The Ant Woman Ch. 04

The Moonlight Pearl Palace was the illustrious home of Junshu's Empress Consort. It was protected by its own set of tall walls and a gate. Past the gate, one could see a private garden of flowers and herbs, and even a few fruit trees. The patios and balconies had many potted plants and sculptures to admire. The columns had delicate images carved in them, flower petals and seeds that eternally rained down.

There was a nursery inside where a toddler princess slept in an alcove bed that might have been too big for her. A nanny slept on a pallet on the floor nearby. Only a tiny oil lamp was allowed to shine in this dark space, in case someone needed to get up and use a chamberpot. And the little princess often had woken up in the middle of the night with damp sheets anyway. Poor dear.

The Empress Consort's room was a respectable distance away. It had the most fragrant plants and incense.

The Madam's body was a on the shorter side, and her ears wear similar, pointy as anyone else's but smaller in length. Her hair was similar to her husband's, long and pale blonde, glowing under the limited firelight. Unlike her husband's, it was tightly kept in a coiffure with two sections shaped like butterfly wings. The ornaments had been removed, but it was still an impressive structure.

Her almond shaped eyes were turned away from the man above her. Her white face was like a melon seed. The delicate jaw was obviously clenched. The smooth nostrils of the slim nose were flaring.

Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin thought she was beautiful, painfully beautiful, a spring flower with all the softness.

But she never did seem to enjoy his grace.

Some minutes ago, he'd tried what he'd always tried before. He'd hooked her legs over his shoulders and licked as much of her as his tongue could reach. At least the Empress would often coo and sigh at this. But she almost never flexed nor tensed against his mouth as most of his other consorts would do. In fact, after a time, she'd often have her foot's heel rap against his back as if she wanted to say, "I'd appreciate it if you stopped right now."

Her thick flavor was still on his lips as he gripped her hips and pressed his knees into the bed, lunging forward and plunging his manhood deep inside.

Careful not to press too hard, his teeth went to her shoulder as her perfume and makeup's sweet aromas blended in with the musk on his mouth. He'd been here before, drowning in his own lust, but not finding any hint of hers.

After a while, frustration itself frustrated him, if that could even be done. And no matter how tight she felt, no matter how easily his shaft glided in and out, the Emperor could only find happiness in random thoughts. For example, how big was the world? How many people existed? What was beyond the sky? How big was the sun?

He turned limp.

The Emperor didn't feel apologetic. This didn't always happen, but it certainly had happened before. The Empress never seemed to care, or if she did she certainly never told him about her feelings. She only sighed as if she was relieved to know he was going away without finishing the job.

But just as his bare feet touched a rug on the floor, he thought of something.

His legs folded back up as he crawled into the bed again, and he put his fingers on the Empress' cheek, touching the soft paint.

The only reaction he found was a swift puff of air from her lips.

The Emperor leaned in again. This time, he got close enough to taste her sweet breath.

When his lips touched hers for the briefest of moments, the Empress jerked away and shrieked, "What?!"

He moved away, his fingers brushing her rouge as they floated off. "I ... are you hurt?"

Her palm hovering near her mouth, Empress Shungjahe Atsuka pushed herself to a sitting position. She looked angry. "I thought ... for a moment my mind was wild and I thought you'd bite my lips off!"

"Oh." He truly moved off the bed then, convinced that he wouldn't find what he'd been yearning for in this palace. "I wouldn't do that, but since you're so frightened I won't disturb you anymore."

The Emperor put his seed in a concubine that night. He felt some guilt because he'd woken her up from her sleep to do it. He decided the recompense would be a gift of some sort. Perhaps an old but well loved painting he kept in storage. But she probably wasn't upset. It was in a consort's best interest to submit to his sexual advances. If she became pregnant, more wealth and glory would be in store for her.

And the Emperor always rewarded the mothers of his children.

The Emperor was in charge of his women. He basically owned them, but he didn't want to be cruel to them.

***

On the next morning, Wen took breakfast in her apartment. It was the second breakfast she'd had in the Tree Cage. During that meal, one of her maids said, "The Empress Dowager's birthday dinner will be tomorrow. Our kind Mistress is invited, but she won't be asked to give a gift."

Then the maids started guessing to each other about what they thought the other dinner guests might give the Empress Dowager. Pieces of embroidery? Prayer beads made of polished gemstones? Packets of rare tea leaves? Who could say?

After breakfast, Wen sat in her bedroom, at her little vanity desk and mirror. Then, her eyes widening a bit, she said to Nuan, who had been looking for something, "I need a comb and a pair of scissors."

"Hm? Would you like for me to trim the split ends in your hair?" Nuan asked as she looked in a case of grooming tools.

"No, not quite."

Nuan spent some time combing her hair down her back, and she eventually asked, "Why does my Mistress want the scissors?"

Wen took a lock of hair in her fingers.

Her free hand took the scissors.

Nuan's jaw fell. She was too shocked to do anything.

Wen cut the lock away. Then she braided the lock, secured it with a white string, and told Nuan to place it inside a sachet full of ground flower petals, ground leaves, and a pinch of charcoal ash. That was when Nuan's expression relaxed.

On the day after that, all the other concubines were busy for the whole morning and afternoon. They barely even ate, or that's what Wen had observed. What gown? What blouse? What shawl? Which pieces of jewelry? Which colors for the face? Decisions, so many decisions!

Wen knew she had to look pretty too. But she didn't put too much effort in her appearance. So many higher ranking consorts, and the Empress Consort herself, would be at the dinner. There would be no point trying to outshine anyone, at least not with her fashion sense. But she dressed nicely regardless.

A salad green dress, no embroidery of course. A simple black blouse held over the dress. The blouse's hem was long enough to reach her covered belly button, but Wen had the inner corners pinned up to her bosom with a plain copper brooch. A wide shawl of gray silk was put over her arms for when she needed a little bit of warmth. These were on her body.

As for her almost embarrassingly simply hairstyle, there were two hairsticks of wood, each with a small bird formed from white velvet and thin copper wires. Instead of a traditional necklace, Wen chose a fairly long white ribbon with a pendant of more copper, similar to her brooch. Instead of traditional bracelets, two loops of more ribbon were around her wrists.

Her makeup was white, and she had small patches of rouge on her cheeks and her delicate gradient of central lip color, but she wore no flashy symbols and no false dimples. And there was no fingernail varnish.

The dinner was to be held at Peach Cream Hall, which was a building a short walking distance away from the Emperor's personal palace. It was designed for many celebrations. It was a huge place, and that was a good thing. The extra space was very much needed. The Emperor had a grand amount of consorts.

Including his Empress Consort, there were twenty-four women available to him ... or was it twenty-five? Wen had difficulty counting them all, especially since each consort had one or two maids following them into the building. When Wen had first entered the Tree Cage she'd secretly thought ill of the Emperor for his amount of consorts. Then she'd once heard two concubines discussing past emperors.

Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin's great grandfather apparently had eighty consorts at once later on in his life. His successor had changed the permitted number for each concubine rank after that.

The concubines sat at small, rectangular tables in rows on each side of the dining hall. It was a glorious room with pale wooden walls, a shiny dark floor, huge windows with open shutters to let the cool autumn air in, and bamboo wind chimes. At the end of the all, there were larger tables where the Emperor, the Empress Consort, and the Empress Dowager all sat. Their eunuchs and maids were standing by.

The Empress Consort was a clinquant woman of mildly smaller stature, or she seemed smaller than what Wen had expected. Her emerald green eyes looked intelligent yet strangely tired. The hairsticks in her hair were almost like a halo. The blue beads that fell from the sticks reminded Wen of a waterfall.

She wore a yellow gown with colorful medallion embroidery, each circle cradling a tree with a dragon circling around its trunk. Padparadscha sapphires were arranged on her blouse's trimming. Her gold fingernail guards were loaded with more matching sapphires. She outshone every consort there, even the highest ranking ones, and the highest ranking ones looked like royalty in their own way.

If one wanted to describe the Empress Dowager, one could say, "If the Emperor was an old woman with gray hair, that would be the Empress Dowager." Under her layers of wrinkles one could still see her pale blue eyes. She had just as much jewelry as the Empress Consort, but her clothing was all black with yellow details. She had a light smile when the concubines entered the hall, but over time Wen saw it shrink away.

All the concubines went to their knees and said with well trained voices, "Greetings to the Emperor, Empress Consort, and Empress Dowager. Fond birthday wishes to the Empress Dowager. May she enjoy many more years."

Her closed fingers slowly drawing a line up in the air, the Empress Dowager said with her creaking voice, "Up, rise and then sit down."

"Thank you, Empress Dowager," all the concubines said. Then they all got up to go to their tables and sit down.

Before dinner would be served, the long process of presenting the gifts to the Empress Dowager would begin. A eunuch would read each concubine's name from a list, asking them for their gifts, starting from the lowest rank. The lowest rank would have the lowest monthly allowance, and so, they'd likely have the least impressive gifts. It would be better to end the ritual with the most impressive gift, which would come from the Emperor himself.

Now, Wen knew that when her name would be called, she'd be expected to kneel on the floor again and verbally apologize. Then the Empress Dowager would say something similar to, "You've been excused," or "You've only been here a few days. Don't fret. Go to your seat again."

But when her name was called, and when Wen was kneeling and apologizing, she reached into her blouse's inner pocket and pulled out her sachet, where her lock of hair was kept.

She heard the recognizing little whispers among the other women. They must have thought she was trying to gain the Empress Dowager's favor through false flattery. When an elf wanted to apologize to a person, there were several ways to do it. When an elf wanted to apologize to say ... the elven Goddess of Grandmothers ... Sobola the Wise, then one would put a lock of hair in a sachet with some sweet smelling things and charcoal ash. Then it would be placed at an altar as one would do for a sacrifice.

After she placed the sachet on the floor, less than half a foot away from her knees, Wen said, "This concubine," referring to herself, "has several reasons to apologize, but I didn't know if the Great Empress Dowager would consider my apology to be worth anything more than a handful of dust. This is the best method I could think of."

Her lips a tight line of indignation, the Empress Dowager rose and stared down at Wen with blazing shards of ice in her eyes. "Little Concubine," she said with a chilling tone that made Wen feel slightly nauseated with fear, "How can you be so blatant?! If I didn't think the concept was ridiculous, I'd assume you were joking!"

Not really caring about whatever expressions were on the Emperor and Empress Consort's face, Wen looked down and gave a dramatic sigh. "It seems that the Empress Dowager doubts me." She reached into her blouse again. "I feel as though my soul's been eroded." She revealed her sharp pair of scissors. They had dangerous points.

She heard a concubine whisper to another, "What's she doing?"

Then the Emperor himself. Curt but loud. "I doubt you've lost your mind. Whatever you've planned, as long as you harm no one, go on with it."

Wen didn't know if she was frightened by his ability to call a bluff or impressed by his curiosity and indirect compliment. He'd directly ordered her to continue with what she wanted to do, and in front of everyone too. He might as well have said, "This person genuinely interests me."

Her free hand tore the hairsticks from her coiffure. She laid the sticks on the floor, where they made little clacking noises. Then she tugged and pulled her hair down. It swept around her form and covered some of the floor around her.

She mostly saw her knees, the floor, and her hair.

She opened the scissors' blades and took a decent chunk of hair on one side of her face.

Most of the women gasped.

Snip!!

"Royal Son," the Empress Dowager said in a quieter voice, "you might have misjudged this woman. She must have lost her mind."

Wen felt the scissors' cold metal on her other cheek.

Snip!!

"Stop immediately!" That was the Empress Dowager. "I ... I accept your apology! And if you want to apologize for anything else, then come to the Plum Aroma Palace tomorrow morning." That was where the Empress Dowager lived.

Wen closed the blades and laid the scissors flat on the floor, a bit below where the sachet was. She layered her hands against the scissors, prostrated herself, and said, "Your servant is honored by those words, Empress Dowager. Thank you."

She put her things, even her sachet, back in her blouse. Then she scooped up her cut locks and packed them close to her hidden sachet. When Wen got up, turned around, and looked at her maid's face (it was Nuan), she felt some guilt. Poor Nuan's black hair looked droopy, as if she'd been so nervous that she'd been pulling on it. Wen hadn't told her she'd been planning on cutting so much of her hair. She'd even chop it all off if she thought she needed to.

An elf, especially a woman, normally only cut pieces of their own hair when they wanted to express true sincerity in dire circumstances ... or when doing something that involved the gods. But the almost hilarious fact about high class elves was that they'd often put in false locks to cut for a false show, and once again especially women. High class elven women tended to view their hair as their glory.

And now, even as the rest of the gifts were being presented, everyone either stared at Wen as if they were afraid of her, or they ignored her. Most of the higher ranking people that ignored her were the Empress Consort, the Emperor, and certainly the Dowager. The highest ranked concubines ignored her too. The other women had concerned eyes pointed at her, even Pollen Lady Kumi, the mistress of the palace Wen lived in.

When dinner was finished and everyone was leaving into the night, Pollen Lady Kumi gripped Wen's shoulder and led her, along with her troubled maid, to an empty road so she could whisper in her ear. "Now everyone thinks you've gone mad. There was no need for such an extreme display. What were you thinking?"

Knowing better than to tell her secrets so easily, Wen only gave her a half-kneel and asked, "Would Madam like for me to join her on the cool path back home?"

Kumi sighed, but she allowed it.

Wen didn't really care much about what Kumi thought.

But she did care about two important facts.

One, she now had a reputation as an extreme woman, which meant that most people wouldn't want to bother her.

Two, the Empress Dowager would have a meeting with her tomorrow morning.

***

The subdued elegance of the Plum Aroma Palace was like a well groomed tree with a smooth, gleaming trunk and just enough leaves for decoration. Inside the reception room, where Wen knelt on the floor, Moto kneeling behind her, the Empress Dowager seethed in her chair.

"Have you thought of an explanation for the ridiculousness you displayed yesterday?"

Noticing that the Dowager's maid was also pretty strict looking, Wen sighed and told the elder, "This humble woman knew that as a new, low ranking concubine, the Empress Dowager might not care for her, and so she might not be willing to have an audience."

Her fingernail guards clacking against her chair's armrest, the Dowager asked, "How desperate can a woman be?!"

Bowing a bit, Wen said, "I know my place in this world. In a concubine's audition for the Tree Cage, the Emperor's honored mother attends to help him choose from among the beauties. However, the Emperor decided to pluck me up with nobody's input, or that's how it appeared. Truthfully, this could lead one to believe I unjustly seduced the Emperor in the hopes of quickly receiving glory."

"Your right about the Emperor," the Dowager said with a wispy exhale. "He never consulted me. It was as if you sprouted from a crack in pavement and were transplanted to a garden."

Wen straightened back up but kept her eyes low. "I don't know why the Emperor gave me this honor, but I'm grateful that he gave me the lowest rank. If I was any higher, I'd be concerned about secret harassment from the other consorts."

She heard the understanding swell up in the elderly woman's tone. "Are you asking for my protection?"

Shaking her head, her cut locks of hair now integrated as ornamental pieces swishing around her cheeks, Wen answered, "I'm asking for your forgiveness." Her short bits of hair returned to their soft and angular shapes when her head stabilized. "I won't break any of the rules in this palace, but I admit that I might behave in a peculiar way. I think differently from all those beauties, and so, even the Emperor might lose his patience with me. So please, Empress Dowager, if and even when I offend you, please remember your mercy."

"You're asking for my protection, then."

"I'd never use that phrasing, Great Dowager."

The elderly woman slapped her armrest. Her rings might have dented the wood. That's how hard the noise sounded to Wen. "I won't give in to such an unruly child! Return to your palace and copy the Book of Feminine Aphorisms one hundred times!!"

Bowing again, her palms feeling the cold floor, Wen asked, "Would the Dowager be so kind as to teach this stupid concubine what rule she's broken, so that she knows how not to break the rule again?"

The Empress Dowager coughed, likely into a handkerchief. Then she sputtered out, "You ... you ...!" Another clanking noise with her hand jewelry. "Fine. Don't bother with the book. Go. Leave this palace immediately. I don't want to see you right now."

"Thank you, Dowager, for letting me have your precious time." Wen rose, had Moto protectively take her wrist to keep her from tripping, and left the palace.

***

Back at Wen's apartment, just when they walked into the dining/reception room, Wen happened to see Nuan hurriedly burying some leather and cloth into a bag at her side. She'd been sitting down, apparently sewing. That was fine. Wen had no problems with her sewing during her limited spare time. However, the quick flare of panic that flew across Nuan's gray eyes disturbed Wen. She turned to the maid and asked, "Is everything alright?"