Once upon a time, there was a golden haired girl. She had a tiara on her head, a brother by her side and crystal jewels all over her body making her a valuable target for any enemy. A victim or merely a show-off prey, because the more gold meant the bigger price on her head. So she was sent into hiding, waiting to reveal herself when the right times comes. But she had enough of lazing around, soon she will take back what’s hers.

“Have you heard the gossips, Your Majesty?” Chenle pries quietly at the next big family dinner. Relatives all over the continent from different kingdoms came back to congratulate on the coronation of the new king and discuss the tasks he had in mind for them. But somewhere along the way in-between drinks and majestic meals, the conversation’s topic soon changed.

“What?” Yan An looks up from his plate searching for the eyes of his second cousin. The younger doesn’t look at him, instead he shares a meaningful look with his brother, Yukhei who continues with a nonchalant shrug:

“They say that the Tuans just bought an orphan girl to play the part. That she’s not the princess we have all been looking and waiting for.”

But yes, she is. The king argues silently. For him, she’s the one he searched for and didn’t even know. She was everything he ever wanted and more, a fair queen, a sincere but lovely woman and a passionate lover. He couldn’t help but fall for her. And the more times they spent together, the more he fell.

She’s still a mystery, an enigma nobody could ever solve. She’s quiet but observant, gives him good advice about not only household matters but politics, too. But sometimes, at night, she looks like the devil disguised as an angel with that fire burning in her eyes but he keeps letting her in to share a bed.  Sometimes nothing happens, they just talk but on other nights, when the moon is out, they make love and he kisses each of her scars while telling her how beautiful she is.

“Never speak about the Queen like that, you hear me?” he fumes even though he is very well aware that the younger royal only voiced out the worry of people. They love their queen very much and maybe that’s exactly why they don’t want to acknowledge that she came from a house that led numerous wars against them. Still these kind of talks can be harmful, so Yan An would rather not have Cheng Xiao hear about these.

Since that night, the awkward tension between them has gone and been replaced by a different atmosphere. One that’s filled with fleeting touches and stolen glances.

“But… don’t you see? She has been manipulating you,” Kun, one of his older relatives on a side-branch of Yan’s family tree, dares to add and everybody, even Sicheng eyes his reaction carefully. They all know what it means to have a puppet king controlled by a foreign queen. Maybe even the end of their kingdom.

“No, she hasn’t,” Yan An objects and prorogue this ridiculous conversation by saying the wine tastes bad and it took away his appetite. Somewhere far away, the Tuans might smile in satisfaction because he really has no idea what they plan for him.

As the Moon Parade is coming up, Yan An suggests going to her home kingdom for the celebrations. Lately, he has seen Cheng Xiao looking quite down, so melancholically sad, especially after she read her brother’s letters. It’s only natural that she misses him, a sibling she only got back now and also lost him to the other king pretty soon. He just wants to make his wife happy, he reasons when he announces the journey to the eastern shore and the palace physician also approves. Meiqi told him that the queen is in good enough health physically to bear a child despite having being malnourished during her teen years and the reason why she hasn’t conceived yet may be in her head. The change of atmosphere might help.

But the queen is quieter than usual as they approach the place she was born in. She has sorrowful grey nostalgia in her eyes as she stares out of the carriages’ window, looking around, mapping the scenery as if she has never seen it before. However, Yan An doesn’t doubt her, doesn’t even want to. She has been lived away for more than ten years after all, these forests must be foreign to her even if she once knew the sprouts.

“Your brother…” Yan An’s gentle voice breaks through the silence and draws her moon eyes to him. “You two are quite close, aren’t you?”

Such a strange thing to ask, some might say but in royal houses tainted by the hunger for power, brotherly love is so rare. Not to mention that in their case, the miracle of finding his little sister was quickly followed by marrying her off. It was like he only used her as a property but the loving smile she kept just for him didn’t make sense.

“Yes, we are,” she whispers into the awaiting space and unconsciously touches her wrist. Now it’s covered by her dress but they have spent together enough nights for the king to know that she has an ink spot-like scar there. “As a child, we played a lot in the gardens, just running around. I looked up to him, admired him but now we are both adults and we should stop playing hide-and-seek.”

That’s what you were doing? Hiding? Yan An wonders, marvelling at the lovely frame of her face. Of course, the courtesan house is the last place anybody would have searched for her. But… did it worth it?

The king brushes a thumb over his wife’s right cheek lovingly and she instantly leans into his touch, perfectly fitting like the yin to the yang. He almost makes the mistake of asking what it was like and how they found her but now and there it isn’t the time or place for questions like this.

“We are here,” the rider announces loudly as the horses halt and they make their way out of the carriage. The peasants welcome the royal couple with cheers.

Luckily, the reception is better than expected but they walk into the glorious palace with practiced smiles. When they are offered moonflowers in honour of the feast, Yan An takes both with a fond expression on his face and turns towards this beautifully dressed wife.

“May I?” he points at her hair that’s already decorated with diamonds and golden accerssories. What could a tiny white, trivial flower add to the sight? Still, she smiles, brighter than the Sun itself and nods.

Yan An’s fingers don’t shake anymore when he touches her. Yet, his breath still hitches when their eyes meet after he’s done with placing the flowers among her locks. The adornment she treasures the most out of all the jewels she wears.

The flowers are stepped on where they lay on the floor trashed and useless. Cheng Xiao is shoved to the ground as well while barbaric hands tear at her pretty outfit and the palace guards are nowhere to be found.

“Why can’t you just obey and do what you were ordered?” the man riots and the girl had always known that Mark’s uncle didn’t need much to snap.

Now, it seems like he certainly had enough of the games the courtesan played. Who did she think she was anyway? They had an agreement and if she didn’t keep her word and promise to fulfil her part of the deal, he might as well throw her into the dungeon she, as a slave, belongs. But he needed a plan, one that ensures that the reputation of the Tuan kingdom doesn’t get damaged. He wouldn’t want that merely because of a silly, silly girl. They can always make it seem like it was the Yans’ fault.  But at those times they lived in, even a king killing his wife wouldn’t have been obnoxious So who cares?

“You can’t even do that much! I have to take the matter into my own hands, you stupid . You would deserve to have your tongue cut off for your lies and that bastard you protect so much, he should have an arrow through his heart before you could break it,” he growls into her face with so much spite, it makes her nauseate. “I made sure that he will be dead by tomorrow. Then Yien will rule and I will let you rotten in the dungeons. But first I will make you watch your precious husband die. Slowly. Painfully.”

The man grabs her hair and yanks it so hard she has to grit her teeth not to scream. But she won’t because she doesn’t need help. She has never been that weak, innocent thing they thought her to be.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she glares at him just like a mad goddess full of fury and he doesn’t even feel the first stab, it happens so fast. He gasps and his grip turns into a desperate hold on her shoulders as he loses his balance. Blood already coats the girl’s hand scarlet red as she twists on the fancy hairpin, another gift from Yien, deep in his chest. Every tiny flick of her hand is emphasized by a word she hopes he will remember even in the afterlife. “I. Am. Your. Queen.”

She has fire in her eyes and a soul as black as the night. She’s the warrior now they raised up in the courtesan house. She’s like the man himself wanted her to be: a ruthless killer and she has become the ruin of him.

There’s still blood on her hands when the Tuan king finds her with a dead body at her legs. The guards following him draw their swords immediately but Mark stops them with the wave of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Cheng Xiao looks at him pleadingly, not being able to read in his masked expression but the king calmly offers her a handkerchief. It’s white and clean. May it be the symbol of forgiveness?

“He would have never stopped,” he sighs looking over his glassy eyed uncle who has always been obsessed with the idea of their golden age. Look where it took him: defeated by a girl he dismissed.

“I know,” she agrees with a sigh and gets onto her two feet. Her left cheek is angry red where the man hit her earlier and the blow left scars across the pearl skin due to his rings. It will be so much trouble to cover it with makeup.

“You did the right thing. I don’t want war or rebellion. These previous weeks have been tranquil, we didn’t have it that way for so long,” the king says knowing fully well that his uncle worshiped chaos in the name of greatness. He would have done anything to take the throne from the Yans. No wonder why he despised the fact that the match for the marriage seemed prosperous.

Silence has never felt so odd between them before but now, they both are immersed in their own thoughts that somehow shift into the same direction.

“Will you tell him?” Yien asks and the queen knows right away that it’s not about the uncle anymore. Memories of big, bright, hopeful eyes appear in her mind and her heart threatens to break if that fond look turns into a frown. However, lately even him, the oh so loving Yan An seemed suspicious of her and he has every reason to be doubtful.

“I should. Even if it makes him hate me.”

Mark chuckles lightly.

“I don’t think that could happen. But just know that you’re always welcomed here,” he promises as generous as always but his serenity is sincere. He thinks of himself as someone who can read others well and he saw how the Yan king looked at Cheng Xiao. It would take a lot of him to push her away. Especially now.

“I have missed you,” she confesses, almost tearing up. She looks more like the 6-years-old girl that lives in his memories than a queen with cranberry red blood on her hands. Her beautiful doe eyes bore into his with the same adoration they held all those years before.

“I know. I missed you too, my little Nightingale,” he smiles at her sweetly and dips down to press a feather-like kiss to her forehead. Siblings should stick together after all, don’t they?

Another king stands tall in an all blue outfit in front of the wide window of the shining palace. His hands are curled into fists by his side, the letter he got earlier teared apart and burnt by the candles he found in the room. Chaos would arise as soon as  its content got out and in this uncertain era, even a rumour would be enough to bring him doom. But what if it’s really nothing more than hearsay? Why should he believe somebody he has never spoken to? Well then why does he feel so unsure?

Maybe because the letter was right about a lot of things and suddenly everything makes sense. Still, he doesn’t want to believe it. Why would King Mark go through the trouble of paying for a high-level slave to marry him just to kill him? Why would he lie about his sister? But again it would explain a few things. For example, that mystery around her.

There’s no knock on the door, nor announcement, so he wouldn’t even heard the noises if he didn’t pay close attention. The girl comes from the shadows, like ghosts in old folktales but she’s real and solid like the marble she steps on.

“You are brave for coming here so boldly,” he speaks up firmly, not looking away from the window.

Nobody should disturb a king in his chambers without invitation. Nobody. So he tries to keep his tone cold but it sounds rehearsed instead. He doesn’t have to look, he has her portrayed in his head so detailed, he can literally imagine her standing in the corner in a dress fully black just as the night when there’s no moon up. Oh the irony.

Her long blonde hair falls onto her back and shoulder, the contrast so ethereal like a painting. Though, Yan An blames the gods that such beauty could even exist in human form. It’s weakening. Especially since she is here, it means the letter was right. Then why does he still has doubts?

He forces himself to stay put, accepting his fate but he has to ask that one tricky, heartbreaking question: “Are you here to kill me?”

The question takes Cheng Xiao by surprise and she almost slips. To the Hell with the slippery floors of these palaces. She tries hard not to tear her gaze away from his nostalgic form. He’s just standing there, not at all like a majestic king but a boy waiting for her next move. He doesn’t even try to defend himself or call the guards. Is it because he trusts her too much or because he’s okay with dying?

“Would you let me?” she asks fingers closing around the sin-tainted hairpin in her hand. It’s still wine red and sharp, ready to kill, yet her fingers tremble and is closing in discomfort.

There’s nobody around. It would be the perfect opportunity to fulfil her original purpose but she can’t. She cannot bring herself to do it even though she did the same thing with cold-blood earlier.

Although Yan An has the answer on the of his tongue, he doesn’t reply but the slope of his shoulders goes rigid as he turn around to face the sudden visitor. There she is: oh so beautiful and more dangerous than ever.

“Why now? You could have killed me dozens of times,” the king inquires further, seemingly cannot drop the topic until he gets his own answers. He’s eager to know what happened, even if he doesn’t dare to hope that the reply will satisfy him. Especially if they only shoot questions back at each other.

“How do you know about this?” the girl furrows her brows, taking a few careful step closer, idly looking around in the majestic guest room her brother had prepared for the Yan king. Since only a handful of people knew about the plan, she wants to know who ratted them out. And what if he knows more?

“I got a letter from your uncle…” he says letting out an awkward laugh, “But he isn’t really your uncle, is he?” Yan An corrects himself quickly, back straightening. His voice is suddenly cold, formal and Xiao flinches at the unfamiliarity of it.

“What did he tell you?” she’s ignoring his question. Again, and it makes the king sigh exasperatedly. Always those damn secrets. It’s getting tiring.

“Just that you are an impostor,” he sums up the content of the letter he had read more than four times before burning it. The words engraved themselves into his brain haunting him, mocking him. They never found the real lost princess, just picked one of the girls who looked like her and paid her to play the part, the letter said and he wondered how could he love a liar?

Cheng Xiao takes a breath of air sharply at the accusation as the king watches her closely, drinking in every feature and wondering whether her smiles were genuine at all.

“Is it true?” he can hear that goddamn hope in his voice and he curses himself for being weak and love? But what if she says no and he’s being paranoid for no reason?

However, the queen has that sad look in her pretty eyes, It’s unfair, nobody should look so unearthly beautiful if they are guilty as charged.

“No,” she answers finally and looks straight into his eyes, voice steady and sure but isn’t all courtesans trained actresses, professional liars? Maybe she faked the whole thing just to trick him into loving her, getting high on her kisses and intoxicated by her scent. He’s burning in the inside to believe her but how could he? Where are the facts and proofs? And why would her uncle lie then?

“But he didn’t know,” she adds at last, answering his last silent question but the past tense makes the boy furrow his brows in suspicion.

“Where is he now?”

Despite the nonchalant look on her face, silence tells it all and it shatters into pieces when she drops the bloody pin.

“He was the one who wanted you dead, I had to,” she starts explaining when the tension becomes too much and too heavy on their chest. She isn’t that well put together queen anymore, she seems rather desperate to confess her sins. “I never really intended on killing you after I got to know you. If I did, you would be dead already. I just wanted back what I was taken away.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the real princess but your uncle didn’t know and you went along with his crazy plan? Why would you hide in a courtesan house in the first place and why didn’t you just tell him you are the one? Why did you need me for getting back what was yours?” Yan An snaps at her, more confused than ever and he feels like yanking at his own hair in frustration. He should despise her for killing his relative since he shouldn’t love a killer after all. But it doesn’t matter at all because desperate times require desperate measures and everybody is a murderer on their own. He led a war against her kingdom that shed so much blood it could fill his bath. They are all monsters in the end.

According to King Mark, with the marriage offer they let him choose his own destiny. He could have rejected it and keep the rage and carnage going. But since he’s weak for young, pretty and innocent, his choice was obvious: he couldn’t say no to the lost and found princess who has been engaged with him since birth. He’s said to be a good man. He thinks he can save anyone but who will save him then? Will it be her?

“Once you asked me if I would tell you my story one day. I tell you now if you’re willing to listen,” she says slowly, hoping he would at least listen to her before kicking her out. He would have every right to do that and restart the war with their kingdom. Yet, he simply nods and ever so politely offers her a seat to take.

Cheng Xiao bows and sits on the sofa. Every movement of hers is tentative and respectful, with no intention to invade his place or offend him, so she doesn’t sit too close or too far. Still, it feels like they are strangers again.

“He wasn’t my uncle because I’m not the late king’s daughter,” she confesses the secret only a few people knew in the court. Affairs aren’t unusual in their class, but women keeping company for themselves seems a much more despicable thing rather than when men do the same. “But don’t worry, the queen was really my mother so it makes me a princess. I got my hair from her, Yien as well. Also, we both have a birthmark on our wrists here. That’s how he knew I’m really his sister,” she adds and to prove herself, she rolls up the sleeves of her dress to reveal her bare wrist. Even though she knows he has already seen it, he never asked what it is or why she keeps it hidden sometimes. But if it was the proof, wouldn’t it be the best to let the world see? What is she afraid of?

“I was never really lost, I was just in hiding,” the girl continues, gaze filled with nostalgia drifting afar. “When the rebellion broke out, a maid rescued me at my mother’s request. She took me to the courtesan house of Jianfeng because she knew the owner and paid him a lot of gold to keep my secret and train me. His job was to teach me how to protect myself until the time comes. So when Yien’s uncle came to get a girl to kill the Crown Prince, we knew my time is close but I couldn’t reveal myself, not until I was sure he or other traitors wouldn’t kill me if he knew the truth.”

“Why would he have done that?” Yan An suddenly interrupts her, confusion colouring his strict expression.

“Like I said: I’m not his brother’s child so I’m basically a danger to their bloodline if I claim the throne after Yien’s hopefully very far future death.”

“Alright, I get it,” the king nods and he really does but the little pieces still don’t make up the big picture. It seems too much work just to get him killed. “But… wouldn’t it have been easier to pay for an assassin to kill me rather than going through all this procedure to find somebody to marry me?”

Cheng Xiao gulps and looks at him sharply. It’s a warning look, the one that says he doesn’t want to hear the answer but he doesn’t take the question back. So she sighs.

“I think you know the answer already. If people believe that I’m pregnant with the king’s child, both kingdoms can be ruled by the Tuans.”

“Of course, it’s always about that damned crown,” the boy hisses looking wounded as if the words hurt him physically. This time, when he looks at her, he’s angrier than ever. Disappointment glowing in his eyes like never before and it’s a scary look on him. It might be the first time when the queen is afraid of him. “Did you feel anything for me or was it all just part of the plan, to bear a king’s child?”

The blame burns and she retorts with equally hurtful words:

“And did you? Or you just wanted to become a king as soon as possible so you were okay with the first princess thrown at you?”

Yan An’s jaw tightens but he knows two can play this game.

“Well, somebody has to rule,” he says harshly because he won’t say sorry for doing the right thing no matter how selfish it sounds.

“And somebody has to fight for what they have,” the ex-courtesan argues, tone just as rigid.

They stare at each other, flames in their eyes, hearts beating fiercely and then the queen stands up. It happens so fast: she hears the movement of shuffling before she hears the bow’s snap and she turns, quickly like lightning and throws a small dagger, hidden under her sleeve, towards the unwanted visitor. It hits the masked figure straight in the chest and blood bubbles up from the dark haired girl’s mouth as she drops down dead. It’s been a while she had to use her skills but her aim is deathly, they used to say. It doesn’t look like it changed.

Cheng Xiao remembers the girl with glazy eyes from the courtesan house, always quiet and observant, great in archery but she also remembers the uncle’s words about making sure to end this. Of course, he didn’t do half work, he didn’t pay for only her to do the job. This is the reason why she doesn’t feel regret, only pity… and pain. A pain so awful that it makes her grasp and losing balance as her knees go out under her. It’s only then when she looks down on her own chest, staring at the dark dress getting darker and darker each passing second. The blood is like a waterfall going down, down, down and she feels like drowning.

“Xiao!” the king cries out in panic and crouches down beside her. With a hand holding her back, the other tries to suppress the bleeding from the fresh wound. “Somebody help!”

Even in the haze of pain, the girl feels warm all over. It’s not the first time he called her that but she considers herself lucky to be able to hear it again.

She coughs a little and her voice becomes raspy when she opens to speak. “They won’t come. I sent them away.”

The arrow just above her heart makes it hard for her to breathe and she’s grabbing on her chest to ease the sore but it’s like swimming against the current. Beyond reason.

“Ssh don’t talk, it’s alright. I will get help,” Yan An makes another promise he probably can’t keep but he cannot just sit and wait. He’s holding her close not wanting to let go and the frustration of his helplessness hits him hard. What’s the point of being a monarch if you can’t save those you care about?

“I love you,” Cheng Xiao forces out desperately, not to run out of time. She can barely keep her eyes open and her trembling fingers are closing around the king’s shirt as if he was her only anchor. Her blood-covered lips are quivering as she’s confessing. “You should know… It was a-all real. I loved you from the day y-you saved me. We are even now.”

She touches his face lovingly, a sad smile forming on her pretty features but instead of goosebumps, she’s only leaving bloody handprints behind.

“No. Don’t say it like you are saying goodbye,” the king, acting like a lovesick boy, can only protest and shake his head as he pulls her closer. No, it can’t be, it can’t end like this. There are still so many things left unsaid between them. “Please, don’t leave me. Not yet. I love you,” he whispers it like a prayer, kissing the words into her sweaty skin.

Maybe he has always loved her. The girl he was supposed to marry. But then he met her, the shy yet brave princess and when he fell, he fell hard. He knew it’s love when nothing could come between them anymore. When he read that letter and didn’t care who she was. For him, title doesn’t matter. She could be a queen, a courtesan or a commoner, he would love her the same.

“We are more alike than we originally thought, Your Majesty, we both have scars people can’t see,” Cheng Xiao mutters with her last breath hitting his cheek and then her lashes flutter closed. Darkness welcomes her with open arms as she loses consciousness, falling limply into the arms of the man she loved in secret but oh so dearly.

It’s a rare sight. The two kings in the same room, silent, waiting. Everything smells like herbs, even the heady air around them and it darkens the gloomy atmosphere even more until Yien can’t take it anymore.

“How is she?” he asks quietly but with loud concern. Without their crowns, they are just two young men who gave up a lot and lost even more in the process. Neither of them is ready to lose another loved one and nothing has ever brought the two kingdoms closer than their love for the same girl.

“According to the physician, it will take time but she’ll recover,” Yan An nods towards him, momentarily looking away from the unconscious girl lying on the cosy bedding. If there wasn’t a bandage on her chest, it would look like she’s only sleeping. Or hiding like summer’s beauty, the flowers, during the harsh, ice-cold winter.

“She is a survivor,” Yien notes relieved and turns to the younger king, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take good care of my sister or I’m going to change my mind and agree with my uncle about killing you.”

He’s talking threateningly yet it feels like he’s giving his blessing and not only as the king of his country but also, as Cheng Xiao’s brother. It makes Yan An smile.

“We will take care of each other,” he promises and doesn’t let go of her hand.

Never again.

A year later, the Queen gives birth to a healthy son, the rightful heir of both Yan and the heirless Tuan throne. It takes almost two decades but with his reign, the era of sixteen kingdoms is coming to an end and they welcome the dawn of a new age. May it bring peace finally.

History books will remember the rule of Yan Yalun as one of the most flourishing era of China and the monument he built for his parents will make sure that people never forget: true love conquers all even under the weight of the crown.