That night, after Suyi had spoken for the first time since entering The Western Empire, while laying on her side and facing the dresser of the so-called chamber, a sudden creeping emotion began to steadily wrap its fingers around her throat. As if slowly coming from behind. A nightmare where she wouldn’t be allowed to move a muscle, paralyzed after bitten by a poisonous snake. The tightening feeling one received when the body tried to send a warning. It barged in like an unwanted guest, leaving a foot between the doorway and forcing its way in. Suyi had forgotten how it felt to feel so severely. Happy or sad—fearful or brave.

  Wary should do just fine to describe. Wary is what she felt, above anything else. For a brief moment Suyi had felt safe enough to reveal her most well kept secret in front of Moon Dae. Perhaps it was the way she’d come to feel quite comfortable in his company, enough to lower her shield just enough to let those words slip out. All those weeks of silently staying beside him felt as if she had gained a new friend—although one-sided. The way those paintings were created became more and more fascinating to her.

  Which led to Suyi now chewing the inside of her cheek, the wariness turning into fear. Had she actually come to accept her new purpose as it did not require the traditional obligations of a concubine? No, not possible. One matter remained certain, however, which was that she’d never let those guarded shields down again. Not by accident and not for anyone. There would be no reality where she could ever refer to Moon Dae as a friend. The thought itself childish. And she would never be one of those people who could afford such simpleminded hopes and wishes. Perhaps she had been blindsided because of the peaceful days for a moment, as useless as that would be.

  Suyi tightened her fists against the chest to calm down, wondering what would happen to her now if The Third Prince decided to tell on her. Even if Moon Dae spoke to no one, who’s to say he wasn’t keeping a secret or two of his own. Besides, it wasn’t like she planned on keeping silent forever. It had to come out one way or another. Even though she hadn’t learned nearly enough to excuse her from the accusations of being labeled as deceptive—treacherous—sneaky and disloyal.

  After all, she would always be nothing more than disposable goods to all of them, as her attentive observations had revealed, there were those inside the palace who hoped for her quick fall, thinking she was a disgrace on the entirety of The Western Empire, although their identities stayed unmasked.

  And thus came the next day. Suyi had hardly slept through the night with dark circles forming beneath the swollen eyes as proof. She stood behind the sliding doors as usual and took in a deep breath as her escorts slid them open. Ready to face the consequences of her actions.

  However, something had changed. A small, yet drastic difference in Moon Dae's never changing chamber— a clear path created from the entrance straight on the right side of the hardwood table, as if meant solely for her. Suyi's eyebrows raised in sheer unexpected surprise before she stiffly bowed and entered, this time without a worry of tarnishing nor needing to hop like playing a game of avoiding traps.

  Suyi even managed to kneel down comfortably, finally on the same level with Moon Dae, as odd as it felt. He looked different from that point of view. Somewhat soft features, no hard edges on his face. Him and Moon Kian shared some features such as their long silky dark hair and the cat-like sharp line extending on the outer corner of their wide eyes, but where Kian’s features were more mature, Dae’s were boyish. A gentle soul. Once again Suyi had to question why would anyone dare to say a bad word about him. She couldn’t fathom.

  Before meeting him with only rumors to go off of, Suyi had expected to come face to face with a complete tyrant who’d boss the servants around through each day, inconveniencing them to the point of annoyance—when in reality he wouldn’t talk to any of them. Never demanded a single thing nor made their day harder throwing tantrums over pointless matters. In fact, The Third Prince Moon Dae must’ve probably been the easiest Royalty to serve, as the servants skipped many steps in customs which they’d never think of daring to do with anyone else. Moon Dae made their job easier, if anything.

  He simply did nothing except paint, which anyone could see he enjoyed the most.

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  Thus Suyi slowly began to despise those who spoke ill of him. And it was the first time she had ever met someone worth caring for in that wretched and flawed world they lived in.

  Being escorted back to their shared chamber by two maids along the raised wooden walkways, the roof of the houses extending over and gifting shelter, Suyi enjoyed the mist of the heavy rain pouring down from those darkened clouds foretelling the possible thunderstorm approaching. She did not notice The Second Prince, Moon Kian, beneath a garden pavilion in the middle of the carefully kept courtyard. Sitting on a chair with a game of Go now interrupted, leaving the opponent waiting for The Second Prince’s response to what he thought could’ve finally sealed a killer move, oblivious to the fact that he’d already been losing for the fourth time in a row.

  It had been two weeks since Moon Kian last was able to steal a glance of the forbidden Goddess fish. A fleeting moment. Whenever her presence graced his own from a distance no matter how far, he’d drop everything and let the moment linger as long as it preserved.

  What an odd day it truly had been, when the letter sent from The Eastern Empire had reached them. Moon Kian heard the contents of the letter as Emperor Moon’s adviser read it out loud, shocked beyond but not as much as his father who flipped the tables and all their contents over, fuming from anger and shouting spitting insults like an animal in rabies. In that moment, Kian became certain of the fact that each and every person being transported through the two lands were going to die once reaching their palace— even the unfortunate woman who’d been sent there to serve as his concubine, originally.

  At first, Emperor Moon had ordered the sold souls to be kept in the prison dungeon, tortured, letting them slowly fade away on their own until reminded of them a couple of months later. The ruthless man had gone as far as to forget their whole entire existence. Moon Kian heard many of those people died during, and each time he tried to bring the conversation to his father, he’d lash out in rage with no limits. Known to be hot-tempered and uncontrollable if pushed over the very, very thin line. And by the time a higher member of the counseling brought those poor people up in a conversation, Kian assumed they had all passed away by that point.

  Emperor Moon ordered the woman to be retrieved, assuming a corpse to be presented, pleased with the thought that he could then simply respond to Emperor Ming's letter with the unfortunate news of his little gift not making it through the harsh conditions of a long travel. A minor convenient white lie. Not expecting her to still be alive.

  However, The Second Prince took it upon himself to retrieve the woman, not trusting any employee alone neither letting his father know he had accompanied the servants beneath the grounds. He forced the two palace employees to take an oath on their own life not to tattle— or else.

  Finding out the woman had survived the harsh conditions, the first emotion he felt was a sense of relief, although it wouldn't change the outcome. Upon reaching an arm to catch the woman from falling, her long black hair sliding behind and revealing herself for The Second Prince to witness, he knew.

  Moon Kian hated the thought that an innocent person was sent there with him in mind only to then face The Emperor’s wrath. He had to think of something. Anything.

  He felt the need to risk being punished—for even The Emperor’s own family would not be safe from his brutal ways. Knowing the woman’s future wasn’t secured and she'd soon be killed either way.

  As soon as their eyes met, he knew. Yet equally as much Kian knew she was not meant for him— for he would now have to watch her die right in front of him after brought to his father. Powerless as The Emperor would lash out his anger. All Moon Kian could do was kneel on that velvet carpet in the grand hall and watch as she had been forcefully shoved to kneel in front of The Emperor.

  Waiting for his father’s words of awaiting execution.

  Yet instead, The Emperor decided to use her as a petty message.

  The outcome surprised Kian, as an understatement. A rush of relief gushed through his entire body, washing over.

  Despite the fact she still wouldn’t belong to him.

  Not to be kept as possession. She wasn’t an object, nor a pawn in a decades long quarrel. From the very moment he held her, Kian felt an overwhelming need to keep her safe. Prolonging the meeting with his father, ordering her to be bathed and dressed, meanwhile trying to come up with anything he could do. It was those eyes which were a mirror to a soul that had endured the entirety for far too long. And if her being alive meant she must become The Third Prince’s concubine instead, Kian couldn’t think of a safer spot inside the palace since not many cared to bother much with the outcast.

  Thus, at the very least, Moon Kian could spend his days admiring from afar. After all, beside him she would've suffered greatly.

  It was better this way.

  He could make sure she had everything he could ever offer in secret.

  Make sure she had it all.

  Starting from a name of her own.

  ─?~???~?─