In The Eastern Empire she lived her days constantly letting go of yesterday, receiving nothing from the present, and laying her arms open for tomorrow. She had no fond memories of her past, nothing that belonged solely to her—not even her own name. The earliest memory she had as a small child was the lifeless body of an elderly man in an old, nearly falling apart house which most likely was her childhood home. Or so she liked to imagine in those childish fantasies, the mind her only escape from reality until too far gone to even dream. She liked to try and remember what the walls looked like, if there were a low table in the middle of the room filled with supper, enjoyed together with a large bubbly family. Did she have a bed? Was she ever hugged and cared for through the darkened nights? No matter how much the nameless woman tried when growing up, no memories would surface from those efforts. Non other than the pitiless reality. Although she did remember the men from the village coming to take the body away, how she sat beside it almost knowing they’d come—and from then on she became truly alone.
Learning to survive in the streets was a task which never eased. Perhaps that is exactly what gave her enough strength to pull through each rising sun. That day, when the carriage was being loaded with people loitering by the sides of the streets at the market, she had finally become too weakened to go on. One’s mind is a powerful force. You can keep running without rest in true desperation, or feel the knees give in if stripped away of the will to live. And the body will listen. She had grown exhausted by the relentless obstacles which needed to be crossed in order to reach the beautiful hue of orange and pink and yellow after nightfall. A halo through the roofs of the houses build closely side by side. Her only remedy. Those without a home camped in the cramped thin alleyways, avoiding getting in trouble for resting in the way of others—or coming across someone with rather ill intentions. It was better to stay in the shadows. At least that way those terrible enough would have to go through the trouble of a game of hide and seek first.
That day, once she had decided to lean against the wall in her own dark alleyway hidden and given the privacy to finally let go, two men in fine deep wine red robes tied with a belt which held the distinctive weapons of golden swords, twirling details of fiery dragons carved through the black sword sheaths, stepped in front of her as if manifested from thin air. They looked down at her. And finally spoke.
’’She looks perfect for the task, don’t you think?’’ One said. She wasn’t sure of his demeanor, given her slumped shoulders and neck which could barely lift the head up.
’’Too bad, what a waste.’’ The other one answered with a slight sneer almost malicious, ’’Now now, do not go unconscious on us. You are needed, after all.’’
Needed, me? She had wondered. Those words had never been directed towards her, and almost unwillingly, those very same simple letters combined gave the boost needed to keep the heart bounding. A silly little thing inside her chest. She told herself that she did not care. They could take her to a brothel and she'd deliberately do such a terrible job her client would end her with their very own hands. She could be taken to the seamstress to stomp on linen in a burning hot bowls of water from dawn till dusk nonstop. No one knew what would happen once The Emperors soldiers took those poor souls off the streets, no one ever came back to tell the end of the story. Whether this or that—a known fact was that those people were never seen again.
’’How shameless! Outrageous! How shall we punish her, Your Highness?’’ The fuming palace employees voice echoed through the dark grey walls enough to startle The Prince himself, forcing him to break the eye contact with the woman still supported by his firm arm.
’’Torture?!’’ The other man added.
Moon Kian, the second born son of Emperor Moon, instead of dropping her down and kicking her filthy back in disgust as many nobles would if touched by those worse than dirty commoners, helped her on her own two feet and did not let go of the slim arms until made sure she found a steady balance. How he dared to touch her with his bare hands beyond incomprehensible, ’’Shameless? Torture? Excessive don't you think.’’ He smiled down towards her, the woman taken aback by it for why on earth would he offer such useless kindness, ’’Yes, she is the one. Take her by the washroom and ask them to dress her. She should not kneel in front of His Majesty The Emperor looking like this.’’
’’Certainly, Your Highness.’’ The two employees answered and bowed both in perfect rehearsed unison. Most certainly a result of relentless training. They trapped her arms yet again in a tight hold on both sides and began to drag her away, the numb bare feet not keeping up and dragging behind.
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After a while of the feet dragging on the harsh surface of the bumpy rocky floors, hitting the one hundred stairs going up, the nameless woman could feel the bruises and wounds forming after each collide. Truly, the two men weren’t very pleasant. They kept spitting out vulgar insults after another as if her mere existence was an inconvenience to them.
’’Well?’’ The other man yanked her harder not even earning a small squeal out of her, ’’What do you have to say for yourself?’’ His tone worse than milk left sitting under the sun for days on end.
’’Ying, i do not think she can hear us.’’ The other man raised his upper lip with a puckered forehead, ’’She might not even be able to speak. Let’s check if she has her tongue still intact. Maybe she used to be a convicted slave, we never know.’’
’’That is true, well thought my friend. We shouldn’t trust anyone sent from The Eastern Empire, right? She could be a spy, even.’’ The men stopped and let go resulting into her falling on her knees while the two men crouched down beside her. One took a hold of her slim jaw with an unnecessary force, while the other pinched her nose and forced the mouth open, ripping the already chapped lips which began to bleed from the driest parts.
’’Huh, a tongue still intact. So not a convicted criminal it seems.’’ The man sounded almost disappointed not getting his desired drama.
The other palace employee clicked his tongue, bored of what she had to offer, and out of nowhere leaned closer to scream inside her ear so loud it created a ringing tinnitus through and inside the other ear as well. However, not much of a response came from that either.
’’So, looks like she cannot hear.’’ The man shrugged with his voice now sacrificed hoarse for the sake of the experiment, ’’Well, might be for the best. A woman who cannot hear is a woman who will not speak.’’
Their sardonic laughter carried through the sheltered space.
The echo of it worse than any scream possible.
Repulsive.
After she had been dropped by the women’s washroom, shoved through the sliding doors in a steamy chamber intended for those working lower class mundane jobs such as cleaning and kitchen duty. Three women scrubbed her fragile naked body clean with harsh cloths nearly breaking the skin from the friction with lukewarm water running cold, added loads of cheap powders in the scalp of her head to get rid of the grease and smell as there would be no time to wash such thick and long hair and let it dry, already running late. Another female employee gathered a basic outfit which each of them wore, a light grey robe with thinner sleeves so they could be rolled up when needed, and a creamy light underdress that peeked from beneath the robe. After washing her body from all the dirt in a round deep barrel, they helped her get dressed as if playing with a doll, tied the string of the wrapped robe on the side of her waist and combed her hair ready to be made into a long braid and then twisted into a neat large round bun at the back of her neck, held up by a cheap undecorated wooden hair stick pushed through. But the most distracting matter out of anything done in that moment of haste, were the shoes which slipped on effortlessly. She hadn’t wore a pair in ages, and did not even know if she could walk in them. Luckily, they did not have a heel and the bottom was thin, thus they did not feel much different from a bare feet if the uncomfortable tight feeling around the toes did not count.
Not given a time to do as much as breath, the nameless woman was once again rushed and dragged along like a children’s rag doll. Through the corridors with thin sliding doors decorated with faint painted mountains, forests and mythical creatures on her left and wide ceiling high open windows on her right—she got a glimpse of one of the inner yard of the palace, a beautiful stream running through and a round arching wooden bridge in the middle.
Whilst her mind had been distracted by the fleeting ever before seen beauty, the rushing came to an end and only then did she notice the tall dark double doors with round metal rings as handles. One of the women knocked the handle too large in her hand twice, the hard sound against the door rumbling through. With that, the door opened while the women straightened their postures and positioned themselves standing behind her. Letting her take the front of the stage. And as the doors were slowly pulled aside due to their heavy weight, a wide well lit hall opened in front of them. Many deep and vivid colors of deep blue, gold, silver and blood red showing the royal wealth and pillars carved into magnificent water dragons rising up as if climbing towards the ceiling. Men in their respective uniforms as advisers and counsellors kneeling on each side of a path left in the middle. And by the end of it, a throne sitting higher than anyone else. And a man with dark brown beard with strands of grey and long smooth hair brushed behind his ears sat relaxed, many layers of loose thin robes falling off his shoulders, one knee high up and an arm resting on top of it.
Bored.
Stepping in front of The Emperor of The Western Empire did not make her feel a single thing, nor did kneeling down whilst everyone had their eyes piercing through every inch of her body hardly made her nervous.
She only wanted to hear the verdict.
After all, a dead woman walking should not waste time on foolish unnecessary emotions.
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