An arrow, just missing the tip of his shoes, lanced Prince Han from his thoughts. He looked up from the hard-packed dirt of the archery grounds to glare at Yiqiang. Yiqiang glared back.
"You're not watching,"
Prince Han rolled his eyes, "I'm tired. Do it again, I'll watch this time,"
Yiqiang threw his bow to the ground.
"Tired from what? Hanging around Third brother and the rest of them? Fine! Piss off! I don't need you. I'll go back, and Mother will find a new tutor who's better than you!"
Sang'er picked the bow back up, "Sixth Prince, my lord, has been assisting His Majesty with court affairs for long hours every day. Even so, he comes to see you every day to assess your progress,"
Yiqiang said nothing. He grabbed the bow and turned back to the targets.
"Your drawing arm is too low," Prince Han called, "Straighten up,"
Sang'er returned to Prince Han's side, casting worried glances at him, "My lord, are you alright?"
"I'm fine,"
"You–"
"I said I'm fine," Prince Han hissed, "Drop it,"
"Yes, my lord,"
Prince Han focused on Yiqiang. When that was finished, he focused on the memorials that The Emperor had sent to his rooms. He then focused on clearing his mind and chasing the sleep that eluded him.
"My lord," Sang'er said after hours of silence and no sleep, "You must contain yourself. There's nothing you can do,"
Prince Han rolled over and drew the covers. He didn't need Sang'er to remind him of this.
"...Meimei may tolerate a maid that crawls into The Emperor's bed, but I won't,"
De gui fei's words sliced at his chest like a burning knife like they did days before. Jiayi was trying to become His Majesty's concubine. When he heard De gui fei leave the room, Prince Han wanted to pry the window open and crawl back in. He wanted to shake Jiayi and tell her she was making a mistake. He wanted to spew all his pent-up resentment for His Majesty at her. That His Majesty was fickle and paid no mind to anyone's feelings, even his difujin's. If Jiayi displeased him at all, he would happily let her waste away in misery or be cruel enough that she would end it all herself.
But he didn't do that. He picked himself up and avoided Sang'er's eyes.
Truthfully, that would never happen to Jiayi. Once His Majesty had the chance to know her, there was no way he wouldn't favor her. The arts always entertained His Majesty. The fact that Jiayi could draw anything you could imagine in moments would always be fascinating. The Emperor would be refreshed by Jiayi's unadorned beauty and captivated by her in rouge and silks.
But the idea of Jiayi becoming The Emperor's concubine made his stomach clench. However, he had no right to it. His Majesty did like he did every unmarried woman in The Forbidden City. It was only natural, anyway. The Emperor was the Son of God. Who wouldn't want that over the almost-bastard child of the Late Emperor? No matter how much His Majesty favored Prince Han, he could never compare. What could he do for her family that His Majesty couldn't do ten times over? Not to mention, Jiayi had never promised him anything. He had not spoken a word of his feelings to her. Sly glances and blushing smiles were nothing when you added them all up. They were just friends.
Sleep eventually dragged Prince Han down into the darkness. He doesn't go to court that morning and sends Sang'er to tell The Emperor the cold is making his old wounds ache. He ate his lunch until he was full despite the food tasting like ash in his mouth. However, he couldn't hide and lick the wounds he truly didn't have. He was a 4th rank Prince, personally titled by His Majesty. He had been wounded more fiercely than this before and would again.
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A Forbidden Happiness
Historical FictionAll 18-year-old Jiayi wants is to keep her head down and serve her mistress, but the ever-changing tides of The Forbidden City continue to drag her under. Faced with a lifetime chained to a lecherous eunuch, Jiayi conns her way out of slavedom and i...