01: The Arrogant Prince
Ling Yao, 12th prince of Xing, looks up and frowns. The sky is gray, and the bright sun is hidden behind layers of depressing Nimbus clouds. It looks like he will not be playing outdoors today. The eight year old prince walks back to his palace—his own safe haven—and sits at the stairs, sulking. Servants mill around, watering flowers, changing curtains, preparing food, doing things that servants normally do. No one pays attention to the sulking prince with the sour expression. Hardly anyone ever does.
"Young lord, may I ask you why you are sulking? Do you need anything?" Ling looks up, expression still sour, and sees a grown up lady. He recognizes her. She is Mei Fan, one of the high servants in the castle.
"I want to play outside, but the weather won't clear," Ling states simply, looking directly at Mei Fan's eyes.
"I cannot do anything about it, then," Mei Fan replies, "Better play inside then, young lord, or you might catch a cold,"
Ling sniffs indignantly. He is the 12th prince of Xing and no one is supposed to defy him. "I want to play outside. I can do what I want,"
"No, you cannot," Mei Fan says softly.
Ling's eyes narrow, and he says with a sneer, "You cannot tell me what to do,"
"Yes, I can," Mei Fan says patiently.
This only makes Ling madder, "A servant like you has no right to say that. If you are going to talk back to me like that, then you can leave this castle. Permanently,"
A triumphant smirk appears on the arrogant young prince's face when the lady is unable to respond. Mei Fan stares at him, regarding him with mild curiosity, before she heaves a suffering sigh. She removes her cloak from her shoulders and put them around the little prince, who gawks at her quite openly, "Alright, then, young one. But don't blame me if you come with down with flu tonight,"
Then she's leaving, walking away from him with slow, careful strides. He looks at her back, small hands reaching to clutch the cloak that she had wrapped around his shoulders. Now, this arrogant little prince wouldn't recognize kindness even if it hits him in the face. So he shrugs, brushing off the incident, and walks out of the door into the wide gardens of the Yao Clan's castle. The wind was chilly, and the sun still hasn't come out. This annoys Ling Yao immensely.
"Why won't you come out, you blasted sun?" He says, staring hard at the sky, as if expecting the sun to come out just because he ordered it to.
The sun stays behind the clouds, not even moving an inch. The prince trudges further into the gardens, ignoring the biting cold of the wind. Mei Fan's cloak keeps him warm enough. Then he hears voices. He peeks out from behind a thick bush and sees five kids his age sitting on the grass by the pond. Three boys and two girls. Servant's kids, undoubtedly.
"Eh… the weather is funny, today," One of the boys say, "It's a nice change,"
"Grandma does not know I am out here," One of the girls sigh deeply, "She will scold me once she finds out, I am sure,"
The other girl laughs, "It is what makes this exciting, right?"
"I'm not so sure," The first girl says, but she is smiling.
"Hmm…do you think the prince gets to go out even if the weather is bad?" Another boy asks.
"Probably, he'd only bribe the servants with higher positions, and then they'd be all over him,"
Ling Yao flushes a deep red. These kids are talking about him behind his back.
"Oh, really?" The second girls sighs, "He is so lucky, being born as the Yao clan's successor. He gets to do anything he wants, and he gets anything he wants, too. He's so lucky it almost make me envious,"
"You should not be envious, Xiao Jin," One of the boys says, then he snickers, "Have you seen the prince? Such a sorry excuse for a boy, if you ask me. He's thinner than a bamboo, and I doubt that he can even beat up a marshmallow. He is pretty sickly, too, and most of the servants hate him. They say he is an arrogant little runt. Father says they only put up with him because he is a prince,"
Ling Yao feels sick; sick to the stomach. Is what the boy saying true? That the servants really hate him? Sure, he isn't the nicest little boy around, but he knows he is not mean enough to incite such hurtful words from the servants. He is not arrogant; not arrogant; not arrogant. He decides that he doesn't want to hear those words again.
"Eh…that is not nice,"
"What's not nice, Lan Fan?"
"What you just said," A girl, Lan Fan, says, "Have you ever even met the prince?"
"I have seen him,"
"But have you talked to him before?"
"No, I don't see a need to,"
"Then you should not talk about him like that behind his back," Lan Fan says, a little hesitantly, "My grandmother says he is just a troubled child. She says he just needs friends, or something to look forward to,"
"What is your problem, Lan Fan?" The boy sneers, "Are you teaming up with the prince just because he is royalty? Oh, I think I get it. You are just like your grandmother, kissing up to royalty to reap benefits,"
Lan Fan looks like she wants to cry, but is desperately holding her tears back, "My grandmother is not like that. She is just kind, and I look up to her. I'm not teaming up with anyone,"
"No, you're teaming up with the prince because he is royalty," The boy almost spits, "It doesn't really matter these days, does it? It doesn't matter if you are an arrogant runt not, as long as you have gold hanging from your ears!"
That is when Ling Yao, 12th prince of Xing, steps out from the bushes, face red from both anger and embarrassment. The kids are frozen in fear and shock. He stares at them, eyes cold and angry.
"I am not arrogant!" He yells, like he does when he is having a tantrum.
One yell from him is enough to make the kids spring from the ground and run away screaming. Ling Yao breathes in and out, trying to wash away the anger, resentment, and humiliation bubbling inside him. He slowly reaches for his ears and removes the gold hoops hanging there. He now thinks of it as a symbol for arrogance, a word he does not want to hear again.
"Ahh!"
He looks up, and spots one of the kids lying sprawled on the grass.
He squints slightly, and recognizes her. He walks towards her, and offers his hand. She looks up unsurely, fear still evident in her dark eyes. But she defended him from the boy back there, and Ling feels grateful. So when she still doesn't accept his hand, he reaches for it instead, ignoring the gasp coming from her.
"Thank you," She says meekly as he pulls her up, "I tripped on a rock. I feel so embarrassed,"
'Your embarrassment can't even be compared to mine', Ling thinks darkly, but he says, "It's quite alright. Nothing to be embarrassed about. If I heard it right, your name is Lan Fan, right?"
"Yes," She says quietly.
The silence stretches on for a few seconds, then she speaks again.
"I am sorry, my friends don't usually talk about you behind your back. It won't happen again, Prince Ling Yao…"
"Call me 'young lord'," Ling says with a shrug, "It's what everyone else calls me. It's less of a mouthful that way. And you do not need to apologize. If anyone will apologize, it should be that boy. He talks too much,"
"And none of it is true," Lan Fan says quickly, "He mostly spits out nonsense,"
Ling Yao gives her a pointed look, "You are defending him,"
"Huh?"
"You are afraid that I will punish him," Ling says simply, "Even after he criticized both you and your grandmother, you still fear for his safety,"
"He is still my friend," She says, her dark eyes are big and innocent, and that's when Ling Yao decides that she knows very little about the world. Then she adds softly, "Us servants stick together as much as we can. All we have is each other,"
And that's when Ling Yao decides that he is wrong. She is just naïve.
"I will not do anything to him," He says to her.
She sighs and smiles shyly, "Thank you, young lord,"
Then she bows to him, like most of the servants do. He only nods before he walks away. He does not turn around until he reaches the castle again. He walks back in and ignores the servants as they fuss over him, removing Mei Fan's cloak from his shoulders and brushing fallen leaves from his dark hair. He climbs up the stairs until he reaches the third floor, where his room is located. He enters, sits down on his bed, and thinks.
Arrogant runt. Thinner than a bamboo. Can't even beat up a marshmallow. The words burn him, and he actually feels something painful in his chest. He places his hand on it, but the pain doesn't go away. It feels like it comes from inside him, and he doesn't know how to treat wounds that he doesn't even see. How he ever got wounded from the inside, he does not know.
He lifts himself from the bed and approaches the wide mirror that occupies half of his room's left wall. His arms are thin, they don't have muscles, and he hates to admit it to himself, but he knows he can't fight well. I need to train, he thinks, and he knows that he cannot train until he is ten years old, but he cannot wait any longer.
Night eventually falls, and Ling Yao refuses to come down for dinner. The servants try their best to persuade him, but he has no interest in coming down and seeing the faces of the servants who think of him so badly. But he is hungry, and he knows he should eat. But he wills himself to fight it. He will not come down; he will not; he will not.
"Young lord?" The voice comes from the other side of the thick wooden doors of his bedroom, and he recognizes it.
"Mei Fan," He says.
"I am coming in, young lord," And she does, carrying a wooden tray with food on it. The smell is enough to make his stomach rumble. He scowls when she laughs.
"It's no use pretending to hide it, I know you are hungry," She sits beside him, on his bed, without asking for his permission. "Did you get sick, young lord?"
Yes, he feels very sick, but not in the way she thinks. So he just nods.
"I did tell you not to play outside," She admonishes, stirring the soup with a spoon. "Not eat up, young lord. You need all the strength you can get,"
He hesitates, but he knows he is hungry, and he can feel it. So he eats the food. And as he did, he feels strange emotions starting to stir in him. Then he realizes how hurt he was and how desperately lonely he feels right now.
"Ah, don't cry now, young one," Mei Fan says, wiping his cheeks with the hems of her skirt, "Your tears will make the soup salty, and the cook did try so hard to make it sweet,"
And that is all. She comforts him, and talks to him, yet she does not ask questions. It is as if she knows; as if she understands him. Of course, he is royalty so she cannot just interfere with his personal problems, but she's there, and she understands, and she knows what he's going through. For a brief moment, he feels like his mother is with him again. When he finally lies down to sleep, she sits on a chair by his bed and sings him lullabies with her clear voice.
When she is finished, she smiles.
"You remind me a lot of my grandchild, young lord," She says, then she stands up and dusts her skirts with her hands, "I apologize, but I must go back now. My little granddaughter has a hard time sleeping if I don't sing to her,"
Ling Yao nods, and he wants to say thank you, but he can't. Instead he says, "Good night,"
Mei Fan nods, "Goodnight, young lord. I will see you tomorrow,"
-x-
Ling eats breakfast at the dining hall the next day. He avoids the servants' eyes as does, and he tries to finish the soup and potato croquet as fast as time would allow. He leaves the castle immediately after this, dying to escape the servants' penetrating gazes. Thankfully, the weather is fine today, and the sun is up and about. But Ling does not notice this. Instead, he sits on the stairs and begins to sulk, pretty much what he did yesterday. He watches—with a very sour expression—as small ants make their way towards a small hole at the edge of the stairs, looking like a mini hundred-man army.
When he hears a rustle coming from the bushes, he looks up and sees a girl with long black hair. He recognizes her. Her name is Xiao Jin, one of Lan Fan's companions from yesterday. She sees him too, and he holds her gaze with his cold eyes, as if daring her to stare back. But she doesn't let their eyes meet, and she scampers away from the garden, ducking her head, her face beet red.
Ling Yao smirks smugly at this. 'Yes, you should be ashamed of yourself', He thinks.
He gains a newfound confidence at this, so he hoists himself up from the stairs and walks around the garden. He carefully avoids the hundred-man ant army as he heads towards the pond. The same place where he found the other kids yesterday. But when he peeks from behind a bush, the place is empty. The water is still. No one came here today.
Ling sits at the edge of the pond and tosses a small pebble, watching ripples form as it sinks to the bottom. Then he hears a rustling sound again. He turns around and sees Xiao Jin, who looks positively horrified.
He holds her gaze like before, but now he remarks coolly, "What do you want?"
Xiao Jin shakes her head, and she looks down on the ground, shaking.
Ling's voice is cold and hard now, "As the successor of the Yao clan, I forbid you to ever step foot in this part of the garden again. If you do, I will have to drown you in this pond,"
Xiao Jin bursts into tears, and she nods her head rapidly, keeping her gaze on the grass.
"Xiao Jin!"
Ling recognizes that voice. It belongs to that other girl from yesterday; Lan Fan.
She emerges from the bushes, carrying a small woven basket filled with blueberries. Ling Yao does not know why, but he stiffens.
"Xiao Jin?" She approaches the other girl, and sees that she is crying. "Xiao Jin! Whatever is the matter?"
Xiao Jin only mutters an incoherent string of words that Ling does not understand, but he knows that Lan Fan does, because she turns to his direction immediately, "Young lord?"
He holds her gaze, "What?"
A look of disbelief crosses Lan Fan's face, "Why did you scold Xiao Jin?"
Ling lifts his chin up high when he replies, "It's only natural to scold troublemakers,"
"Xiao Jin did not do anything!" Lan Fan retorts, no hesitation evident in her voice, "She did not even insult you behind your back! Didn't you hear the whole conversation?"
Ling stiffens at this, but he refuses to back out, "Then she should not be acting so guilty. Only the cat whole stole the fish should be avoiding his owner's eyes like that,"
Lan Fan does not reply, but Ling knows he did not win. She just stares at him, disbelief and disappointment clearly on her face. Why is she disappointed? He does not know. But he feels disappointed as well. And he also does not know why. He does not know why, but he still feels like he should not let this mere servant's child beat him in an argument. He is a prince, and he can do anything he wants. So he stands up and looks at her smugly.
"If you want, I can ban both of you from entering this part of the garden,"
Lan Fan just looks at him. Xiao Jin's face is still on her shoulder. Ling tries not to look directly at Lan Fan, so keeps his gaze plastered on the crying girl instead. This makes him feel guilty. So he shifts his eyes to Lan Fan's face. This makes his face heat up, though he does not know why. So he looks at the grass instead. Much better.
When the silence stretches on, Ling Yao gives up. He turns around, not bothering to look back.
"I am going to go and have my lunch," He says with a sneer as he trudges away, apparently forgetting that lunch time is still three hours away, "I do not want to see your faces when I get back here,"
'Stupid servant girl and her stupid, big, innocent eyes', he thinks, face even sourer than before, all the while feeling Lan Fan's gaze still boring through his back.
But then Lan Fan calls out, "Good morning, young lord, I hope you slept well,"
That's when he runs away, trying to make sense of the thoughts jumbling inside his head.
-x-
"You are sulking again, young lord,"
He looks up and sees Mei Fan, holding a tray of blueberries.
Mei Fan tilts her head to the side, "Is something bothering you, young lord?"
Ling looks down at his palms, "Nothing,"
Mei Fan only sighs, "It doesn't seem like it, to me,"
Ling Yao only scowls, and stays silent. He waits for Mei Fan to leave, because he does not want to talk today. He just wants to sit down and sulk his problems away. Though he does not even know what the real problem is. Mei Fan sighs and eventually leaves, deeming him 'too impossible' at the moment. He sits at the stairs, sulking like the snotty eight year-old that he is, ignoring the servants' futile attempts to cheer him up. When they ask him why, he does not respond. Not out of rudeness, but because he does not know the answer himself.
After dinner, Ling bolts out of the castle, feeling the inexplicable need to be outdoors. He ignores the servants that are calling out to him.
"You will catch a cold, young lord!"
He runs out of the castle with a lamp in hand before the servants decide to chase him. The darkness is overwhelming, and Ling has never been particularly fond of the dark. It makes him think of his own future; uncertain and unknown, like how one feels when cloaked in total darkness. He stumbles his way to the part of the garden where the pond lies, and sits at the edge, placing the lamp on the space beside him.
For him, being indoors too much is pretty much the same as drowning. It's suffocating, and he can't breathe with all the penetrating gazes being directed at him.
When he looks up, he thought that the stars have inexplicably floated closer to the ground, but he realizes that they are only fireflies. He removes his boots and dangles his feet at the edge of the pond before lying down on the grass, folding his arms behind his head, cushioning it. The sight of the fireflies dancing overhead, the scent of grass and wildflowers under his body, and the feeling of the cold water lapping against his feet lulls him to sleep.
At first, he thinks he is dreaming.
"Young lord,"
Who on earth is calling him?
"Young lord?"
He recognizes the voice now, it belongs to that girl. Lan Fan.
"Young lord!"
Why is she annoying him even in his dreams?
"Young lord!"
The great mother dragon of Xing must really hate him for—
"Young lord!" This time, he is positively sure she is shouting directly at his ear.
He bolts upright, and nearly shrieks when he sees her pale face, staring at him. So it wasn't a stupid nightmare. He rubs his eyes awake and points his index finger at her.
"What are you doing here?" He splutters, "Didn't I tell you that you are banned here?"
Lan Fan tilts her head to the side, confused, "You mean you meant it?"
He gives her a look of utter disbelief, "What makes you think I didn't? I mean everything I say!"
Lan Fan looks like she doesn't believe him. Instead she says, "What are you doing here so late at night, young lord?"
"I should ask you the same question," He replies, stifling a yawn.
She hesitates at first, "I like it here,"
Then she raises her hand upwards and gestures at the fireflies dancing overhead. "I like looking at the fireflies. They look a lot like stars. Tonight the sky is starless because the clouds are covering them. That's why I came down here to look at the fireflies instead,"
"Well, what's stupid," Ling remarks.
Lan Fan looks affronted, "Why so?"
"What makes you think that fireflies can replace stars?" Ling says rather smugly, "It's not like water can replace wine, can it? If it's not the same thing, then why go for it?"
Lan Fan starts to fumble with the hems of her skirt, "It's better than nothing. Water won't be as delicious as wine, but at least you won't dehydrate to death,"
"You think like a servant," Ling says, chin up high.
But Lan Fan only smiles, "I know,"
Ling scowls, because he does not understand. And he doesn't like it when he doesn't understand. He expected Lan Fan to storm away, offended, but she only gave him a small 'I know' as an answer. Ling does not understand. And it makes him feel angry. But he is a prince, so surely Lan Fan knows that she cannot just 'storm away'. That answer must be an act of politeness, or fear of his royal status. Yes, that must be it.
"I will ban you from my castle if you continue this!" Ling splutters out, jabbing a finger in her direction.
"Continue what?" Lan Fan looks genuinely confused.
Ling falls silent, then he crosses his arms to his chest and looks at the opposite direction.
"I—" Lan Fan blinks, "Did I do something wrong…?"
"Yes!"
"What?"
"I don't know!"
Lan Fan frowns and examines him, eyebrows narrowing. Ling holds her gaze for a few seconds, then he starts to feel weird, like a really hairy spider is creeping up on the back of his neck. That's when he looks away.
They sit side by side, staring at the glowing reflections of the fireflies at the clear surface of the pond. Ling decides that he prefers Lan Fan this way: not talking to him and not staring at him. He finds her eyes unnerving, and he finds her words confusing. But he feels her silent presence beside him comforting, and for the first time in years, he does not feel lonely.