Author note/s: Happy Holidays! Any errors will be rectified at a later time.


Lost and Found


On the day the prince lost his bride, a passerby found a newborn among the reeds. The parents were never located and the baby was passed off to a grieving couple that recently suffered a stillbirth. Tears of happiness spilled as they watched the baby latch on to her new mother's breast. On the seventh night from whence she was found, they gave her the name of the lost princess.

The family did not have much but what they lacked in material wealth, they more than made up for with an abundance of laughter. They raised their daughter with humility and love, teaching her to take pleasure in the simple things in life. From the soft tapping of the rain to the warm porridge that filled her belly.

Like most of their village, they worked out on the fields, toiling under the hot sun. When she was not helping her parents with work, the young girl would spent most of her time scavenging for herbs and mushrooms and observing the forest creatures. She also played with the other children, climbing bamboo stalks and chasing one another with childish abandonment. They had make-believe games and they were always the same - of the hero prince's exploits.

Because of her name, she was permanently delegated the role of the lost princess, forced to go into hiding in the middle of their game and the prince and his subjects would look for her. Unfortunately for them, she was great at it and they could spend all the way up to sunset but never catch sight of her. Sometimes it annoyed the other children but they had to begrudgingly give her praise as it suited the lore perfectly.

Seasons passed and it wasn't long until she blossomed into a young woman of notable beauty. She was never short of suitors but her willful nature proved too much for anyone who sought a docile bride. This was a constant source of dismay for her parents, worried about finding her a match. Their daughter, however, did not share their concerns, reveling in the freedom they had spoiled her with. She was in no hurry to give all that up for the whims of a husband.

Then one day, a stately old man wearing fine robes stopped by their home, seeking rest and a cup of tea. He was journeying to the capital to visit the royal palace. The couple loved hearing about the beloved emperor who resided there. He was a benevolent man, who led his kingdom with a sage mind and strong heart. It was only such a shame he had no intention of taking up a wife after all these years, not after what had happened to his intended.

The old gentleman shook his weary head, explaining how he had been in attendance to the wedding that never was. The emperor, who was then a young prince, was so in love with his bride that his feelings still remained unchanged even after her disappearance. She had possessed a spirit as lovely as her appearance. Every young girl then aspired to be like her.

The parents agreed, admitting to naming their daughter after her in the hopes she'd live up to the namesake but laughed, saying how it may have been for naught given how stubborn she ended up becoming.

In the middle of the conversation, the daughter returned from her errands and was immediately called in to greet their guest. The moment she came into view, the old man paled and his mouth dropped open. His eyes held firmly on the young woman's face, as though trying to capture every detail. Then, before anyone could mention his strange behavior, he shot up to his feet and rushed out of the house without a word. Dust clouds fogged the dirt road as he rode off on his horse. The family watched his hasty departure in insulted confusion. They simmered in anger for days until the rains came and they concerned themselves with saving the crops.

When the earth cracked dry weeks later and the villagers were airing out their futons, there were whispers of gossip that later scaled to widespread commotion. A large traveling party was approaching and curious folks lined the roads for the first sign of it. They gaped in awe when armored men atop fine horses came to view. Under the sun, they seemed to glow. They flanked one solitary palanquin. Whomever was inside had to be someone of great importance.

The family only needed a few minutes to sate their curiosities and returned to their home. The daughter resumed her chores and set out to collect water from the nearby river, but she also occupied time picking wild berries and scraping willow bark. As usual, she'd get carried away admiring flowers in the meadow and come home later than she intended. To her surprise, her mother was waiting for her at the back entry, wringing her hands, her face whiter than a radish.

It all happened so fast. Before the daughter could even process it, the bucket of water spilled on the earth along with the forest spoils as her mother dragged her into the house in a strong grip. When they reached a room, she saw that clothes and accessories had been laid out in wait. Her mother moved with the force of a typhoon, her frantic activity making it hard to breathe, let alone protest.

She stripped her daughter out of her sun-faded clothes and with a rag soaked in scented water, scrubbed the younger woman's skin until it blushed and gleamed like polished stone. The daughter's breath caught in her throat when she realized the garment she was made to wear. It was her mother's finest kimono, the one she was supposed to inherit someday. When she married. Her pulse raced and she tried to yell and swat at the hands arranging her hair. Her mother only spoke to shush her and despite the resistance, the task was completed.

There were important guests, the daughter was finally told, and she had to look her best. When she would greet them, she was to bow so low that her forehead touched the floor. The daughter did not like these instructions. In fact, she rolled her eyes, thinking her parents had been bedazzled by some high-handed mercantile family flaunting their wealth. She'd seen these tactics before, with suitors thinking they could charm a betrothal out of her with trinkets and sacks of rice.

Of course she would refuse. But since her mother went through all the effort, she supposed she could humor them awhile. She allowed herself to be led, and she waited behind the screen door where she counted three shadows of the occupants inside. Her mother went first, her voice jittery as she made the usual courtesies.

With a vexed sigh, the daughter forced on a smile as the panel slid further to include her presence. She only focused on her father's face as she bowed low with exaggerated grace, a secret mockery known only to her and her parents.

This is my daughter, her father said, clearing his throat, she's my only child, my treasure—Ashi.


Ashi lifted herself up to sit straight. Cupping her hands together in her lap, she imitated a popular print of a demure lady she had once looked at with the other village girls. She beamed at the guests, not bothering to care until a flicker of familiarity grabbed her. One of them was the old traveler from weeks ago. The one that had fled in a hurry.

You see, your majesty? She watched him speak. She's the spitting image.

Ashi's brows lowered in confusion. What in heavens did that mean? Then, another realization caught her and she felt her very blood turn to ice.

He had addressed the other person formally as 'your majesty'.

A style only used for…

She sucked in her breath as her gaze slowly crept to the other man. How on earth could she not have noticed his large frame straight away? He only sat there but he seemed to take up most of the space in the room and it suddenly felt as though the walls were closing in around them. He was solidly built and the way his sleeves draped over his wide shoulders and arms indicated there were no paddings of vanity. He looked to be around her father's age, perhaps a couple years less. Streaks of silver ran along the black of his tied hair. He stared at her with wide-eyed astonishment, noticeable lines creasing his forehead and corners of his eyes. Despite his age, he still had an attractive face.

He was quiet and unmoving, still staring. At her. Perhaps he'd been that way the whole time without her notice. Ashi slowly exhaled, inwardly telling herself not to be intimidated. He was the emperor. There was no need to be cow-eyed or terrified about it...unless she had unwittingly committed a slight that required royal intervention. She frantically ran a list of rejected suitors in her head, wracking up possibilities if one of them could be connected to the palace court. Perhaps an illegitimate child. But it still could not explain why the emperor would deign to come to such a remote area.

Ashi was so deep in her thoughts that she failed to notice that the emperor had shortened their proximity until he grasped both her hands into his. She whipped her head up in shock and found her gaze locked with the eyes of the greatest man in the country. They were filled with warmth and affection, his hands, though strangely rough and calloused against her skin, shared the same trait.

He finally spoke to her, uttering her name repeatedly like a string of words to a sacred prayer. His voice, deep and clear, reminded her of gentle ebbing waters and lonely forest echoes. His sincerity was so intense, it almost made her ache. The way he looked at her made her feel things… like something knotting under her ribs. She became aware of the stinging behind her eyes and the white-hot pain that seized her throat. For some reason, she had the sudden urge to cry. It was disgraceful, she shouldn't, not in his presence. But the tears still slipped as she tried to choke back a sob.

His arms came around her, wrapping her with gentleness that was both strange yet familiar. She clung to him, with a desperation that seemed to grow, a desperation to fill a sudden gap in her being she never knew existed. Until now.

Shhh… He whispered, his own voice strained with emotion as he tightened his embrace.

I'm here…

I finally found you…

My lost princess.


The End.