It was a few days later, Çuiren stood by the Hall of Deliberation. She had been called early and had stood there for over an hour, as it was not her turn to enter. Every time someone passed her she greeted them with “May the Sun give you the most wonderful day, Your Highness” or “Your Imperial Highness, may I wish you have a splendid morning?” even if she was completely ignored.
She didn’t need to be very bright to understand that, though no one had told her anything, the heirs of the throne had been called together to discuss none other than her. Why else would she be asked to come so early in the morning? Not to mention, asked to go to the Imperial Palace. They certainly didn’t wish her to serve the Emperor, nor would they let her prepare for the Emperor’s arrival.
She had since long lost count of all the sons, nephews and brothers that walked past her. She only recognised a few of the younger generation, and knew those of the older generation were the honoured Elder Princes — the Emperor’s imperial brothers.
When two figures walked up the stairs, she curtsied. “May I wish you a—”
“Kneel.”
U’il-šanad was farther down the stairs, climbing them at a leisurely pace, with his hands behind his back and admiring the stars above. He looked very disinterested about this, and rather more like he might consider just turning back as he walked slowly in the chilly morning.
Hearing the command, he looked toward the entrance and saw the Crown Prince and one of his elder brothers stop in front of the girl.
Serving girls were seldom dressed in much and it was never truly warm. They were there to please the Princes and their dress had exotic elements.
Çuiren had yet to receive the position and her lessons were to ensure she could recite poetry and dance for the Highness who had chosen her. Or, in her case, for whom she had been chosen.
However, she still stood in the cool air in nothing to keep her warm, her abdomen and arms bare.
U’il-šanad clicked his tongue in surprise. Last time he had seen her, she had worn the garments similar to that of a maidservant, as was common among those yet to be trained serving girls.
He knew how long she had stood there, as she would have had to arrive before even the Emperor, and would be last to enter the hall, which was rather cold even in the height of summer, not to mention at the end of autumn. Her body would hurt and be stiff from the cold.
He increased his pace, impressed that Çuiren did indeed kneel without a word, before she put her hands on the stoneresting her forehead on the back of them as she prostrated. Yet he worried this action would cause her more harm than what the Crown Prince would dare to do at the moment.
If her beauty was ruined, she would be “useless goods”.
“Your Imperial Highness’ lowly slave wishes for the deities to guide Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince this wonderful autumn day and who have blessed me to see Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince. Your lowly slave will not forget this benevolence that the deities and the son of theirs have given me this splendid morning. Your lowly slave can now live joyfully for the rest of my life.”
Her voice, smooth like silk, could be heard throughout the courtyard and in the hall of reception. Even the Crown Prince who had continued walking came to a stop. The Imperial Bodyguards had to turn and look at the girl, dressed in nothing but soft silk in purple with gold accents.
Çuiren clenched her teeth, feeling her eyes tear up. She had given him the greatest greeting she could remember, and unbeknownst to her, the most appropriate one. No one had expected her to know the courtesy. She couldn’t rise until she was told to and to her frustration, the prince who had come with the Crown Prince snorted.
“I wish Your Highness a splendid morning,” she said, holding back a sob.
Even if she was a nameless, she had been told that everyone was treated well at the Palace. No one spoke of slaves being falsely accused, or how vicious rumours could be. No one spoke of the moods of the Princes, or how ruthless other slaves were.
No one had told her that her life was at the mercy of these superficial people.
Teacher Žul was cruel, U’il-šanad esteemed, the Emperor unreachable and…
She felt a cold touch on her arm and looked up, forgetting the freezing tears in her eyes.
“Stand up, Çui-fa.”
The voice was soft like velvet and filled with a gentleness that was hard to come by, yet it was firm enough to tell her that she had no choice in this matter.
She was about to hurriedly obey, but the Prince spoke again before she could.
“Take your time. Moving too quickly when you’re this stiff and cold cannot be good for you.”
Those golden eyes had a light curve to them as the Prince smiled reassuringly. He held her arms as she stood up.
How was she supposed to react to this situation? No one had taught her that yet. If anyone ever would.
“I…”
“May the Sun shine wisdom upon you and give you peace of mind.” U’il-šanad offered his greeting with a smile.
Çuiren looked down, as she couldn’t bow while the Prince held her arms. He was astonishingly strong despite his appearance.
“May the Sun bless Your Imperial Highness to have a splendid morning, followed by a wonderful day.”
U’il-šanad let go, before he removed his woollen coat and placed it over her shoulders, tying the belt for her to keep her warm.
“Father Emperor is not unreasonable.”
He only offered these words of comfort before he stepped into the hall as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet the guards followed him with their eyes, thinking about the rumour.
Who could consider none other than U’il-šanad the most esteemed person in the Palace of Peace and Hope, where the unmarried princes and their servants and slaves resided?
It was just…
U’il-šanad walked through the second entrance, and with a slow step he moved past his uncles and cousins toward the empty chair designated for the Ninth Blood Prince.
Because this was not being a formal discussion of court and not of national importance, each of the young princes wore gold, silver and jewellery. They were there in an official discussion, so no one would not make a show of power.
The sons of the Emperor all wore a kvan, one more lavish than the next.
However, the most lavish one was for the heir apparent and it was big enough to easily sit on the Crown Prince’s head. The rest of U’il-šanad’s cousins, too, wore head accessories, but they couldn’t quite make the same show of themselves as the Blood Princes and the Crown Prince.
The older generation of Princes, the Emperor’s brothers, didn’t flaunt their riches directly, but rather let their sons show it. So while they wore gold and their kvan they received in their youth, they dressed in a more simple manner.
U’il-šanad took this all in, as he gracefully moved through the hall.
As the youngest of the blood Princes, his seat was considerably closer to the Emperor than his cousins’.
The Crown Prince wore gold from top to bottom, with jewels and pearls sewn into his clothes, and bracelets and necklaces along the cuffs and collar.
U’il-šanad himself dressed more simply. Naturally, he, too, wore his kvan, and the maidservant had braided his hair, adding beaded ornaments and hair sticks. His draping robe nearly reached the floor and was embroidered with images of waves and fish on the indigo silk. Beneath, he wore a simple rose pink robe with pearl buttons halfway down his chest and a deep forest green satin belt topped by a silver cord belt, that accentuated his thin waist even with his loose draping robe. His necklace was simple, with only a single gem and some silver beads, and his earrings matched with embedded stones of amber.
On top of his head sat a silver kvan with a four-armed star and topaz.
His cousins studied him closely, as if trying to see if he truly was a ‘Prince’, while he with swaying hips, walked past his seat and up to the throne.
He lifted his robe, showing his slender ankles even through the boots he wore, and placed one knee to the stone floor. He bowed before he spoke with a soft voice, not quite sounding like a man’s.
“May the Sun wisdom upon His Imperial Majesty.” U’il-šanad then raised his gaze to look at the Emperor. “Good morning, Father Emperor. I see you are in good health.”