C/W [ FULL PARTS ] : age gap (empress is 35, reader is 22), reader fell first, yandere fell harder, toxic behaviour, isolation, abuse of power, humilliation (reader likes it), mysognitic society, not very historically accurate.
[ PART 1 ] . [ PART 2 ] . [ PART 3 ] .
Spring has arrived. Children run through the village, laughing cheerfully with small kites in their hands, their laughter filled the air as the day begins. The air feels warmer than previous days, a sign that winter has finally come to an end. A good start for mom and dad business! – you hummed happily as you walked outside, carrying the folded bolts of cloth carefully. You love spring because it always draws people to your stall, and you've got a good feeling that this year is no different. You can't wait to sell the cloth you and your parents had worked on tirelessly during the whole winter. Honestly? Even you took pride and admit that your parents are among the finest cloth makers that people have ever met in their entire life, both of them are so skilled that even royals travelled all the way here to this village just so they could buy one. It is that good, and it's natural for you, their only (and lovely) daughter — wishing to inherit their business once you became an adult. You don't have any plans other than that anyway.
Ah right.. speaking of being an adult, by the time spring ends, 2 months from now to be exact — you'll turn 18. Time sure passes by so quickly. You've thought about it so many times, and you were so sure that you'll spend the rest of your life here in this village, making cloth, and selling them. It might not be the most wonderful life, nothing out of ordinary, but at least mom and dad won't be worried when i get older — you thought to yourself as your hands move to display the cloth. And after that, maybe i'll marry a guy... , a small sigh left your lips once you finished displaying all the silks. The stall opens for the day.
To be honest, you overslept today. Your parents are away for some business trip. They'd seriously lecture you if they found out their daughter was dilly dallying. But honestly, can it be helped? A little slacking is not that bad.. Still, you winced in embarassment when you realized the sun is already high above the rooftops. The neighbours had already started since dawn, and the children that walked passed by your stall teased you, telling you no men would ever wanna marry a woman that wake up late, making your cheeks flushed red in annoyance, or embarassment, no, both. They laughed and ran away after you yelled at them.
"Hm?" As you busied yourself with the silks, making sure no dust laying on the cloth, a sharp strike of a gong echoes loudly, deep and commanding. Your ears hurted a bit, and you let out a tsk, wondering what was that. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, the village immediately bustle, confused whispers overlapping — until those who recognize the sound hiss urgent warnings to others in order to lower their heads. You are one of the confused folks, dumbfounded inside your stall, you peek slightly to see what the commotion is.
"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!" The shout slices through the air. Like a sea that has been splitted apart—everyone instinctively cleared the path for the grand carriage. Heads lowered, breaths held, confused or not, no one dares to question. Including yourself.
"HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, THE EMPRESS HAS ARRIVED!"
Now that you think about it, how sure you were back then.
Thinking you'd want to spend your entire life creating cloths, never leaving this village.
Thinking you'd be satisfied, totally content with that.
You should have lowered your heads, everyone else had already done so.
But that carriage passes by your stall, right in front of you. A silk curtain, embroidered with the finest gold, hangs in place. Just the right size— enough to prevent curious eyes from seeing what lies within. Still, the hurried and rushed pace of the carriage, the occasional bumps caused by the uneven grounds of the village, make it difficult for the curtain to do its work.
The very woman who governs, if not owns, the land you stepped in. The one whose name never spoken out loud, out of respect and fear. First, they would speak of her achievements: the reforms she enforced, the wars she ended, the orders she give upon brutal and nasty chaos. Then, they will spoke of her beauty, they would say things like she came out straight from a painting, or, Her Majesty descended from the heaven above. They praise her generosity, how she never hesitate to use her wealth, treating her people as if they are her own children.
And then, inevitably, come the rumors. The scandals spoken of only behind closed doors. Unanswered questions linger: such as, how she, a woman, rose where men before her had fallen. How she claimed and rule an empire, and held it with an unyielding grip. Without a man by her side, something most women could never dream of.
Though, i wonder, is she really THAT beautiful..? Even mom boast about how beautiful she is.. i'm kind of skeptical about that since everyone keep telling me the same thing...
What you saw inside that carriage wasn't 'a lady that came out straight from a painting' , neither was she 'a being that descended from the heaven above'.
The first thing you witness is the slight flutter of her long lashes. Just by a single glance, you can tell she is faintly drowsy—yet not unguarded. Her lashes curve alluringly, brushing against the porcelain, smooth cheeks of hers. When she opens her eyes, you are greeted with sharp hue of reddish amber, colliding with the ray of sun. Her gaze set your heart aflame just as its color did; neither fully stern, nor gentle, it rests somewhere in between—until the sharp tilt of her eyes follows even the slightest furrow of her brows, then shall it turn into something unmistakably commanding. A look that needn't voice to speak her mind. Her nose is straight and elegant, the bridge subtly emphasized thanks to the contour of her perfect makeup, sharpening her face feature and the grace of her side profile. Slightly parted, her lips. As though perpetually on the verge of speaking, yet she does not do so. There is nothing to say, for now. Her Majesty's lips, the soft rosy colour mirrors the pink roses you saw in books, and also similar to the faint flush of her cheeks, but comes in smoother color, more gentle. Long bangs frame her face, veiling each sides equally. With one, or two long strands on her forehead down to her left ear, tucked perfectly. Her hair, a deep radiant of blood red, spills down her back and brushes against the plush seat beneath her. Despite the violent jolts caused by the uneven grounds, Her Majesty's hair remain in its place as if frozen. Not a single strand dares to fall out of place, they move as if obedient, as though—knowing better than to rebel against the perfect persona she is maintaning. Ornaments adorn her hair, each one of them looks burdensome, and definitely costly. One could probably buy 5 to 7 stalls in here. Despite the weight piercing right through her whole body, she does not lean back to her seat, nor does she reach to ease the strain upon her neck. Her posture remains the same from the moment she left the palace, until where she is currently right now. Don't even ask about the attire she is wearing. It's always extravagant whenever royals wear it, sometimes you even cringed because it's clearly uncomfortable to wear while they always tried to brush it off. But not.. on her. Her Highness did not come out from a painting. Paintings were born and crafted by the human mind, and the human mind was far too limited to contain what she, The Empress, has. Too limited to capture her as whole. No canvas was wide enough, no pigment was rich enough, just for the sake of capturing her as her. You could try to paint hundreds, if not thousands of times over and over until your brain burst from exhaustion. And still, each potrait would fall short, lacking. Not the artist's fault, of course. Her Highness does not descended from heaven either. For had she truly been crafted by the heavens themselves, what reason could possibly lead them into letting her go? They would never. The heavens have, and always been posessive of beautiful things. They would have kept her close, hidden from the corrupt and digusting world that would risk of ruining her perfect beauty, unwilling to cast something so exquisite into the hands of mortals. They would wept, begged, and plead for her to stay, they would offer her everything they have just so she could keep blessing them with her presence.
It suits her. Being perfect suits her.
What you saw was none other than the embodiment of the word 'beautiful' itself.
If beauty was a human being, it's her.
If beauty has an actual form rather than just a mere word, it's her.
The word 'beautiful' exists, because she exists.
People said, that spring brought changes into our lives. It's the only season that represents new begginings, something you're skeptical about, considering your life has always been revolved around this village and the silks in your hands.
You didn't realize, at that day, that very moment, something is about to change in your life.
The future that you were so sure about, the future you've planned...
— they all collapsed into nothingness as you locked your gaze with that pair of her red eyes.
When you finally came back to your senses, that you had been staring far way too long, so much for rude and shamelessness, you lowered your head at once, bowing deeply with the others.
Thus, that very night after the commotion had faded, and her carriage had long left the village, right the exact time the moon comes up and your parents' footsteps can be heard from outside— you opened the door of your house, carrying your parents' luggage with cheeky grin and red cheeks.
They paused, stared at each other, then at you. Confusion etched to their faces, seeing their beloved daughter so enthusiast for the reason they have yet to know. When they asked, you finally speak.
Taking a deep breath, you opened your mouth again, and lifted your head.
"I want to serve the Empress."
The sound of the carriage blended into the night. The Empress was far quieter than usual.
Well, then again, she was never one for idle conversation—but tonight, her presence felt heavier, more oppressive, as though her mind was burdened with thoughts she had no intention of sharing.
The coachman guiding the horses, the soldiers escorting the carriage, even her personal attendants inside—all of them held their breath. None dared to disturb the state of her mind.
As if struck by lightning, the attendant’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest when the Empress called her. The Empress, in turn, clicked her tongue in irritation at the exaggerated reaction of the two women.
The first attendant hastily apologized, bowing her head. The Empress frowned, visibly displeased.
“There is something I wish to ask,” the Empress said, her voice glacial. "Who was the insolent girl earlier?”
She must be angered by the disrespectful stare! The attendant thought in panic.
“AH! Your Majesty must have felt deeply offended!” the attendant burst out. “I will have her dragged away at once and order the soldiers to behead her for daring to look upon you so impudently—”
“Do not interrupt me when i'm speaking.”
The Empress’s patience thinned to its limit. Cold sweat broke out along the attendants’ backs. One wrong move—and it would be their heads rolling on the ground.
The Empress exhaled slowly.
“Y–Yes, Your Majesty,” the first attendant stammered. “Her name is [Name]. She is the only daughter of the Su family—renowned silk makers of this city. Surely you've heard of them..”
The second attendant quickly added, “You may not be aware of it, Your Majesty, but even the curtain of this carriage was crafted by their hands.”
The Empress closed her eyes as the attendants continued to talk, as though considering something carefully.
“Forgive my boldness, Your Majesty,” the first attendant stops her explanation, still visibly tense. “But… why do you ask?”
The Empress offered no response.
The two women exchanged glances and bowed, silently deciding not to press the matter further. One of them glanced out of the carriage window, followed by the other. "Look.." she whispered to her fellow colleague.
“Your Majesty,” she said cautiously, “I hear that tomorrow we are to proceed as scheduled—continuing our mission to seek women worthy of serving you. In that village, there are many young women of remarkable beauty and impeccable etiquette.”
“Yes, indeed,” the other chimed in eagerly. “I am acquainted with Lady Ming… and Lady Wei as well. They would make excellent ladies-in-waiting. Their grace and beauty would surely adorn your court and empire. Shall we invite them to attend this year’s selection—”
Both attendants stared at the Empress in disbelief.
At last, the Empress opened her eyes.
“I have already made my choice.”
A/N : yeah... guess who's back lol, i figured that Part 1 should be a backstory between you and The Empress heheh, this was set 4 to 5 years before the actual main story. Irl works tire me out, sorry that this is short and took me so long. Stay tuned for more ! <33 love y'all
