A great poet once wrote about a bird in a cage, a story to which many are familiar today. He observed the metal bars that kept the animal from freedom and watched the slow decay of the poor creature to nothing but dirty feathers, bones and a mute sigh of damnation. The comment of this fellow artist was that if something was stifled, suffocated and held captive, then its beauty would degrade until nothing was left and the court did not take this observation frivolously. It was about three weeks, nearly a month that the harem was allowed out of its confines. This had always been tradition, naturally a doctrine inscribed by males. No man would ever understand death by boredom, forced to sew and look pretty the entire season and so the ladies would suffer.

This particular tradition was a form of housekeeping, a reminder of the courts authority and the unbending criteria that governed the place with a firm fist. After the trivialities of the harem had settled like dust, they were allowed to roam and explore and make the most of themselves in the imperial confines or else they’d stagnate like pressed flowers. This was done to minimise the commotion surrounding the girls as they were the sole properties of the Princes and no one else. If they were allowed out too early, who knew what scandal would happen? The duration of keeping them room-bound reminded them of their place at the bottom of the hierarchy and the arduous waiting time once again reinforced what gratitude they should show as subservient women to the court in granting them freedom.

You hated the idea of being so repressed, but followed anyway because being allowed out meant exactly that, you were allowed out. However, the only down side was that the Princes had the option of choice more often, not that it really mattered to most of them who overstatedly claimed they had no interest in the opposite gender. Today was the first day of freedom and the girls were planning to walk along the palace grounds and explore the gardens. Some girls wanted to visit the shrine that was rumoured to be somewhere in the grounds and make offerings but you just wanted to get back to your job. You thought about walking with them the first day so as to not seem suspicious and then as for the second day, you’d split up – using the need to borrow books from your grandfather as an excuse to leave them. They wouldn’t mind too much, because they’d be too tired to care. It was a great plan.

The royal sat amid the incense smoke, the wrinkles on his face indented so deeply that if one simply took a passing glance, they’d think that the man was just a mixture of melting skin. His wrinkles were a permanent tattoo of his troubles and toils over the years, but even these inscriptions were a weight to bear.

“Addressing you by ‘your majesty’ would be inappropriate now would it?” another grey-haired figure dressed much more flamboyantly than the first spoke through his pipe, blowing smoke into the other’s face. He smiled and tapped his nails along the lacquered table.

The first man didn’t say anything. He was so tired. He was exhausted from it all. He wanted to leave this place and be rid of all his responsibilities. The monastery bell tolled, once, twice, three times signalling that daily mediation, the recitation of the Buddhist scriptures were about to commence and the second man stood up.

“I should get going now. It was a pleasant conversation,” he chuckled darkly, pulling the pipe from his lips, “Don’t pray too hard, because we both know that it won’t get you anywhere.” As he left the guarded rooms, his laugh could be heard echoing with the breeze.

The tired man looked like he had aged another century. With a slow hand, he gripped the edge of the table tighter and tighter, the white of his wrinkled knuckles showing. In one swift movement, the man’s exhaustion disappeared to make room for rage and he lifted the table, flipping its contents of empty teacups into a sprawl across the floor. The porcelain shattered loudly, the sound reverberating into the nearby furniture. He exhaled slowly; dry, soundless sobs broke from his chest. He prayed. He prayed so desperately. But he didn’t need to be reminded that all was hopeless now.

“Did you get the map?” She walked next to you as you strolled around the palace. It was mid-afternoon and any outsider would find no problem with the arrangement: a maid escorting a member of the harem, walking side by side as you talked about trivial matters, but your topic of conversation was anything but trivial.

No matter how many times you met your acquaintance in misconduct, she never fazed you about how odd you were as a couple. It was like some ubiquitous hand had plucked a complete stranger from the other side of the city at random and you were forced to work with them without any qualms of identity – who you were behind the mask. You didn’t even know her name or anything about her background, yet you had complete trust in her like a friend – but not even a friend at that. It was so strange.

“Yeah,” you didn’t dare tell her though that you had received help from a certain sometime because you bumped into a pissed off royal on the way. Even though the two of you worked well, there were still things that you kept from her, and it was for the better. “I’ve hid it, but I remembered a lot of the places off by heart now.”

She nodded in approval, “I know, I’ve moved it though – your hiding place was crap.” She said it so bluntly, you looked at her dumbfounded.

“What? You moved it? How the hell did you find it? It took me ages to decide on a hiding place and then to actually hide it with leaves and crap.” You stopped walking to yell at her but she then shushed you, looking around frantically if anyone heard the noise.

“Shuuush! Geez, I can’t believe you. It doesn’t matter where I put; it’s safe there.” She rolled her eyes. “What I wanted to tell you is that we have news and Qi-yan wants to meet again.” She began to walk once more and you had to run a little for a few paces to catch up to her.

“Where and when?” you asked.

“He’s chosen a more inconspicuous place this time.” She snickered and then paused for effect, “the red light district.”

You made an exaggerated face. “No. ohhh, no, no, no,” you hushed this time but your words were just as seething, “No way in hell am I going to a freaking brothel.”

The maid gave you a stern look, “look, I heard last time he came here he was nearly shot with an arrow.” And you looked back at her sheepishly, so she continued, “It’s too dangerous to conduct meetings here, and not only will it be just you, the other members in action will be there too. Don’t think you’re so special just because he likes you that he’ll come especially to bring news.”

“When is it then?”

“Well, the red light district doesn’t open till around 8; Qi-yan wants you all to be there by 9. It gives you all an hour to reach there. It’s a famous one that is a house of scandal and notorious for secret-keeping. I heard the madame there has connections everywhere and knows everyone’s darkest and dirtiest secrets, but she’s been a loyal supporter of Crimson Lotus.”

“Oh, really?” you asked her, a little surprised. Those people always came off as too cunning and sly for their own good.

“Yeah, only because be pay her weight in gold so that she keeps her expensive, greedy mouth shut.”

“Ahh, I see.” You nodded to yourself. “But how will I get out of the harem in time?” the problem posed was giving you yet, another distress to think about.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” She grinned shrewdly and shivers ran down your spine. You barely knew the girl but had complete faith in her. Let’s just hope her plan goes accordingly. 

 Enjoy, lovelies~