She had understood clearly what he meant from every sentence he had spoken. He wanted her to do the same that he had done to her, betray. He did speak or choose this marriage out of alliance but out of to plant a spy behind them, a daughter turned informant, he spoke of her as a tool – an instrument to be played, a key to be turned in a lock that would not open peace but will open conquest and chaos. And in that very process she would be a pawn in his game, whether she dies or survive, he didn't cared about it, he cared for only one thing that is wealth, throne and destruction of the enemy Empire.
'So this is why, not because I am your daughter, not because you worry about my life that I will lead from now on, but because I am the most convenient pair of eyes you can place inside Longlin.'
The realization settled within her mind with a remarkable calm, only certainty.
'Even now… on the day I leave this palace… the first thing you ask of me what not whether I will be safe in another country. But it is what I can bring back to you.'
'Fengyu never protected me, it never stood beside me when I needed it the most. When I was abandoned, none of you came… and now you ask for loyalty?' a faint amusement surfaced, 'How interesting.'
For the first time in many years, every lingering doubt quietly vanished quickly, there had never been a father waiting behind the throne, only a Emperor calculating the worth of a piece he had given to another empire to satisfy his greed for the throne.
'Father, you think me as your spy, you think of me as your instrument, your eyes in a foreign court, your whisper in an enemy's ear. But you never taught me survival. You taught me that thrones have no hearts, that the crowns cast no shadows, that a daughter is only as valuable as the use she provides, and so I will survive, but not for you, but for myself.'
She would not betray Longlin. Not because Longlin had earned her love, it had not, not yet, perhaps not ever—but because Longlin would be hers. Her home, her Empire, her throne to build or burn as she chose it, she would not poison her own well at the command of a man who had let her thirst for years. Fengyu had made her a pawn once. It would not make her a traitor twice.
The Emperor straightened further, if such a thing were possible, his moment of manufactured tenderness already started to fade, the mask of the sovereign sliding back into place like armor locking into position. He did not see the decision in her eyes, he had never learned to look.
"Then we understand each other very well, as expected from my blood." He said, leveling his voice in final.
Shayue replied calmly smiling, her voice steady, almost sincere, the voice of a daughter who had never learned to lie because she had never been given the truth behind the betrayal.
"We do, Your Majesty, of course we do," silence in her mind, where no emperor could reach, where no father had ever bothered to tread, she spoke only to herself.
'I understand you perfectly, and I am done being understood by men like you.'
The courtyard had fell into a deep silence after the emperor's earlier words, then his expression changed, his gazed slightly soft and sharp as he looked at Shayue.
"There is another matter I want to ask you Shayue."
Shayue lowered her eyes respectfully, "Yes? Your Majesty,"
The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back again, he came forward towards Shayue, he said lowering his voice, "My Daughter."
Shayue was still, the words struck in her mind harder than any command, she didn't expected this words to came from her father, ever in her life. She stared at him smiling without flinching even a bit. But beneath the silk sleeves her hands clenched harder.
'My Daughter, how many years have been passed since I have had those words? How many birthdays? How many ceremonies? How many disappointments? Just to hear it now, on this very day. Why?'
The very day she leaves this place, he had finally, spoke those words to her. Not because he suddenly remembered them or because he cared about her, but because she was finally useful to him.
In Shayue's eyes there was no shimmer of surprise or emotions, but remained a perfect composure. But within her heart there was a slight smirk that emerged.
'My Daughter? How generous of Your Majesty. After all these years, the title finally arrives. Unfortunately… it arrived too late.'
He finally spoke with a quieter tone, "Before you go… tell me, what do you need for this father to do for you, anything, my daughter?"
The question hung in the air like fragile and strange. The first time he had ever and the last time he would ever would. Shayue met his gaze. For a moment Shayue let him see her thoroughly, not as the Crown Princess, diplomat or the daughter had had failed to know, just a woman who had survived his indifference and built herself from his ruins.
"I have only one condition, Your Majesty," her voice without wavering with a silent look and sharp, she continued, "This Manor where I and my mother once lived, where I stand now—do not ever touch its edges, do not destroy this walls. Most importantly do not bring anyone here without letting me know. Let it stand as it is, untouched by court or crown, by memory or malice." She said while looking at him and his side, where the outsider was, the Empress, and the Emperor.
She stepped closer, her eyes unblinking, "Do this for her, My Mother, and if you do this for her–I will consider that you had done this for me."
The Emperor stared at her, something complicated. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately, then, slowly he nodded.
"It will be done."
He turned and walked away without another word, his robes disappearing beyond the courtyard arch, leaving her with the silence and the woman who still stood beside her. The smile on her face had changed into something else, which made her dangerous, but didn't dare to show it out.
--
The Empress watched him walk out, then, turned her head towards Shayue with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"Alone at last, Shayue," She said her voice honeyed and warm as though they were close, almost parental, "You have grown into such a composed young woman. I am sure your Mother would be proud."
Shayue's expression did not changed, "This subject is grateful for Your Highness's kind praise."
The empress circled her slowly, her motion deliberate, appraising, "Proud," she repeated, "And perhaps… relieved. To see her daughter is finally being placed where she belongs. A Crown Princess should have a crown, after all. Even if it sits upon foreign soil, it should know its worth."
"Every Empire has its own soil, Your Highness, in case you have forgot," Shayue replied,
"A flower that grows in one may wither in another, or thrive. The gardener does not decide it, the flower does."
The Empress's smile sharpened, just barely, "How philosophical, I had forgotten your tutors emphasized poetry alongside strategies. Don't they?"
"They emphasized survival. Poetry was… merely a byproduct."
The Empress stopped before her, close enough that their sleeves nearly touched,
"Survival. Yes, that is what concerns me, child. Longlin is not Fengyu. The winters there are harsher than Fengyu. The court… is less forgiving, and a young woman alone, without any relative or without any guidance—"
"I am not alone," Shayue interrupted her, with a respectful tone but unyielding,
"I carry Fengyu with me. And I carry myself. That is always been sufficient for me."
"Sufficient for survival?" her eyes flickered, "Perhaps, but for influence? For power? A woman in a foreign court needs more than pride, she needs… allies."
"Allies," Shayue repeated, tasting the word, "This subject understands the value of alliance more than anyone else. It is the foundation upon which empire stands, and falls."
A pause stretched between them, thin and humming. The empress reached out, her fingers brushing Shayue's crown with false tenderness,
"Your father believes you will serve Fengyu loyally. He believes blood binds where oaths fails." She leaned closer to her, her voice dropping into a whisper,
"But I know better than him, that blood is merely water under pressure, if flows where the cracks allows it to flow."
Shayue did not flinch, "Then this subject is fortunate," she said, her gaze unwavering.
"That this subject's veins carry more than blood, they carry memory, of every slight, of every silence, of every night spent learning that, the only loyalty that matters is the loyalty which one commands, not the one who gives their loyalty."
The Empress withdrew her hand, her smile finally cracking at the edges, "Careful, child. Such words sound like treason."
"Such words?" Shayue corrected, inclining her head with perfect grace, "sound like honesty, and honesty, Your Highness, is the only gift I have left to offer Fengyu, whether it is welcomed… that is not for this subject to decide."
The Empress stared at her for a long moment, the mask slipping further and further, revealing something cold and calculating beneath it, she laughed—a bright, brittle sound,
"Oh, Shayue, you were always too much like your mother. Strong. Stubborn. Destined to be… difficult."
"This subject thanks Your Highness for the comparison."
"Shayue," She murmured her name, "How fitting for a departing princess and the mother she never claimed." She titled her head, the gesture almost birdlike, predatory. "Tell me Shayue—do you truly believe walls of stone can outlast the will of an empire? Your little request is… touching, almost naive."
Shayue did not looked at her, she looks at the pillars of the courtyard, at the garden beyond where her mother's flowers still bloomed, at the home that had been her only sanctuary in a palace of wolves and snakes.
"Your Highness," she said softly, continuing, "this subject has learned that the empire takes what it wishes to get, destroys what it fears, and forgets what it cannot use, but some things…" she finally met her gaze steady as a blade, "—some things endure not because the empire does not understand their worth."
She smiled, and it was the smile of someone who had already left, whose heart had crossed borders, the Empress could not follow.
"Your Highness need not concern yourself with this subject's naivety. This subject has survived far worse than your concern, and this manor—" she glanced once more at the walls that held her mother's memory,
"It will only outlast us, both. Not because the Emperor wills it. But because I have made it so."
The Empress's smile faltered, she laughed again, hollow and bright.
To Be Continued...