19 September 1959
At last Li's tears subsided, and Lucien gently disentangled himself from her, running his hand over her hair and smiling down at her in wonder. He did not know how this miracle had come to pass, and while he was grateful to see her he knew that whatever had brought her to his door must have been a grave calamity indeed. The guards were still watching the scene warily, and though he could not see her he knew that Joy must have been lingering on the stairs behind him, that her curiosity would not allow her to depart until she learned what was afoot. There were eyes everywhere in the castle; likely at least a few maids and underbutlers were watching in the wings, as well. So long as Lucien had an audience, he intended to use it.
"This is my daughter," he announced, turning to face the guards with one hand resting protectively on Li's shoulder. "She is your princess, and the heir to this kingdom. You will treat her with respect. Stand down." As one the guards moved, relaxing their stances and catching their hands behind their backs, rather than resting on their sidearms, and Lucien breathed a sigh of relief.
"I know you've had a long journey," he said to Li softly, in her own tongue. "Do you need to rest, or can we talk now?"
Li sighed and scrubbed at her cheeks before she answered. "I think we should speak now. But I am very tired."
"Too tired for the stairs, I imagine," Lucien said, mostly to himself. There was a comfortable parlor on the lower level where they could retire together, and while they spoke perhaps the servants could prepare one of the guest suites for Li. She was heavily pregnant, and he did not like the thought of her trudging all the way up to the royal quarters in her condition. Matthew had told him once that Thomas had refused to hear of installing an elevator in the castle, but Lucien was beginning to think that would be a fine idea.
"You're dismissed," he said, switching back to his own native language as he addressed the bewildered looking guards. "But I need someone to prepare the best suite we have on this level, and take the Princess's things there. And bring some bloody tea to the blue room." Neither of those tasks were exactly within the guards' purview, but it was to the invisible staff watching from hidden doorways Lucien had spoken, and he heard the scurry of feet in response to his command. The guards turned and departed, Matthew nodding to Lucien in acknowledgement as he herded his men back out onto the grounds.
"This way, my darling," he said to Li, offering her his arm. She took it at once, though her brow furrowed when a young maid appeared and took her heavy rucksack. Of course, he realized; she had not understood his command, and did not know why her things were being removed. "It's all right," Lucien assured her, and then they began to make their way - very slowly - across the foyer towards the parlor that was affectionately known as the blue room. As they went Lucien looked up towards the stairs just in time to see Joy, her face like a thundercloud, turn and began the ascent towards her own suite. That would be a problem for tomorrow, he decided; all he wanted, in that moment, was to sit somewhere quiet and speak to his daughter, and Joy's ruffled feathers did not concern him in the slightest. She was hardly the only person who had not been informed of the existence of Lucien's daughter, the truth of his first marriage; she was hardly special, in that regard, had hardly been the sole recipient of Lucien's duplicity.
The blue room was aptly named; the walls were painted in a rich royal shade, the soft carpet the pale color of a winter sky. The paintings on the walls accentuated the theme, and so did the upholstery of the plush chairs and sofas scattered about. There was a drinks cart in the corner and though Lucien's hands itched for a glass of whiskey to hold he abstained, knowing that tea was coming, and that it would be best if he kept his head for the conversation that was coming. He guided Li to one of the soft sofas, and she sank into it gratefully, leaning back and closing her eyes for a moment while her hand came to rest on the swell of her belly. While she settled herself Lucien could do no more than stare at her, troubled by her wan expression, the paleness of her face, her dirty shoes and threadbare coat. The weather had turned cool, and the seas were turbulent this time of year; if she had come by boat, which he supposed she must have done, it must have been a terribly unpleasant journey. What could possibly have driven her to such an undertaking, given her condition, given that she'd been rather adamant that she had no intention of leaving China behind?
"You're staring at me," she murmured to him softly, her eyes still closed. Lucien could not help but smile at that; she was a dear girl, and though she was always so careful with her words he had come to learn that she was clever, too. She and Jean would have got on famously, he thought, and the smile died on his lips.
"I'm sorry," he answered, settling himself beside her. They had lapsed once more into Mandarin; he had learned on his previous visit that she retained a little English, but was not comfortable using it, and he did not intend to force her now. "I didn't expect to see you, and now that you're here...I'm so very glad that you're here, Li."
The door opened, then, and a maid entered the room hesitantly, carrying a heavy tray laden with the tea things. She laid it on the low table in front of their sofa with very little fanfare, clearly trying to keep her gaze away from her king and her new princess, though she must have been eaten up with curiosity. She was not the only one; the whole castle was likely buzzing by now, and those whispers would spread beyond these walls by daybreak. The Press Office would have their work cut out for them, issuing releases for the newspapers and trying to decide how best to introduce Li to the kingdom, but all of that must of necessity wait; Lucien did not know why Li had come or how long she intended to stay, and he did not want anyone to get the wrong idea about her presence in the castle, or what it meant for the future of their country.
He thanked the maid and dismissed her kindly, and then set about pouring a cup of tea for Li, and one for himself. The maid could have done that, he supposed, but he wanted, very much, to be alone with his daughter.
"Here we are," he said, handing her a cup, wrapping his hands around his own and settling back against the sofa. "Are you comfortable?"
"Quite," she told him, taking a long sip of tea and seeming to relax as its warmth soothed her. "Your home is beautiful, papa. I knew it would be, but I did not realize…" she smiled ruefully, shook her head and let her dark hair spill over her shoulders. "I knew you were a king, but I did not realize what that meant until now, I think."
"I'm your father, Li," he told her gently. "That's all the matters. The rest of it is just...noise."
She hummed and took another sip of her tea. "I suppose you want to know why I'm here."
Yes, Lucien was quite desperate to hear her story, but he remembered how reticent she had been, and he did not wish to push her now, did not want to make her uncomfortable or damage the fragile bond they'd cultivated between themselves.
"If you feel able -"
"I want to tell you. I've had weeks to think about how I wanted to explain this to you. I'm ready now, papa."
How he loved to hear that word from her, to hear her so plainly acknowledge their connection, to know that whatever trouble had befallen her she had trusted him enough to come to him in her hour of need. It meant everything to him, to have his child with him, to have this chance to be her father once again.
"There is trouble, in China," she began slowly. "You know there is a new president?"
Lucien nodded, and Li took that as a sign that she ought to continue. "There have been many reforms, not all of them for the better. Food is scarce, and many people are dying. Family farms have been taken away, and people have been forced to work in factories. The living conditions in the city…" She trembled as if with some remembered horror, and Lucien's heart constricted at the very idea that his own child could have suffered under such terrible circumstances. "My husband, he did not agree with the government. He began to grow angry. He said that what they were doing was wrong, that it wasn't true communism, that the people ought to retake the country. There was a group of men who shared his beliefs, and they began to plan…a rebellion, I suppose. I begged him not to, I tried to tell him we were going to have a child, that it wasn't safe, but he said...he said he was doing this for our son, so that he would grow up happy, and healthy, so that he would not starve and suffer."
There were tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, now, and dread was growing deep in Lucien's heart as he realized where this story was going.
"They killed him, papa," she whispered in the stillness that had settled over him. "The government came, and dragged him out of our bed, and they killed him in our home.'
"Oh, Christ, Li-"
Lucien reached for her, his tea forgotten on the table, and she did not hesitate; he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned against him heavily, fighting to keep her tears at bay, though she did not succeed. It was unthinkable, that she could have suffered such horror, when she was so young, when she was carrying a child; Lucien had lost his wife but he had not witnessed her passing, as it seemed that Li had witnessed the loss of her own husband, and he could not begin to imagine the depth of her grief.
"Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry," he told her softly, holding her close, fighting back tears of her own. Though he had longed to have her with him from the moment he learned of her survival Lucien could not bear the thought that they had been reunited under such terrible circumstances. What Li had suffered was the height of cruelty, and his heart was breaking in his chest. The war had ended in the west but death and violence still hung like a pall over the eastern hemisphere, and he cursed it then, the beast of war that had already taken so much from his family, and yet did not seem to be satisfied.
"They would have come for me as well. I think perhaps the only reason they did not was because of you," she told him, pulling away from his embrace and clearly trying to bring her emotions back under control. That made a certain amount of sense, Lucien realized; his clever girl had seen what he had not, that though the government had killed her husband they had hesitated to extend their vengeance to Li not out of compassion or justice, but fear for their own skins. The Chinese government knew who she was, and they knew, too, that her father had ties to every powerful government on the globe. Her death would have lit a spark that could well have blazed into a third world war; it was a terrifying thought.
"I wanted to go to your embassy, but I did not have proof of who I am, and I wasn't sure that they would believe me." And she had reason to be mistrustful of governments; Lucien could hardly fault her for taking a different route to his side. "I booked passage on a ship. It took six weeks to get here. I was very sick; I think the baby does not like the water." Once more her hand was resting on the swell of her belly, and Lucien's eyes gravitated there at once, the thought that she carried his grandchild within her suddenly striking him with full force. One day, one day very soon, she would give birth, would have a baby of her own to hold, to protect, to love, a reminder of her lost love just as Li herself reminded Lucien of Mei Lin every time he looked at her; just the thought of it made his head spin.
"When I got here I realized I did not have the right kind of money, and my English is not so very good. I had to walk. A nice man in a cafe told me where the castle was, but it took me a very long time to find it."
"You walked all the way here from the harbor?" Lucien asked, his throat constricting at the very thought. It must have taken her hours, and her carrying her heavy rucksack all the while; how she had managed it he was not sure, and while he admired her determination he could not help but feel as if he had failed her, somehow, as if there must have been something more he could have done for her.
She smiled at him, a bit thinly. "What other choice did I have?" she asked him softly. "Your guards, they did not believe me when I told them who I was. I think maybe they did not understand me. But then the old one, the one with the cane? He came, and he saw me, and he let me in."
"I shall have to thank him for that," Lucien told her, thinking that he would willingly give Matthew a bloody medal in gratitude for that service; if it were not for Matthew, the guards may well have turned Li away, and Lucien could not bear the thought of what might have happened next.
"I can stay here, can't I, papa? At least until the baby is born? I want to be somewhere safe, when he comes." The question plucked at Lucien's already fraying heart; she looked so scared, so small somehow. She had suffered so much already, had crossed an ocean to find him not knowing what waited for her on the other side, not knowing if he would welcome her, and he resolved himself in that moment to shower her with every ounce of the love he felt for her.
"You can stay here as long as you like," Lucien answered her at once, taking her hand and clinging to it for dear life. "This is your home, Li," he told her earnestly. "You can come and go as you please. I will not ask you to do anything you don't want to do. But I would like, very much, for you to stay with me. I want to meet my grandson."
She smiled at him, and squeezed his hand, and Lucien breathed a sigh of relief. His head was still spinning, but for the moment it was enough for him to know that she was here, with him. That she was safe.