The Candidates

Dowager Empress Xiao adjusted herself in her seat and without asking, her head lady-in-waiting repositioned her headdress to give it better stay on her thinning hair.

“Thank you, Lingli.”

Her lady-in-waiting bowed and returned to her position. Waiting was hard on them; the dowager empress’s knees hurt if she sat for too long without stretching them– they were already starting to ache, and the others hadn’t even arrived– and her head lady-in-waiting worried that her lady would rather keep her pride than her joints intact. Neither spoke, and the air in the empress dowager’s chambers grew stale and thick.

The empress dowager was, in general, a very patient woman, but even she was starting to get antsy over the arrival of her guests. She was about to ask Lingli to either search for them herself or ask one of the other servants to do it when the door finally opened.

Lady Liang Hou entered first– the eldest of the three, she was the only one the dowager empress had actually met before. She greeted the dowager empress politely, but still swiveled her head back towards the door to make sure Lady Liang Yongtai, the next oldest, entered without issue. Yongtai greeted the dowager empress and smiled briefly at Hou before taking her own seat, her lady-in-waiting smoothing down her skirt. Their fathers were brothers, but the two could’ve been sisters– their profiles were nearly identical, especially as they both tried to mask their anxieties with a veneer of serenity. While Hou had been a low-ranking concubine for the former emperor, Yongtai never had; she’d previously served as her cousin’s head lady-in-waiting, and so wasn’t as accustomed to performing the formalities herself.

If Hou could have reached out and grabbed Yongtai’s hand for encouragement and support, she would have. The dowager empress was known to be kind and gentle, but she was still the most powerful woman in the nation, and Yongtai, as sweet as she could be, was also impulsive, and if they were to be the new emperor’s highest ranked concubines, it was essential that she behave. Hou hoped desperately that she behaved. Even though they’d just arrived, Yongtai already seemed distracted, biting her lip and glancing back and forth between the door and the empress dowager.

The final candidate, Lady Zhang San, popped her head through the door before entering, and Yongtai’s lady-in-waiting hurried to her side, helping her to her seat. Lady Zhang San had passed herself off as Yongtai’s maternal cousin in order to hopefully impress the dowager empress, but her human disguise wasn’t perfect. When Yongtai had found the young alien in Hou’s quarters, raving and gushing about the sweet boy who had spoken such beautiful poetry to her when she had taken the form of a sparrow, she’d created an uncanny visage of a human person and had honestly scared Yongtai half to death. Just as Hou had worked to train Yongtai into a perfect and conventional concubine, Yongtai had worked to train San to be a decently conventional human being so she could meet the Earth boy who stole her alien heart. Yongtai felt as if she were holding her breath to see if San could pull it off. San felt the same way. Yongtai had warned her it would be hard enough to pass as human; to pass under such extreme scrutiny as would be required of her were she a high ranking concubine? It would truly be a feat.

Lingli poured all four women a cup of ginger tea and the empress dowager took tiny sips to postpone the discussion. It wasn’t that she didn’t think the three girls in front of her would make good daughters-in-law; her advisors had assured her that they were clever, beautiful, and of good breeding and from what little time she’d spent with them, Empress Dowager Xiao agreed, even if San did somehow drain her entire boiling cup in seconds with no recoil. It was what she needed to ask of them without actually asking that would be difficult. Her son, Bakin, was certainly kind, noble, brave– and handsome, although she acknowledged she was biased. He would do his duty as emperor well. He would absolutely care for and respect these women, and, when asked, would profess his love for whichever of them gave him a crown prince.

It would be a lie though, the empress dowager knew. Bakin had no desire for women whatsoever– theirs would be relationships of mutual marital duty. She needed to know they would be content with that, especially as an imperial concubine could never take a lover. It was a difficult subject to broach.

Hou broke the silence first. As the eldest (she assumed– Yongtai’s mysterious maternal cousin that Hou had never met certainly seemed younger), she felt the need to prove to the two younger candidates that they deserved to be in this sphere. “My lady, thank you for inviting us to your quarters.”

“You are very welcome. Is your tea sweet enough? I can have Lingli fetch honey, if you would like.”

San immediately looked towards Yongtai, who shook her head as surreptitiously as she could. Since San had never tasted honey, there was no way to guarantee that she would respond quietly– if she liked it enough, she might lose her face. “No thank you,” she said instead, smiling in the way Yongtai taught her. “The tea is wonderful, my lady.” San was antsy– Hou and Yongtai had grown up learning patience, diplomacy, etiquette and formalities, but San had grown up in the wild of the stars. Still, though, she would give it up for the chance to be with her poet, and she would act politely during this meeting in order to do so. She could do this.

The empress dowager put down her cup and steeled her nerves. Really, there was nothing to worry about. One of these girls had already been an ignored concubine; surely, the other two would learn to appreciate the position and her son as well. “As I’m sure you are already aware,” she began, and she appreciated that Lingli stepped a little bit closer, as if she knew her lady needed her support, “you three are in the position of being considered as candidates for the highest ranked concubines of the new emperor. Not only has your character been attested for by your families, but your continued dedication to the nation has been noted in the way–”

She was, briefly, cut off by a sharp snort from San, which turned into a fake cough when Yongtai stepped on her foot.

“A thousand pardons, my lady,” said San. “I seem to have swallowed my own spit wrong.”

Yongtai winced– that was certainly not the way they had practiced speaking to the empress dowager. Next to her, Hou grabbed Yongtai’s hand beneath the table.

The empress dowager didn’t miss a beat, however, and politely asked “Lingli, would you fetch some more tea?”

“Of course, my lady.”

Although she did feel more confident when Lingli was by her side, the empress dowager had to admit that the bluntness of the hopeful concubine’s language had surprised her enough to shake off some of her nerves. “My son will make a kind, wise emperor. He will make as good a husband as well. There is, however, a sensitive matter which, as his mother, I wish to discuss before final arrangements for your ascension are made.”

Hou held her breath. A sensitive matter could mean almost anything. Perhaps the emperor had a secret bastard child that had been cast from the palace. He could have a violent nature; Hou glanced at Yongtai and squeezed her left hand, hoping that wasn’t the case. The emperor could be an imposter, or have three nipples, or have committed treason against his late father and would expect silence from his wives. Hou’s heart raced and she loosened her grip slightly on Yongtai’s hand so her cousin wouldn’t feel it.

San, on the other hand, sat up straighter. There was no more sensitive matter than being a shapeshifting alien– maybe having a shared secret would bring them together. It could be just his penchant for poetry– that would be disappointing, since San already knew, but the way he had spoken to her, even as just a sparrow, was beautiful enough that if that turned out to be the case, she would be happy still. Maybe the prince was half alien and they could share a life both here and among the stars! She grabbed Yongtai’s right hand to calm herself down.

Between them, Yongtai waited for the empress dowager to continue. The palace was so laced with etiquette and formalities that she was already sure the secret wasn’t anything interesting. It was probably something dumb, like he preferred to wear tiger-head shoes or couldn’t tie his own head wrap or something. A marriage to the emperor was like a marriage to any other man, except with this man, she wouldn’t see him every day, and the food was probably better. Plus, she would be with Hou and San, and that made this boring tea worth it.

The dowager empress assessed their faces– they all had the same forced, fake, politely interested look. It made sense, if they were cousins that they would have learned etiquette in the same place. “My son will hopefully have a long and productive reign; however, all reigns must come to an end, and his will need to end with an heir. I have faith that my son will provide an heir for the nation, but it will be because it is his duty to do so, not because of a lust or desire.”

She sat back in her seat and took a sip of tea. It was possible, if these girls were as clever as they had been advertised, that she would not have to explain further. Lingli appeared a moment later and refreshed their cups– the look she gave the dowager empress told her not only that she had overheard, but she also approved of the diplomacy and tact with which the empress dowager had spoken. Empress Dowager Xiao breathed a silent sigh of relief.

All three concubine candidates realized the undercurrents of what the empress dowager told them, albeit in three different speeds. Hou caught on first. It wasn’t much of a surprise– the few times she’d seen the former Crown Prince at events and parties, he’d feigned polite interest in the dancers, the performers, but had seemed a lot more personally involved in speaking with one of the younger members of the Royal Guard. It was a bit of a disappointment– he was, after all, quite handsome, and as a concubine, Hou would never be able to marry someone else, someone who would love her, be attracted to her. There was a pang of regret that she fought to keep from her face, but just as soon as it arrived, it left. If this was how she best served her country and her family, so be it. He would treat her and Yongtai with respect and kindness, and their positions and stations would be preserved. She could live with that. Hou only hoped that Yongtai wasn’t too disappointed– they’d never spoken about it, but her cousin was still young enough to believe in romantic love.

As Yongtai realized what the empress dowager was implying, relief spread from her shoulders down through all her muscles. That the emperor would hardly want anything to do with her was the best news she’d heard all day. She had always felt more comfortable in the presence of homosexual men anyway– her favorite gardner back home had no interest in women, and she’d always thought he’d make the best husband. Theirs could be a relationship of respect and friendship rather than performance. All things considered, this was the best position she could be in. Hopefully Hou wasn’t too disappointed. She glanced at her cousin on her left, who had kept a straight face. She then glanced at her “cousin” on her right, who had not, and she stomped on San’s foot.

Before getting her foot stomped, San tried to process what the empress dowager was saying. Yongtai had, of course, given her the rundown on sex– both the action and the various dimorphic differences that animals on Earth have– but it still took her a few moments to remember that humans occasionally had affection-based preferences based on those dimorphisms. It was a strange system, but what could one do in the face of true love? When her prince had looked at her, even in her bird form, and spoken such beautiful words, it had been the first time San had understood the wonders of life on Earth. She had seen the world in the miraculous way he saw it, for just a brief second, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to see it through his eyes again. When Yongtai stomped her foot, San realized that she’d been wrinkling her nose. She smoothed her lips and filtrum back into the smile she and Yongtai had spent hours practicing in the mirror and met the empress dowager’s eyes, and even though she had been assured that humans could not read minds, she still tried to think with all her might about how much San would love, care for, and be loyal to the empress dowager’s son, even if she didn’t technically have to.

Empress Dowager Xiao looked up at Lingli, who nodded again– Lingli had always been better at reading people. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief; being more explicit seemed an invasion of Bakin’s privacy. While the girls were certainly masking their truest feelings, they didn’t seem too terribly upset or disappointed. She relaxed back against her seat and stretched her knees as covertly as she could– her nerves had hid how much they hurt.

Hou facilitated the conversation from there, keeping the tone light while still highlighting her diplomatic skills and directing questions and commentary evenly just as she was trained. For once, the impulsive Yongtai was mostly quiet, and although Hou worried it was due to disappointment, in reality Yongtai was just happy to be able to live out her life relatively unencumbered by a man. San did her best to be polite and poised as practiced, but she couldn’t help but frequently ask the empress dowager about her son– his likes, his dislikes, how he spent his time. While the Empress Dowager Xiao was surprised to learn that San already knew about his penchant for poetry, she was relieved that San saw his peculiar interests as a positive.

As any diplomatic tea would, the conversation stretched out long after any of the invited members had anything interesting to discuss. Finally, with a pleading look from her lady, Lingli stepped in and requested that their meeting conclude so that the empress dowager could still bathe before it was too dark out. The concubine candidates left in the same order in which they arrived. Hou, while still mourning her ideal of a true love, was at least satisfied that Yongtai would be taken care of instead of advantage of. Yongtai was already thinking about how she would arrange and decorate her palace and who she would invite to visit– so much so that she almost tripped over the threshold and her lady-in-waiting had to dart her arm out to steady her. San exited last, smiling at her future mother-in-law until the very last moment. The meeting had gone better than she’d hoped, and, due to her nature, the empress dowager’s worries were inconsequential to San. Unconsciously, her features began to morph as they walked, and when she, Hou, and Yongtai arrived back in their temporary quarters, Hou was shocked to find that San’s ruqun was now straining at the shoulders trying to accommodate her new, broader frame.