Title: The Jade Princess

Genre: Romance, Historical Drama

Ratings: All ages

Part: Two/Seven

//

Summer. June 25, 656.

“His Majesty the Emperor thus decrees: Lady Jung Sooyeon has rebelled against Her Highness the Empress, stealing the Her Highness’s jade ring which had been presented to Her Highness by His Majesty himself. Thievery is an act of rebel against the Heavens, but due to the boundless benevolence of Her Highness, her sentence is lowered. Lady Jung will be stripped of her title and she will be exiled in Xinjiang. Lady Jung, accept the decree!”

The harsh, merciless tone of the eunuch and the indifferent expression on Yoona’s face stupefy the court. The officials do not rise, for they know better than to incur the wrath of their irascible empress. Sprawled on the floors of the courtroom is a maiden, her beauty utterly ravished by fear; she quivers as she crawls to her knees, and a bitter, frightened cry escapes her lips – “I accept. Th-thank you Your Highness for your mercy.”

Yoona does not display any acknowledgement, her unblinking eyes staring down at the maiden, like a falcon to its unfortunate prey. Age-wise, Yoona is younger than the alleged girl, but she proves herself no less inferior when she does not even bat an eyelid. She does not smirk, but a sea of triumph is distinctly visible in her eyes.

Jiaheng’s fingers creep over his empress’s, his eyes latching upon her and not the concubine he had once utilized. “Your fingers are tense, my Empress,” he remarks innocuously, only to have his comment wrongly misinterpreted by the livid Yoona.

“The tenseness is from yours, my lord. Hardly have I tensed myself over the matters of your concubines,” she responds cleverly, her penetrative eyes stabbing his conscience. “Are you unsettled, my lord? Have Physician Oh tend to you.”

He retracts his hand when he detects the malice in her words and the bitter acrimony in her eyes. “I feel apologetic towards you, my Empress. Nothing more. I have known your fondness for jade for six years yet I have allowed a thief to rob you of it. It is my fault, and my fault alone.” He says this despite having with him the knowledge of the devious ploy that she had conjured.

“You do not need to apologize, my lord. Women are selfish creatures, after all.” She rises, and he stumbles to his feet to hold her arm. The men and women of the court collapse into deep bows. “Thus, you must forgive me for my selfishness, my lord; I have to see my son.”

“I will dismiss the court; you may leave first, my Empress.”

She curtsies politely and strides out the courtroom with her head held high. He watches her from behind, and he does not see a depraved woman who has callously stripped his concubine of her title; but a shrewd, peerless young woman who is irreplaceable in court, in the kingdom and in his heart.

“And so, she planned it all?” Sooyoung’s jaw drops, gawking in astonishment at her friend. “She staged it, yet Lady Jung has to be sentenced?”

Seo Joohyun, an imperial concubine of the same rank as Sooyoung – not used but awaiting the night she would ride the sedan chair, jabs a finger to Sooyoung’s mouth to silence her. “The empress could have you beheaded for speaking of her so informally; and with such volume, at that! Speak with discretion, Sooyoung!”

“But this is horrible! That is such a horrible, horrible, horrible act!” Sooyoung exclaims, enunciating on her words. “Vile, cruel and-“

“I would have presumed that five months in the palace has presented you with experience, Sooyoung,” Joohyun shushes her softly, before pulling her to a corner. “As vile and monstrous as the deed is, everyone in the palace is subjected to the rules of the Empress. It is her who rules the court, both the inner and outer court. Being against her is an act of rebellion – you heard it yourself.”

Her words do not effectively subdue Sooyoung’s heated protests. “But Lady Jung- I mean, Sooyeon,” she corrects herself when she meets Joohyun’s warning gaze. Lady Jung had been stripped of her title and thus would be addressed informally by name. “Sooyeon has millions of her own jewels! A jade ring – Sooyeon is not one to steal such an item either. What fault does she have? She is not-“

“Her crime is not of the thievery of the jade ring, Sooyoung, but it is the attempted thievery of the Her Highness’s position,” Joohyun says knowingly, recalling past events. “She became too close to His Majesty for her own good. This would serve as a wakeup call for all the concubines in court, the officials and even His Majesty himself. Her Highness is demonstrating her power to induce fear to those who try to trample her.”

“His Majesty did not show an ounce of care for Lady Jung- Sooyeon either,” Sooyoung stammers with her words, then corrects herself for the second time. “He is supposed to protect her!”

“And why is that?”

“Because he used her-“

“We are his tools, Sooyoung; we are supposed to be used,” Joohyun expounds bitterly. “The imperial palace is ruled by Her Highness, little by His Majesty. The officials get a bit of the honor when they can snuggle up to either of them emotionally. But us concubines – we’re nothing more than vermin. Vermin that live to work for their masters and afterwards be discarded of. Sooyeon should count herself fortunate – she can leave the palace with her head still connected to her neck.”

The vitriolic acerbity of Joohyun’s soliloquy claws at Sooyoung, swirling wonders into Sooyoung’s mind of why such a pretty and somewhat knowledgeable lady would land herself in the imperial palace as an unused concubine.

“Then why are you here?”

Joohyun chuckles bitterly, “My younger brother is a physician here who’s respected by both His Majesty and Her Highness. We are not blood-related but I live to care for him. I want to make sure that no harm comes to him. Unlike the rest of us dirty-minded fools, he came here to save the lives of the people.”

Sooyoung bites her lip. “Do you love him?” She asks tactlessly, to which Joohyun responds with another tart chortle.

“I wish I could love him.”

Joohyun’s acrimonious disposition is more infectious that Sooyoung had presumed it to be earlier. Memories course through Sooyoung’s mind; she thinks about home, about freedom, about love, and she wonders if she will ever experience any of it before she too, suffers the same ruthless plight as Lady Jung.

//

Summer. July 15, 656.

It is sweltering hot, the afternoon is unpleasantly sultry, but Qian does not regret making her delivery during such an hour. She has been cooped up in the house for a little too long, thus validating her argument against Mi. The conclusion is a satisfactory one – Qian gets to send jade to the palace once a month.

She skips along the ridged pathway, her smile resembling that of an exuberant child’s. It is not merely the triumph over the brother or the fact that she could now enter the palace often that keeps her cheerful, but it is the company she receives. A boy with matted bronze hair ambles alongside her, drawing a fair bit of attention from on-looking ladies; and Qian feels like she’s on top of the world because he’s accompanying her.

“I don’t know why you would want to take over your brother’s duties of delivering the jade,” Luhan comments airily, running his fingers through his hair. Qian feels her breath hitch but holds herself back from hyperventilating. “Isn’t it a bother?”

She tucks a hair behind her ear tactfully and smiles, “No, it’s not. He’s busy with the family business and all. My parents are getting old; they can no longer manage all the calculations. Better than them being swindled, it’s good that Mi is taking over them and leaving the deliveries to me.”

“I see,” Luhan nods. “He’s responsible.”

“Mi-ge has always been responsible,” Qian replies, attempting to keep the conversation flowing. Before she left, Sooyoung was the one capable of conversing neutrally with Luhan without unnecessary awkwardness. Qian, however, is incapable of doing this.

Luhan casually speaks again, “Jongdae’s in a big mess, though. Whining and crying and refusing to accept any of the matchmaker’s offers; his parents are at their wits’ end. Jongin has become a hefty advisor in court and Jongdae still continues rambling about Sunyoung every day,” he snorts. “Who thought he would be so dramatic about love.”

“Well, I suppose men don’t really understand love until they feel it themselves,” Qian blushes, hoping her prompt would be useful. “Sooyoung once told me that you’re all insensitive creatures.”

“Are you trying to imply that I’m insensitive?” He teases her, and she instantly recoils.

She waves her hands defensively, misunderstanding his simple tease. “You’re not! You’re absolutely not! You’re playful and all, but you’re kind and you’re clever, and you’re always considerate-“

“I was kidding,” Luhan interrupts, bursting into peals of laughter. “I didn’t think you were insulting me. You never insult people.”

Qian laughs dryly at his wicked sense of humor, though inwardly not amused. “You’re such a tease.”

“I probably am insensitive,” he continues, oblivious to the hints of her displeasure. “I study all day, sometimes make crude remarks about women with my fellow scholars. I don’t understand love and don’t really give a crap about it; and after that I’d laugh at Jongdae for being such a fool. Sooyoung’s always right about these things.”

“You’ll understand love one day, Luhan, when you find someone you love. That day, you’ll cling to her and follow her every whim; and if she really is in the arms of someone else, you’ll still give up your life for her. That’s love.” It will be me, won’t it? She doesn’t say that, however.

Luhan emits a low chuckle, “We’ll see about that. I’ll probably go home later, immerse myself in books and poke fun at Jongdae, just like I do every day. If that love bull ever comes to you, you can tell me how it feels like.”

She smiles at his statement; he has a penchant for being too frank and forthright at times, but Luhan is an innocuous person whose words are just as innocuous as he is.

And she likes him for that, for being a good person amidst a far-from-good society.

Qian inhales then exhales, attempting to calm her flustered nerves after having stepped through the main gates of the palace. Standing amidst the grand, majestic entrance hall, she feels like her breath has been stolen in broad daylight.

The colossal buildings of the imperial palace are flanked around the entrance hall, their roofs adorned with gleaming yellow tiles. The roofs are invariably and prominently supported by set of brackets, each one with the mark of a dedicated carpenter. Gigantic beams and pillars surround her; the double doors of each gate and each building almost triple her height. Qian feels like an inferior little midget in front of the great heavens.

The palace walls are built with rammed earth; Qian recalls Mi once telling her that. And the gates have five-paneled doors, painted red and decorated with gold tracks; its walls are lavishly decorated with dragon, phoenix and floating-cloud patterns to match the carved beams, painted rafters and yellow-glazed-tile roofs. The grandeur is unfamiliar to Qian, who has spent half her life in the simple manor her adoptive parents had single-handedly constructed; and despite feeling overwhelmed, she is indubitably impressed, breathless by what her eyes present to her.

She feels blessed, so blessed to be able to enter such a splendid palace. Luhan’s earlier insist to wait outside now causes soft rumbles of laughter to escape her lips; he missed a good sight. And to think she would have the opportunity to return repeatedly? Qian feels like she’s sailing above the clouds.

Qian’s mind drifts to Sooyoung, as well as the desolate empress she had set her eyes on twice. Inwardly, she laughs at them – why would you not want to live in such beauty?

But Qian is only two steps in. She doesn’t know the risk of taking another step. She doesn’t know what the superficial beauty of the palace conceals. She doesn’t know that the empress is far from desolate. She doesn’t know it all…

Not yet.

All she can see is how pretty, how tranquil, and how serene the sky looks.

//

Summer. August 15, 656.

Qian watches the crisp autumn leaves cascade down the trees, and she realizes that she has not seen Sooyoung since spring.

She enters and leaves the imperial palace for the second time, yet a strange familiarity nestles in her heart like she has lived there her whole life. She remembers more than she has to, vivid is each sharp angle and each intricately carved curve; she wonders for how much longer will she have to enter and leave with only snippets yet be so content with them.

Her remorse and the stringent rules of the imperial palace prevent Qian from searching out her best friend. Qian knows that Sooyoung may be a lady by now, a prominent lady whose rank surpasses even Jongin’s; but above all prominence Qian acknowledges the fact that they once were, and in her heart, still are, the best of friends.

Qian clasps her hands together and mutters a prayer for her friend, standing outside the arched gates of the imperial palace. Entrapped within is her best friend, and whether she enjoys such confinement or not, Qian hopes only the best for her.

Because Sooyoung is a good person and she deserves good things.

And she thinks this way though she knows the world is not run by golden leaves, honey and love.

//

Summer. September 28, 656.

“I didn’t think you would show up,” Minseok admits to his new comrade – a lithe, dark-eyed teenager with bold audacity that is well beyond his looks.

The pathway is barely illuminated by the faint candle in the lantern held by Minseok, but they manage to squint their way through the corridors. Kim Jongin may be unfamiliar with the secret passageways of the palace, but he does know the reason for their existence. And to him, that is all that matters.

“And why would you say that?”

“Given what people have surmised about Her Highness, no one dares to aid her. Most people prefer to remain floating on stagnant waters.”

“Rubbish,” Jongin says dismissively. “There’s a war raging outside. Stagnant waters are merely outwardly stagnant. They’re all fools to settle for momentary peace.”

Minseok chuckles at his bold remark, “You’ve got nerve, lad. Should’ve become a general.”

“Then, shouldn’t you have become a scholar?” Jongin shoots back wittily.

Minseok laughs in response; and they both know their laughter is just comfort for their unnerved minds to the impending storm that they would have to face.

Sometimes, Yoona thinks it would be better if she did not sleep. The psychos who call themselves physicians have advised her day and night about sleep being the cure to all the hurt in the world. A load of crap, she calls them. To her, it’s all about as rational as the concurrent war between her kingdom of Silla, and the kingdom of Tang that she controls.

So she takes advantage of the period of which people sleep. Yoona is not nocturnal, but she believes that nothing in the world is unalterable, so she has gotten her body clock perfectly altered to fit her plans. And that means that she does not shut her eyes, even for one minute, until the dawn breaks. Unlike the meek, vulnerable ladies of the palace, Yoona treats darkness as a friend.

“Your Highness, General Kim Minseok and Advisor Kim Jongin have arrived to see you,” the eunuch calls, and her ears perk up. Her officials have arrived. Her appointment has begun.

The two men humbly enter, collapsing into deep bows at her feet. They offer her resonating greetings and well-wishes, and she bids them to rise, with a smirk unmistakably curving at the corners of her lips. Jiaheng is not the only man she can meet at night, and she finds it amusing how he permits it.

“Rise, gentlemen. Minseok,” she refers to him fondly, “who, may I ask, is this young man you wish to introduce to me?”

“Kim Jongin, Your Highness,” Minseok responds immediately, without delay. Yoona is not fond of delay and Minseok is well-aware of that. “He entered the palace a few months before and gained His Majesty’s recognition for his sharp wit.”

Yoona’s eyes glint, averting towards Jongin. “You do have much audacity, Advisor,” she slurs provocatively, and with the shivers running down his spine Jongin understands why the empress is renowned for her malice. “It is not every day a stray cat wonders into the tiger’s den.”

“Baby cubs return to their mother tigers, Your Highness,” he responds wittily.

She emits an amused laugh, “And you think of yourself as my cub, Kim Jongin?” She leans forward, resting her elbow on the table. A few stray dark curls fall to the edges of her face, enhancing the almost-ethereal beauty she possesses. “Do you have what it takes to be my cub? You do realize that if I am not fond of you, I can kill you now.”

Jongin’s heart quakes, but he does not tremble outwardly. “We all have to die one day, Your Highness. It would be an honor to die in your hands.”

Yoona chuckles, “A wise choice you have made, Minseok.” Minseok heaves an inaudible sigh of relief – his head is safe. “But a tarnished conscience you will obtain, Advisor. After all, what comes next will not merely be banishing concubines to the outskirts. That is merely the preliminary stage; you do realize that, do you not?”

“I am willing to wield my sword for you, Your Highness. After all, all men will have their consciences tarnished when they die.” Jongin shows little hesitancy, and Yoona feels pleased.

“Then, a test of your knowledge – what will I ask you to do, Advisor?”

“Lady Seo Joohyun has indubitably become close to His Majesty. You seek her death, Your Highness. Not her banishment, but her death.”

“You can eradicate her for me,” Yoona says silkily. It is not a question. “If you do, you should be aware of how much wealth and position I can easily present to you.”

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