The Moonlight Pearl Palace was the illustrious home of Junshu's Empress Consort. It was protected by its own set of tall walls and a gate. Past the gate, one could see a private garden of flowers and herbs, and even a few fruit trees. The patios and balconies had many potted plants and sculptures to admire. The columns had delicate images carved in them, flower petals and seeds that eternally rained down.
There was a nursery inside where a toddler princess slept in an alcove bed that might have been too big for her. A nanny slept on a pallet on the floor nearby. Only a tiny oil lamp was allowed to shine in this dark space, in case someone needed to get up and use a chamberpot. And the little princess often had woken up in the middle of the night with damp sheets anyway. Poor dear.
The Empress Consort's room was a respectable distance away. It had the most fragrant plants and incense.
The Madam's body was a on the shorter side, and her ears wear similar, pointy as anyone else's but smaller in length. Her hair was similar to her husband's, long and pale blonde, glowing under the limited firelight. Unlike her husband's, it was tightly kept in a coiffure with two sections shaped like butterfly wings. The ornaments had been removed, but it was still an impressive structure.
Her almond shaped eyes were turned away from the man above her. Her white face was like a melon seed. The delicate jaw was obviously clenched. The smooth nostrils of the slim nose were flaring.
Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin thought she was beautiful, painfully beautiful, a spring flower with all the softness.
But she never did seem to enjoy his grace.
Some minutes ago, he'd tried what he'd always tried before. He'd hooked her legs over his shoulders and licked as much of her as his tongue could reach. At least the Empress would often coo and sigh at this. But she almost never flexed nor tensed against his mouth as most of his other consorts would do. In fact, after a time, she'd often have her foot's heel rap against his back as if she wanted to say, "I'd appreciate it if you stopped right now."
Her thick flavor was still on his lips as he gripped her hips and pressed his knees into the bed, lunging forward and plunging his manhood deep inside.
Careful not to press too hard, his teeth went to her shoulder as her perfume and makeup's sweet aromas blended in with the musk on his mouth. He'd been here before, drowning in his own lust, but not finding any hint of hers.
After a while, frustration itself frustrated him, if that could even be done. And no matter how tight she felt, no matter how easily his shaft glided in and out, the Emperor could only find happiness in random thoughts. For example, how big was the world? How many people existed? What was beyond the sky? How big was the sun?
He turned limp.
The Emperor didn't feel apologetic. This didn't always happen, but it certainly had happened before. The Empress never seemed to care, or if she did she certainly never told him about her feelings. She only sighed as if she was relieved to know he was going away without finishing the job.
But just as his bare feet touched a rug on the floor, he thought of something.
His legs folded back up as he crawled into the bed again, and he put his fingers on the Empress' cheek, touching the soft paint.
The only reaction he found was a swift puff of air from her lips.
The Emperor leaned in again. This time, he got close enough to taste her sweet breath.
When his lips touched hers for the briefest of moments, the Empress jerked away and shrieked, "What?!"
He moved away, his fingers brushing her rouge as they floated off. "I ... are you hurt?"
Her palm hovering near her mouth, Empress Shungjahe Atsuka pushed herself to a sitting position. She looked angry. "I thought ... for a moment my mind was wild and I thought you'd bite my lips off!"
"Oh." He truly moved off the bed then, convinced that he wouldn't find what he'd been yearning for in this palace. "I wouldn't do that, but since you're so frightened I won't disturb you anymore."
The Emperor put his seed in a concubine that night. He felt some guilt because he'd woken her up from her sleep to do it. He decided the recompense would be a gift of some sort. Perhaps an old but well loved painting he kept in storage. But she probably wasn't upset. It was in a consort's best interest to submit to his sexual advances. If she became pregnant, more wealth and glory would be in store for her.
And the Emperor always rewarded the mothers of his children.
The Emperor was in charge of his women. He basically owned them, but he didn't want to be cruel to them.
***
On the next morning, Wen took breakfast in her apartment. It was the second breakfast she'd had in the Tree Cage. During that meal, one of her maids said, "The Empress Dowager's birthday dinner will be tomorrow. Our kind Mistress is invited, but she won't be asked to give a gift."
Then the maids started guessing to each other about what they thought the other dinner guests might give the Empress Dowager. Pieces of embroidery? Prayer beads made of polished gemstones? Packets of rare tea leaves? Who could say?
After breakfast, Wen sat in her bedroom, at her little vanity desk and mirror. Then, her eyes widening a bit, she said to Nuan, who had been looking for something, "I need a comb and a pair of scissors."
"Hm? Would you like for me to trim the split ends in your hair?" Nuan asked as she looked in a case of grooming tools.
"No, not quite."
Nuan spent some time combing her hair down her back, and she eventually asked, "Why does my Mistress want the scissors?"
Wen took a lock of hair in her fingers.
