They are bloody and dark times. The Great Chinese Empire on verge of falling apart. Splitting into multiple little kingdoms out of which only two had real power: the Tuan and the Yan dynasty. The two of them are having wars without end, without break, without sparing lives. When the Tuan king died a few years ago, the Yan king wanted to take advantage of the foolishly young new monarch and take over the country. Without a fair deal, King Mark refused and a new war started.

The Yan kingdom has the money but no real military force that could devour countries. The Tuans’ people on the other hand have been nothing but great soldiers without enough supplies. Both parties were struggling yet neither of them stopped this insane and meaningless battling. It was the matter of pride, it still is. So when Yan An’s father died in an accident (or who knows?), he tried to make reasonable choices, sign the peace but even his younger brother, the general thought that even without fighting, they can win if they wait until the other army weakens enough. The counsellors all supported the idea and Yan An as a new and inexperienced ruler had no say in it. He could only watch in silence as his people died.

So when he heard that the Tuans found the lost princess and they are willing to renew the marriage contract, he took the chance immediately. Because it meant the end of the war, finally the peace he yearned so much. Even if he thought it was merely a desperate attempt of the enemy to save their own people from dying of hunger, he didn’t care. Even if the princess wasn’t the real one. They just needed to become allies so together they can become the greatest kingdoms without putting a sword to each other’s neck.

They are in the middle of having breakfast when they get the news that the fights stopped at the fronts and General Sicheng is heading back to the palace. Since the coronation and the wedding both has to wait until him, the younger prince comes back, the royal court is waiting. Some think that only him who was born by the late Queen is the rightful heir of the throne while the oldest son, a bastard born out of wedlock shouldn’t claim the crown. A few counsellor hopes they can convince him to turn against his brother and lead the kingdom to victory in the Great War.

Yan An knows this, he is aware that even his people doubt his place on the throne but this is responsibility, his burden to bear. A promise he made to his father on his deathbed: he will protect his brother, everyone’s favourite prince and he will let him form his own destiny instead of driving him into becoming a king too soon.

A week later, a group of soldiers arrive greeted by flowers and clapping commoners who think this means the end of the fights. Perhaps they are right or this is just a sweet delusion they cannot escape.

“Your Highness, we have heard the wonderful news. Will you really marry our enemy’s sister? Congratulations!” the second in command chimes ironically but he earns a sharp glance from the general for his disrespect.

“They are not our enemies. We merely fight over a misunderstanding. There shall be peace once they comprehend that they are wrong,” Sicheng says softly, his tone is much lighter than you’d expect from a soldier. He seems delicate and fragile, yet he’s mastered martial arts since young age to the point he can blindfoldedly defeat his master. His strategy skills are excellent and he cares for his people so he’s a perfect general just like his father has always wanted him to be.

“Brother,” he bows in front of the Crown Prince and the other man follows as Yan An acknowledges their presence in the throne room.

“How was your journey, General?” he asks politely, formally like he should no matter how much it pains him to greet his younger brother so coldly after he hasn’t seen him for so long.

“Great, thank you. How is your fiancée? Are you treating her right?”

The older boy smiles. So typically Sicheng, always worrying about the ladies. Especially, since this one will save him from having to rule. The younger has never wanted the throne and the crown to himself. His brother has always known this but being born like they did, counsellors tend to choose sides: favouring either the older but bastard son or the true-blooded but younger prince.

“She hasn’t complained yet. You can see her at lunch.” Yan An promises, his smile faltering a little as he thinks about the princess who walks the hallways pridefully and alone, not caring about dangers at all. Her quiet shyness during their meals also comes to his mind. She rarely speaks up but when she does all the attention is on her. She’s smart, she’s good at board games but doesn’t want to win. During all the time he was watching her closely, the prince has come to the conclusion that she’s watching him too. The first words they have exchanged still echo in his ears: I feel sorry for you.

“I can’t wait to meet my soon-to-be sister-in-law, our future Queen. I heard the rumours about her. They say she’s more beautiful than all the stars of the sky.”

Yan An takes a deep breath as he recalls the princess’ appearance, her fluttering lashes, the black holes of her almond eyes, those rosy cheeks and pretty, shiny lips along with the thick blonde locks framing her heart-shaped, lovely face. She can most definitely be compared with the wonders of the celestial sphere.

“She is,” he agrees and wouldn’t dare to take his words back even when Sicheng uses this against him not much later.

“Princess Xiao, you are just as beautiful as my dear brother said,” he coos as he kisses her hand when they finally get to meet. The Crown Prince catches himself blushing when the girl’s curious, dark eyes wander to his face.

The coronation along with the wedding is held on the feast of the God of harvest. The palace is dressed in the colours of celebration: red and gold. Dragon patterns all around and the double xi character for happiness and richness. Chinese people are deeply religious people in the age of wars and death, afterlife is just as important as their life here so to hope for a better era, a great dynasty, they have to make sacrifices of all kinds in front of the statue of the gods on the marketplace. The golden temple behind them is full of royal guests and other influential people who are eager to see the new ruling couple.

One of the guests is the monarch of Tuans, King Mark himself and his delegacy. Their presence is both feared and admired. A lot of ladies gush and swoon over the famous king’s handsomeness while grieving families of dead soldiers blame him for their sufferings. However, no matter the rage and hate, to bring the ruthless war to an end is far more important for now, so nobody dares to make a move.

The ceremony is like every other, vows and speeches on the newly crowned king’s part while Cheng Xiao sits beside him in silence. Everybody in the temple bows before them, even the other king nods a little towards their direction. Yan An, now a legal King, steals a glance at his wife, the Queen and he isn’t surprised that her gaze is set on her brother and uncle instead of him. They are the family she never really knew and she will be separated from again from now on after all. He hates to think about how lonely she must feel. Surrounded by these walls and gold but all alone. Just like him.

Long ago, once he had a bird, a beautiful songbird. It was supposed to die because it fell out of the nest and broke a wing but he kept it and took care of it. He personally nursed it, fed it and helped it to learn how to fly. Yet, he cried so much when the bird finally flew away. But aren’t they all trapped birds in a golden cage? Even if he doesn’t know her that well, how would he feel if she just left? Like everybody around him.

“The time has come,” as a king, he declares. “Peace is here. Thanks to my marriage with the lovely Princess… now Queen Cheng Xiao, the two greatest kingdoms of China are now allies and we will fight side by side against any shared issue of ours but not against each other.”

The guests are clapping and there’s no faking in their relieved smiles. The war is over, they can finally breathe. However, there’s always somebody who isn’t quite satisfied and while the cheering crowd tastes the fine wine, a young, reckless soldier steps forward.

“You are not worthy of that seat, bastard,” the kingdom’s own second in command protests and everybody gasps in shock. Even the guards are taken aback, not knowing what to do but they point their weapons towards him to protect the king at any suspicious movement. It doesn’t help their case that the reckless warrior is a son of a nobleman, one that respects the sacred bone very much so it doesn’t take anybody by surprise that he wants the General as the king.

“Step down, Yifan. It’s an order,” Sicheng commands despite being younger and he stands up from his seat not far from the new king and queen. He keeps his hand hidden, probably ready to strike his friend if he threatens the newfound peace.

“Sorry but for the sake of true pure blood, I can’t let him rule,” the man shakes his head but starts to walk backwards without taking his eyes off of Yan An. His cruel, crazy smile seems out of place until a swoosh sound resonates through the temple and screams fill the void.

Only inches from the king’s face, his younger brother catches the flying arrow aiming to take his life. Sicheng’s often lovely face changes to the one he wears on battlefields, cold and distant, as he turns his head towards the traitor. He waves his men to stand by and not interfere while he throws away the arrow cutting his hand.

“We learned everything together. You have to be better to beat me,” he shouts after Yifan who is now in a circle of armed and masked men. One of whom tried to end the king’s life, a deadly crime.

“You two, get out of here,” the General looks at the royal couple one last time and then marches into the chaos of scared crowd with the king’s soldiers to seize the traitors. The Tuan guards join him but even though their number is greatly outnumber Yifan’s, the stubborn rebel doesn’t give up. They start to fire more arrows and on cue, the royals are ushered into safety.

It doesn’t matter how fast they move, farther and farther away from the temple, Yan An stops on his tracks when he notices the abrupt halt in the light steps following him. Looking back, he sees the Princess - the Queen, he has to remind himself - calming down a crying kid and searching for his parents in the midst of tossing, sweating mess of bodies. Her tiara is halfway down as her always perfect hair is tangled and falling in front of her face. She doesn’t pay attention to her surroundings so she isn’t aware of the archer and his arrow pointed at her fragile figure from afar.

They don’t know each other yet and Yan An knows there’s nobody a king should die for. But he isn’t only the ruler of his kingdom but also a husband and a honourable man. He can’t just watch her die.

“Cheng Xiao,” he cries out when the bow snaps and the metal is on its way to pierce through her heart. The girl looks up, startled. Maybe because she thought he left without her or because he called her by her name for the first time but she doesn’t move and Yan An doesn’t think when he hurries to her side.

He doesn’t feel the pain at first, it hits him only when he has fallen to his knees and blood paints his coronation outfit where the arrow hit him.

“Your Majesty,” she gasps in a panicky voice and hurries to help him. She’s looking around to find the attacker but there’s nobody on the rooftops, not anymore. He has probably already fled away. “Come on, let’s go,” she takes his arm and puts it around her shoulder not even giving him a chance to say no. She pulls him closer so she can help him carry his weight.

Because of the blood loss Yan An dizzily wonders how she can be so strong. While he is painfully aware that this is the closest they have ever been and what a pity that it happens like this. He’s dazed, his sight blurred and he’s sure that he has fainted a few times already when he wakes up from this nightmare.

The characteristic aroma of aloe vera and alcohol fills his nostrils but the sharp pain is gone. He feels numb yet he remembers the blood. Is he dead or dreaming? Both can be true if an angel like his wife looks at him with such saddened eyes.

“Your Majesty, you are awake! Uhm… sorry for my inappropriate behaviour but I had to cut your clothing so I can look at the wound and…” she’s rambling and takes her hands off the the herb leaves placed gently on the side of his ribcage. For somebody who should be used to being washed and dressed by maidens before rituals and ceremonies, he feels without the upper part of his formal attire because now, there are Cheng Xiao’s beautiful eyes on him. On his pale and weak body, one that shouldn’t be a king’s. Maybe Yifan’s right and Sicheng should rule instead. He’s more capable for sure and everyone would accept him as a rightful heir. But he’s doing this for his sake, so that his brother can have everything he can’t.

“Thank you,” he interrupts the bashful girl in a raspy voice, trying to sit up while looking around. Since he doesn’t recognise this dusty, old place, they are surely not in the palace. “Where are we?”

“In a pharmacy close to the temple. The owner helped me get you here. He’s gone to the palace to tell the General you are here,” Cheng Xiao answers putting one last layer of cream on his aching chest. Yan An exhales slowly as he watches her work.

“Where did you learned all this?” he asks curiously because he has never seen a royal know about such things.

“I wasn’t brought up as a princess, remember?” his wife reminds him with a soft smile and there’s something bittersweet in her tone. Her fingers don’t even tremble as she dress the wound and they brush against his delicate skin.

The king has to realize, again, that they don’t know each other at all. He knows it’s common with arranged marriages but he has never thought he would marry a stranger. If the princess hadn’t been lost all those years ago, they could have been raised together. They could have been friends. But what are they now?  

“You should tell me about it one day.”

“Maybe, I will,” she says but it sounds like never. Something nobody dares to tell a king. Yan An knows that he has to be an iron-handed monarch if he wants to keep his place, if he wants his people to respect him and his choices. However, he doesn’t want them to fear him and it’s an almost impossible thing to do if even his own wife doesn’t tell him the truth. Maybe he will never know who she is for real.

“You are bleeding, too,” he blurts out too lost in her pretty features while she helps him arrange the pillows behind his back. She’s so close, he can almost taste the salt of her (or maybe his) sweat and blood but her flowers scent is the strongest, enchanting him. The king finds himself mindlessly moving even closer and his thumb brushes over the tiny wound on her rosy cheek.

Cheng Xiao doesn’t move, doesn’t avert her eyes and he feels his blood burning his veins as the starry night is looking back at him.

“You stopped to help a little boy. Somebody who wasn’t even your people. Why?” he asks, curious. Pure kindness of a heart was such a rare thing to see these times but the queen seems to have this quality. Even her answers sound sincere:

“They are humans, neither my people, nor yours,” she claims, oddly believing in the power of individuals. She seems fragile but also strong at the same time, hopeful and hopeless, a mystery of full moons as he stares at her. A riddle he may never solve.

“Why did you save me?” she asks pleading, barely above a whisper yet it sounds like a cry out in the silence settled between them. It’s almost hypnotic, the intimate closeness of them and maybe between their immortal souls. too.

“You are my wife now, I have to protect you,” Yan An tells her, remembering his mother, a commoner artist’s words. She believed in goodwill and people and every year on his birthday when he could see her (until death did them apart), she told him to care about those who lean on him so in need, he can also lean on them. “But you saved me, too.”

“I barely did anything. The royal physician would have done much better job,” she protests but he shakes his head because he didn’t mean it like this.

“You could have left me there, on the square, but you didn’t.”

At that the queen turns her head to the side and walks away. As she stares out of the curtained window, she looks like the goddess of moon and Yan An is already dreaming when she whispers those fateful words: “Maybe I should have.”

But oh, the stars keep her secrets so well.