prince-wen:
She was very fierce – it was the first word that presented itself to Wen. The image of a tiger cub, with vibrant golden fur and claws like piercing needles, yet still somehow with a little of the softness of childhood. She was a little intimidating, in truth, but there was also a great charisma about her that made Wen want not to look away.
He took the proffered hand in his own and kissed her fingers as he had been trained – it was a strange custom to him, but when in someone else’s country it was important to follow their customs.
“And I am Wen, prince of the third rank of China,” he said, a quietly suppressed chuckle at her comment on how it felt as though one could only whisper. It was true. “You are quite right. It would be my pleasure to accompany you on a walk through the streets of this beautiful city.”
Not that he had much choice in the matter, as she was already gesturing him out. “In answer to your question, we do not practice Catholicism, but it does not feel like treason against my own beliefs. My family practices Taoism, which is more a philosophy than a religion. It is about achieving perfection by becoming one with “the way” – that is the tao. We value compassion, frugality, and humility. What I have learned of Catholicism… I do not think it needs to be exclusive from my believes. Did Christ not walk among man? It seems to me that our beliefs are not so different. We all want to look upon people with compassion, do we not? Perhaps we simply walk down different roads towards the same destination.”
She watched with combustible curiosity as the Prince of China took her hand. He was unlike what she had imagined; men made of myth and strength had always come to mind when her thoughts strayed to what lay before the Mountains that stood in guard of an Empire that had long been dismayed as too far away to play its part on Eurasia’s stage. Joanna’s interest yet, pushed her forever. Alas, she had never been a child of education — otherwise, perhaps she would’ve pushed to learn more on what lay yonder.
She took his arm without his admission, leading him out from beneath the high arched ceiling of the cathedral to instead meet the sudden whisp of a Winter’s chill. Paris was a pretty city, or so, it would one day perhaps meet such a compliment — but Joanna never found happiness in grey clouds or the fog that lingered longer than was necessary. It was perhaps the one reason why she found herself whimpering at the idea of moving to Austria — a country not known for sunshine and coastal regions.
“I have never heard of such a thing, though I am sure my governess mentioned it when I was younger… I never found the taste for patience and listening,” Joanna mused, waving the thoughts aside with a spare hand as she gazed to the Prince; a following grouping behind them; guards both of his retinue and her own. “I suppose not, I do find it a troublesome subject, if I was to offer your grace some honest reflection. Religion seems to tear the world apart, when in reality it all seems rather… well, as you said, the same. Do not tell my mother that though, for I fear she’d have me locked away for blasphemy,” Joanna warned, an eyebrow risen from its original setting before laughing out loud — tugging at the Prince’s arm.
“How do you find this place? Boring, isn’t it?”
