THE EMPEROR'S BRIDE
Caylen McQueen
One
In the idyllic village of Hépíng, it was a day like any other. Farmers were busy in their unspoilt fields, sunlight poured across distant rice terraces, and Shuchun Jun ambled to the village well, as she did on every other morning. When her oversized bucket crashed into the pit of water, she had to use both hands to haul it back up. It wasn't easy, but the job had always been hers, so she never complained. With a grunt, she lifted the brimming bucket from the well, lowered it to the ground, and wiped the sweat from her brow. The worst part was over.
Jun paused to soak in her surroundings. In twenty years, nothing had changed. Every house was the same, every field was the same, and even every resident was the same—excluding the few babies who had been born since then. Her beloved Hépíng was a tranquil utopia stuck in time.
Until the motocarriage roared into the village, disrupting their usual peace.
Jun's eyes narrowed when she saw the vehicle approaching. Using both hands, she raised her bucket and waddled forward, closing some distance between herself and the unusual conveyance. Like most in her tiny village, it was her first time seeing a vehicle that didn't need horses or mules to move it. The children were especially thrilled by the motocarriage's arrival. Innocent excitement flooded the faces of the youthful horde that skipped toward the incoming carriage. When the vehicle stopped, the whooping children swarmed around it. One overzealous boy even smacked the side of the motocarriage with a large, wobbly stick.
At first, Jun assumed the new arrival was a peddler. Sometimes—but not often—someone would come from one of the nearby cities to barter with the rurals. However, when she saw the uniformed officers climb down from the motocarriage's interior, Jun knew she was wrong.
And her heart stopped.
She was always afraid this day would come.
Abandoning her bucket and raising the hem of her skirt, Jun raced back to her mother's house. On her way back, she thought she saw one of the officers glancing in her direction, so she squatted behind a cow and waited for him to direct his attention elsewhere. When both officers walked away, Jun's sprint continued. Her worn slippers swished through the too-tall grass as she hurried to her destination.
When she burst through the door, she was practically in tears. Gasping for breath, she ran into her mother's room and picked up a pair of shears, which were usually used for trimming sheep wool. Today, she was going to use them to lop off her hair. As the mouth of the shears crept toward her slick black locks, her mother raced into the room with a shriek.
“Jun!” her mother cried. “Jun, don't cut your hair! Don't you dare cut off your beautiful hair! I swear, if you make so much as one snip, I'll disown you!”
“But mother, I--”
“No!” Shuchun Bao interrupted. She stomped to her daughter's side and wagged a bony finger under the girl's panicked face. “We've talked about this, Jun! And we always knew this day might come, didn't we? I know you're afraid, but this is an amazing opportunity for both of us! If you were Chao's daughter, you wouldn't stand a chance, but look at you! You're so beautiful. Now it's time to put this beauty to good use. There has to be a reason you've been blessed with this face.” Bao wrenched the shears from her daughter's trembling fingers. “I can already imagine it... my daughter as the emperor's wife!”
“The emperor's seventh wife...” Jun added under her breath. The only thing worse than marrying an old man was sharing an old man.
“Come.” Bao seized her daughter's shoulders and steered her in the direction of the bed. “Before the emperor's men arrive, let's get you prepared.”
As her mother shoved her onto the bed, Jun longingly eyed the shears. Everyone knew what the emperor wanted in a bride: youth, a diminutive frame, willowy limbs, pale skin, and long, flowing hair. The long hair was especially important to him. By cutting off her hair, Jun could have made herself significantly less appealing. Her mother's intervention brought her one step closer to her very worst nightmare.
It had been five years since Emperor Ju-long chose a new wife. Every so often, he scoured his nation to find its unparalleled beauties. All women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one were eligible, but only the prettiest girls were brought before him. In Hépíng, there were six girls in the appropriate age range, and Jun was arguably the prettiest. In another year, she would have been too old. The emperor's timing was truly terrible.
“Why did this have to happen now?” she hissed to herself.
“Don't complain!” Bao sat behind her daughter and dragged a comb through her glossy black locks. “This could be the greatest day of your life!”
“But mother...” Jun winced when her mother's brush ran into a particularly pesky tangle. “If I'm chosen, you'll never see me again. I won't be permitted to visit you... it will be as if you never existed! Are you really alright with that? Because I'm not alright with that! Hépíng is my home! I love it here!”
When her daughter's complaints didn't cease, Bao smacked the top of Jun's head with the comb. “If you were chosen, it would be the world's greatest honor! It would be my greatest honor! How can you not see that?”
“But I--”
“No!” Bao shouted. She wouldn't tolerate another word from her willful daughter. “You're acting as if you've already been chosen, Jun! Your panic is premature. You're beautiful, of course, but you'll have a lot of competition. It's far too soon to start planning your life as the empress, dear.”
Bao sat in front of Jun and applied a bit of rouge to her cheeks and lips. Then she tore off her daughter's old shirt and replaced it with one of fine blue silk, which was easily the most expensive garment in her entire wardrobe. They didn't have any decent shoes between them, so her daughter's old slippers had to suffice. Fortunately, the hem of Jun's skirt was long enough to conceal them.
When they were ready, Bao pushed her daughter through the door and into the lineup of eligible young women from the village of Hépíng. The emperor's officers were to make the first cut. They went down the line, assessing the women one by one.
“This one's too short. She looks like a child,” one of the officers unabashedly shared his opinion of the first woman.
“The emperor might appreciate her youthful face, though.”
“No. Her cheeks are chubby. He won't like it.” The officer roughly shoved her out of the lineup, and the young woman ran back to her mother's side. Jun envied the girl, even though the officers' opinions had likely mortified her.
“This one has broad shoulders,” one of the officers said as he pushed another young woman back to her parents.
“This one has small eyes. Even worse, she looks like a boy,” the second officer said, rejecting yet another candidate.
When they got to the fourth girl, Wen, both officers paused. Jun had known Wen since they were children, and while they were generally regarded as some of the prettiest young women in the village, Wen was wrinkling her nose in an attempt to look less attractive. The officers must have seen through the ruse, because after a short conference, they shoved Wen in the direction of the motocarriage and forced her to climb aboard.
After passing on the fifth girl, they finally turned their attention to Jun, whose eyes were downcast and sullen. One of the guards grabbed her cheeks and forced her to look up, then he roughly turned her head left and right, checking for flaws. Satisfied, he said to his companion, “This one's good,” then he pushed her toward the carriage. Before she was tossed inside, she glanced back at her mother, who looked every bit as proud as Jun looked horrified.
Jun sat next to Wen, who babbled reassuringly, “This is an honor... a great honor... to be picked to stand before the emperor. We should be happy!”
<
br /> “But you're not happy, are you?” Jun whispered to Wen as the emperor's officers climbed in after them.
“N-no,” Wen murmured. “I mean... yes! I am happy. Every girl dreams of this, right? Wouldn't anyone be thrilled to marry the emperor?”
Jun slowly shook her head. Once upon a time, Emperor Ju-long might have been considered a catch, but the man was approaching seventy. Even if he was one of the richest men in the world, Jun couldn't imagine being the seventh wife of a man whose appeal had long since vanished. She needed her freedom.
“If we're not chosen, are you taking us home? Or do we have a find a way back to our village on our own?” Wen's question was directed at the men who rode with them, but neither of them spoke. As high-ranking officers of the emperor's army, they far outranked the village girls sitting across from them. Wen's low social status meant she was unworthy of an answer. To the officers, conversing with village girls was no better than conversing with cattle.
Of course, if one of them was chosen as the next empress, that would change overnight.
“I'm scared, Jun,” Wen whimpered as her head landed on her friend's tense shoulder.
“Me too.”
“You're prettier than me,” Wen claimed. “For the first time in my life, I'm glad you're prettier than me.”
“I'm not prettier than you!” Jun objected, even though it was probably true. Even the village idiot Chen, who was half-blind and probably senile, often commented on her beauty. At the moment, however, Jun didn't feel especially blessed by her good looks. In fact, as the motocarriage rolled closer and closer to the capital, her comely face was starting to feel like a curse.
After a three hour ride, they finally reached the palace. The emperor's grand abode was a marriage of Eastern and Western architecture. When Jun climbed out of the motocarriage, the first things that caught her eye were the palace's colorful red pillars and spiral dragon statues. Beyond the initial complex, there was a castle inspired by medieval Englund, complete with flying buttresses, towers, and a wrought iron gate. Despite being traditional, the emperor didn't restrict himself to a single style. He appreciated a variety of art and architecture in the same way he appreciated a variety of women.
Jun and Wen were escorted to a small, empty room, where they were asked to wait until further notice. A maid served tea, and a second servant brought a new pair of sandals for Jun. She wasn't allowed to stand in front of the emperor in such shabby shoes; it would have been an insult to His Lordship. As the servants absconded with her filthy slippers, Jun tried to ask if they would ever be returned, but neither of them had an answer for her. She assumed her slippers were forever lost.
An hour after tea, Jun and Wen were herded into the courtyard with at least a hundred other young women, who were asked to stand in a line. To Jun's surprise, they were to be evaluated by Empress Lin, the emperor's first wife. Before the empress arrived, they were coached by a stout old man whose hair had been styled in an unusually high top knot.
“If you are lucky enough to speak to the empress or the emperor, never refer to yourself in the first person!” The man strolled up and down the line as he advised the ladies. “For example, if you wanted to say you honor me, that would be considered incorrect. Instead, you should say, you honor this one or you honor your servant.”
Jun could feel herself getting nauseous as she listened to his speech.
“And,” he continued, “you should never look them in the eye. Should you run into one of the emperor's sons or daughters, the same goes for them. None of you are worthy to meet their gaze. If you fail to comply, you will be tossed out of the palace immediately, and there will be no one to escort you home. Do you understand?”
The girls mumbled various versions of “we understand” and “yes, sir” in unison.
When the empress arrived, Jun was tempted to hold her breath. The emperor's first wife was an austere, regal, finely-dressed woman in her mid-sixties. Her hair was mostly gray and her face was heavily painted, as if she was desperate to hold onto her last shred of beauty. It was the empress' job to make the final cut. She would tell the girls to go left—where they would ultimately meet the emperor. Or she would tell them to go right—where they would leave the palace forever.
As the first girl approached and bowed, the empress immediately turned up her nose. “Right.”
The second girl barely took two steps forward before the word rang out again. “Right.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
The sixth girl finally gave her pause. The empress raised a monocle to her eye as she studied the young woman from head to toe. Her eyebrow twitched with amusement when she finally said, “Left.”
Wen and Jun were somewhere in the middle of the line, so they waited quite awhile before it was finally their turn.
“Left. Right. Right. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left.” Jun closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself elsewhere. She imagined herself in a field of flowers, spinning in circles as silken petals swirled around her ankles. She imagined herself in front of a handsome beau, who handed her a hand-picked bouquet with a smile on his lips. She imagined herself--
“Jun!” Wen's sharp voice interrupted her reverie. “Jun... it's almost our turn! Oh god, Jun! Forget what I said about this being an honor! I don't want to marry an old man! Even if it means becoming the next empress, I don't want--”
“Shh!” Jun quietly hushed her. “You don't want the empress to hear you, do you?”
Wen's worries were for naught, because as soon as the empress laid eyes on her, she barked, “Right.” Wen was so relieved by the verdict that her eyes momentarily rolled back in her head. As she watched her friend shuffle through the door on the right, Jun envied her, and she prayed she would be the next one to follow her out.
However, when Empress Lin laid eyes on Jun, a tiny smile tipped her lips. In fact, it was her first smile of the day. She confidently raised her chin and announced, in a clear voice, “Left.”
As Jun exited through the door on the left, her shoulders started to fall—until a woman screamed, “Mind your posture!” Her critic was none other the Empress Lu, the emperor's second wife, who happened to be his favorite. She instructed Jun to kneel on a plush yellow pillow and wait for the emperor's arrival.
Only twenty-seven girls passed Empress Lin's secondary test. Now that Jun was without a friend, nerves gripped her stomach even harder. If Wen was still at her side, she might have felt a bit less uneasy. But she was alone now. There were only unfamiliar faces surrounding her. Countless plumes of incense billowed around the room. There was so much smoke, it made Jun's eyes burn. If anyone asked why she was on the verge of tears, she would use the incense as an excuse.
At long last, Emperor Ju-long finally appeared. He had a large, round stomach, which he cradled with both hands. His head was completely bald, and an impressive silver mustache dangled from his upper lip. As he walked past the chosen few, he paused briefly in front of each one. He studied some women longer than others, and unless it was her imagination, he watched Jun longer than most.
After he had a chance to see them all, the emperor exclaimed, “Very good! Very good indeed! I've never seen a lovelier crop of ladies. You are all so beautiful. I would marry all twenty-seven of you if I thought I could feed you!” Though he chuckled at his joke, no one else laughed. His comment was met with an especially stony stare from his second wife, who was spoiled by special treatment.
“I think I know who I want,” the emperor said as he paused in front of an eighteen-year-old girl with a cherub's face. “You.”
The girl looked mortified. Nevertheless, she squeaked, “You... y-you honor your subject, Exalted One.”
“First, let me see your feet,” the emperor demanded. “Lose your shoe and present your toes to me.”
Though it was an awkward request, the terrified girl complied. She shifted on her pillow, removed her slipper, and slowly raised her foot.
The
emperor's brow was creased by the sight of it. The deep sneer on his nose would have made anyone think he was looking at something repulsive. “Awful,” he croaked. “Awful awful awful. You have the feet of a man... and a farmer, no less. In no way are these the delicate feet of my future wife!” To his first wife, he grumbled, “Why did you not check their feet?”
“I'm sorry, Your Grace,” Empress Lin said with an apologetic bow. “I'm deeply, truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Oh well. It matters not. I'll go with my second choice.” The emperor moved down the line of women and stopped in front of Jun. “You.”
Jun said nothing. She kept her eyes on the ground, because she wasn't supposed to look directly at him.
“Well, girl?” the emperor prompted her. “Do you have nothing to say?”
Jun's voice crackled as she repeated the words of the girl who was selected before her. “You honor your servant.”
“Present your feet.”
Jun felt dizzy when she slipped off the sandal. As she presented her foot, she made eye contact with the girl who knelt beside her. If the girl's frown was any indication, she pitied her.
“Now these are some beautiful feet!” Emperor Ju-long rubbed his belly as he exploded with joy. “Lin... later on, you must take some time to observe this goddess' feet. They are an unbelievably perfect pair. Next time, you'll know what to look for.”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” the empress said with a bow. “It shall be done.”
“Tell me...” Emperor Ju-long offered a hand to Jun, which she accepted with great reluctance. As he hoisted her to her feet—which were improbably perfect, apparently—he asked, “What is your name, girl? What is the name of the young woman who shall become my seventh wife?”
“Jun,” she answered with a sigh. “This one's name is Shuchun Jun.”
Two
“Whoooo!” Nicholas “Nicky Gunn” Amberley banged a fist against the table with such force, a few of his empty shot glasses toppled over. As he raked his winnings toward him, his eyebrows wagged and his grin expanded. “It looks like I win again, boys! After a few more wins like this, I might be able to retire early.”
The Emperor's Bride Page 1
