Crocodile Tears

There were but three more days until the supposedly auspicious one, but the Prince of Jin had not even returned back to the capital. Though we were banned from meeting before the marriage ceremony under the belief that it would spell bad luck, the fact that he hadn't bothered to come back early to prepare still stung.

It wasn't an issue of personal pride as much as it meant losing face for the kingdom of Liang. Was I that und.e.s.i.r.ed?

Per Southern custom, the groom was to write a personal poem on a fan as a gift for the bride, but what had I expected from the barbaric North? Though they were much more civilized than I imagined, they still obviously heavily weighed physical adeptness over the arts.

Even the Sui emperor was lackl.u.s.ter in composing at best, and it really showed. In fact, the first time A'Wu told me her brothers' names, I couldn't even hold in my laughter. Quite simply put, they were not much better than the ones the farmers back home used: Yong, Guang, Jun, Xiu, Jie. Corresponding respectively to brave, knowledgeable, handsome, excellent, and heroic, they seemed to be a collection of primitive admirable traits.

The only one that seemed to deviate a bit was my future husband's name, but A'Wu told me that it was only because her father changed it recently because of a prophecy. Before I could ask regarding the details, she was summoned away to help Princess LePing copy Buddhist scriptures.

And in all honesty, in the few days that she was gone, I missed her constant chattering. The palace seemed empty with only me and A'Huan, and the unspoken rules boxed us in. This morning of all was more silent than ever.

"Deng~Beng~Deng~" A crisp and lively melody broke the still air, weaving together thousands of emotions with the instrument's strings. Compared to the usually glum and slow-paced songs I have heard in the past, this one was by no standards a masterpiece but instead carried a sense of youthful hope. Hearing the sound, the troubles that had been plaguing me faded away.

There was just a certain attraction that drew me toward the song, a promise of freedom.

"A'Huan, wait here. I will be back," I rushed out of the room without any veil on, irrationally scared that the tune would disappear if there was any delay. It was so close yet so far, circling around the yard as if it was omnipresent.

I turned the corner. It was empty. I turned again. Not here either. In confusion, I looked to the pagoda.

Then I saw him.

Dressed in a flowing white gown, one leg casually crossed over the other, he seemed otherworldly. Never before had I seen such a… well… good-looking person in my entire life.

His features were not rough like that of a typical Northerner but not effeminate either. It was a strange combination, characterized by both sculpted lines and rounded angles, but somehow on his face, these conflicting descriptions fit perfectly like a work of Heaven.

Was he another Southerner trapped in this foreign palace? No, he couldn't be. His hair was slightly curled at the tips, bearing the tell-tale traits of a nomadic tribe and giving him an aura of unconstraint. Yet his features were too pretty to be chiseled by the harsh Northern winds.

Strumming the strings of the lute almost carelessly, he looked up. Two warm tea-colored eyes locked with mine, and only then did I catch myself staring. I could feel my face heat up from his intense gaze as he scrutinized me. Was he evaluating me?

"It took you longer than I expected to find me." I jumped at the sound of his voice. By any measure, it's deepness and roughness did not match his face. Even though I was used to the crude Northern accent by now, his was worse than most, almost reminding me of generals whose vocal cords have been eroded fro countless battle cries.

"So the Princess of Liang is an unresponsive one," he stated, smiling, an underlying thorn hidden in his words. He was not as angelic as his appearance, I realized as I snapped back to reality.

"At least I know my manners. Has no one taught you how to bow before a royal?" I glared while straightening my back. "Too bad that your music is much better than your attitude."

To my surprise, he followed through with my command without any protests, performing a perfectly-angled bow. "You are truly much different from what they said." Countless emotions swirled within his eyes, and I realized that I was incapable of fully interpreting them. The whole time, he acted as if he had read me like an open book.

"Are all Sui court musicians as such?"

"No," he responded as a sly smile lit up his face. "They're not all as handsome as me."

If I had been drinking water, I surely would have choked. While my first instinct was to chastise him, seeing his smug grin, I decided otherwise.

"Can you teach me how to play the lute?" I asked, flipping the frown I wore and smiling pleasantly. His eyes turned a shade darker, obviously taken aback by my sudden switch in attitude. I'm not so easy to read after all, I scoffed internally. But much to my surprise, he immediately caught on, beginning his own acts.

"Of course I am willing to enlighten Your Highness with my superior knowledge, but I am afraid that I will not remain for long. I was only brought back to wed," he explained. I suddenly felt a pang of pity for his future wife. Sure, he had a charming face, but he was so full of himself.

"In fact, I must really get going." He motioned to stand up, making sure to swing out his sleeves for dramatic effect. He set the lute he had been playing on the table. "A meeting gift."

"Wait, what is your name?" I could ask A'Wu if she has ever heard of this rude court musician.

"Ying." Leaving those words floating in the air, he left. He was almost out the door before he spun around and flashed a dazzling smile. "It was a p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e meeting you, Your Highness." Compared to the forced one earlier, this one was much more genuine.

The name was easily worse than any of the names I had mocked before. Ying. I repeated the name over again. It was an all-inclusive package, simultaneously meaning handsome, brave, and heroic, quite fitting in my opinion for his showy personality.

He was a prideful one, bearing the trademark of most artists and their habits of looking down on those that were less talented. With that arrogance of his, he wouldn't last in the palace. Even I, a newcomer, knew that much. The yard was quiet again.

I ran my hands through the lute's strings and immediately cringed. It sounded nothing like what he played, more nearing the feeble screeching of a newborn kitten than anything else.

"Princess, the etiquette teacher has arrived," A'Huan called to me, freeing my thoughts from the strange musician.

That night, a package arrived from the palace. The cloth wrapping was simple, nondescript at best. A short note with only two words reading "wedding gift" was attached. Even from two simple characters, it was apparent that the penmanship was excellent, neat but written with a vigorous touch. It was respectable, and I couldn't help but smile.

Wafting the air, the pleasant and calming odor of fresh ink seeped through. I lifted the folds, wondering what was in store. A fan bearing four lines of poetry came into view.

"Rain fell from the Heavens above, and water swept under the bridge. Stumbling across the girl's ribbon undone, it knotted two hearts into one."