said quietly, her voice laced with venom. "The grandson of the man who sent your father and brothers to die in war?" Gerel shrugged noncommittally. A woman's lot was often bitter — true — but a man's wasn't much sweeter when it came to the tangled web of political marriages. He understood that for a proud aristocrat from the Land of the Tortoise — a place where women had long held equal rights to men, governed the state, and ruled the nation — a forced marriage was both a disgrace and a cruelty. Yet the child was blameless. And Sun Xiaolian lived a life of wealth and beauty that many would envy. As if reading his thoughts, Xiaolian spoke again: "I'll be perfectly honest with you. My position at court is precarious. You must have heard how Yukinari, as soon as he ascended the throne, carefully selected his inner circle, ensuring that every high-ranking position was filled by the most loyal individuals? Family ties are the only reason I am still alive, and not banished to some distant province. Yukinari keeps me at court only because of the fear of public backlash. For now, he tolerates my influence. But... Yukinari does not love me. No matter how I've tried to secure my place at court, nothing has worked. I can feel the day approaching when he decides to rid himself of me." It seemed to Gerel that Sun Xiaolian was not lying. The workings of the gods were strange indeed. Both Yukinari and his mother suffocated in the gilded cage of the Shinju palace, yearning for the same distant land. If this woman weren't blinded by her long-standing hatred, she and her son might have become allies rather than enemies. "A longing for a different, never-before-seen world, like phantom pain..." "You believe he's a danger to you?" Xiaolian laughed, and there was something broken and unhinged in her laughter. "I don't believe — I know. I know him better than anyone else. You've likely already fallen under his spell, haven't you, like everyone else? Yukinari is a charming monster. He tries very hard to appear good, but do you have any idea what the imperial palace of Ryukoku truly is? Only a monster can survive here and keep the throne." "And in exchange for your help, you want..." Gerel let her finish the thought. "I want nothing that doesn't already belong to me. I simply want to preserve what I have now — my life, my wealth, my influence — when Ryukoku falls." "You understand there can be no guarantees in such matters?" Gerel replied. "I can promise you anything, but would my word truly be enough for you?" "You will have an incentive to keep your word. If all goes as I wish when the war ends, my daughter, Mayumi, will become your wife. Princess Mayumi," Xiaolian emphasized. "What would stop me from killing you and taking her as my wife by force?" Gerel asked with a mocking smile. "She, like any other girl from Ryukoku, would rather hang herself than live in shame and dishonor. But a loving mother could convince her otherwise. Then, she would willingly agree to the marriage." You curse fate for forcing you into a marriage, yet here you are selling your daughter like a commodity? Gerel thought. He showed no outward sign of his disdain, but Xiaolian seemed to sense something in his expression nonetheless. She coldly remarked: "She is not like me. This fate will not burden her, for she can imagine no other. What does it matter to you? She will bear you a son with the blood of the Celestial Dragon. With such a wife and such a son, you would be accepted in Ryukoku as its governor — or even, should your ambitions stretch that far, as..." "I understand," Gerel interrupted. "Very well. This can be arranged," he said with a nod. Poor Yukinari. He was right not to trust this woman. Mother or not, she should have been sent far from the capital long ago, and the emperor would have no threats looming over him now. Still, it was intriguing — did she truly have reason to fear her son, or was this merely hatred and paranoia gradually driving her mad? Then again, all of this could be an elaborate ploy by Yukinari himself. It was not impossible that Xiaolian had been sent to Gerel on purpose, to feed him false information under the guise of treachery. But that would not be difficult to verify. The day of the negotiations arrived. The talks went exactly as Yukinari had predicted: they ended in nothing. The emperor stated that the offer of Tokhung's daughter's hand in marriage was an honor, but the terms of the alliance did not satisfy him. He was cold and distant, and Gerel could hardly believe that this was the same man who had recently spoken to him almost as a friend, passionately declaring that together they could change the world. The words they exchanged now fell like stones to the ground, heavy and meaningless. Once it became clear to everyone in the palace that no peace would be made, the attitude toward Gerel's armed entourage shifted. Suspicion, and even open hostility, replaced the politeness they had previously been shown. Staying as a guest of the Ryukoku emperor no longer felt like a pleasant retreat. Gerel began preparations to return home to Cheongju.