One of the first times she encounter him he had been flirting with a concubine. Or perhaps charming a concubine would be a better way of putting it. The teenage boy, as he had been back then, was not a complete moron; contrary to popular belief. He knew better then to touch a woman whom was essentially spoken for. His complements and sweet demeanor at time had been more a spell of showing off. As if to say "look at me. aren't. I the nicest guy you've ever met?"
Never the less, Wang Yuanji had thought in that moment, he must be a bit stupid. Or brave. Or possibly both. A concubine was, in one sense or another, married to the Chinese emperor. Most men would have logically avoided even looking at such a powerful man's woman. Yet, Yuanji had to admit, swooning an off limits woman wasn't the same as seducing her.
So when the young lady of the Wang family entered her tent one evening to find Sima Zhao passed out on her bed she was alarmed, but far from surprised.
"My lord." She said smoothly, although a pulse in her temple gave away a more unpleasant mood.
"My lord." She repeated when he didn't respond. Her expression lingering dangerously between irritation and antagonism; Yuanji proceeded to flick his fore-head several rough times. Still, no movement.
"Zhao." Impatience ultimately swayed her to tug young man sharply by the hair. At this he finally stirred, with a grunt and childish look. Like a five year old that had been awoken by a very cold bucket of water.
"Well hello my lady." The usual lazy grin known to show itself across the young man's lips came to him once his eyes focused with consciousness; despite Yuanji matching his stare with an obvious glower. "Fancy meeting you here."
"It's not that surprising, my lord, considering this is my tent."
"Really? I must have taken a wrong turn. My nigh vision is horrible after all." The young man reasoned although, his expression betrayed claims of not knowing where he was and how he'd gotten there.
"I see. Well, now that you've realized your mistake, my lord, you can make your way to your own tent. I'd like to turn in for the evening and can't if there is someone else using my bed."
"Yeah- Sure- I could do that-" Zhao fumbled as he sat up limply. His smile slumping. "-Or- fact being- being exhausted myself- I might not make it back to my corner of camp without collapsing- we could share for the night."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. The distance to your tent is after all, roughly ten yards from mine. As I recall you mentioning several times in the past few days. If you are unable to make it, it's still relatively early. I'm sure there are plenty of men still about to pick you up if you fall."
"You're so cruel Yuanji." Zhao sighed, leaning back on his palms and folding his legs under himself. "If you're going to kick me out, the least you can do is walk me home."
"Lord Zhao."
"Yuanji."
"Get out. With all due respect."
The moment that fallowed felt like a standoff; with the challenging opponent slowly become aware she had no chance of victory. Although Zhao was getting to his feet he was doing so in a heavy, hesitant manor; his face dropping with a strange mix of disappointment and determination. The young man towering over her eyeing Yuanji with such ferocity that she forgot, for a moment, why he often came off as lackluster to some of the populous.
"We are getting married. You know, we'll have to learn to share a whole lot more than a tent soon enough."
"Until the actual ceremony is arranged our marriage is our parent's responsibility. There is no need for us to concern ourselves with such matters at this point in the arrangements."
She had always prided herself in an ability to sustain a natural compose in hard situations. Yet she was finding the more time she spent near Sima Zhao, the more Yuanji felt her poise quaking as if her skills in equanimity had been replaced with nervous agitation. Even as she retorted to Zhao's statement the young woman noted her blood pressure and body temperature rising. Folding her arms in an attempt to slow racing in her veins, Yuanji hoped gesture appeared more stubborn then tense. At this rate the Wang lady supposed she should be grateful her cheeks had yet to bubble with warmth and color.
"Well it really should be our responsibility. No matter what point in the arrangements it is. We are the one's going through with marriage after all." Braking eye contact for a moment Zhao crooked his neck, reaching back to tousle already sloppy hair at the back of his neck. His exterior, commonly uncustomary of a typical young lord or future respectable husband, become even more unorthodox.
Yuanji forced herself to swallow a giggle. Her humor, acting of its own accord; tickled by his silly appearance made additionally unconventional.
Zhao's eyes quickly relocated hers after sound was stifled. His brown irises shining as if he had heard her amusement despite its restraints.
Before Yuanji could get a word in, however, the young man was sighing and moving past her. Only addressing her again as he reached her tent's flapped entrance.
"I guess I can understand your reluctance. I mean I do have an odd reputation and our union being primarily our parents' decision. But we've know each other for years and I've never said I would rather be with anyone else."
Despite all her resistance it felt as if a candle lit behind the young lady's features and chest. Her expression pinking. In an attempt to somewhat veil flush and fluster Yuanji forced herself to face him with her usual stoic expression. Stifling a momentary urge to shy away from Zhoa's gaze by nibbling her tongue; forgoing a bit to her lower lip.
"You've also never said you want me as your bride." Is what the woman had meant to say but found her planned response forgotten when her eyes met his. She couldn't fathom what was in his pupils, or what exactly it was doing to her yet, Yuanji somehow felt like a beloved empress with that look directed toward her; one that had never and would never share her husband's bed with a concubine.
"Lord Zhoa-"
"Besides-" The young man seemed to stumble over his voice for just a moment before his lax nature shown through. "Who wouldn't want a wife like you? Sure, I know you could and probably would kill me given the motivation, but it would be an honored death considering how cute you are angry. I can't wait to see how cute you are on the wedding-"
Sima Zhoa had vanished Yuanji's endearment with his fist sentence. The last is what led to her drawing a dagger from it's hiding place beneath her cloths. She had only meant to through one blade as a warning, the weapon intentionally just missing the young lords left shoulder. Yet more soon fallowed, chasing Zhoa out of the tent and into the vision of alarmed soldiers when he responded to her indicial threat.
"Where do you keep those? I suppose that's also something I'll find out on our wedding night but-"