Chapter 3

Harry glided an ivory comb through his hair slowly, comforting himself with the familiarity of his movements.

He tried to ignore the ice in his veins as he concentrated on the simple movements of his hands in his hair. Unfortunately for him, his concentration was interrupted by his servant's deliberate sighs and excessive noise.

For goodness' sake!

"Speak Hermione," He ordered. She hesitated briefly, wringing her hands in the silk robes she held for him. Harry could see her brilliant mind combusting from frustration. "Mistress," she began, "Why must you go to this banquet?"

"The Emperor graciously organized it for his new concubines, it would be disrespectful to not attend," Harry responded slowly. Hermione's eye twitched.

"Even at the expense of your health?" "My being belongs to his majesty." Hermione sucked air through her teeth slowly.

"My Lady, the other concubines will be in attendance. They'll make cruel remarks and jests about your person. Surely you must know that!" Harry's hands stopped their movements momentarily. His eyes gazed at his image in the mirror flatly. "What they do or do not do does not concern me, and it shouldn't concern you either Hermione," He stated softly but sternly, resuming his earlier grooming. His servant's brows furrowed and her posture slumped in defeat. Harry took pity on her and turned his body to face her. "I am aware of their remarks and taunts, but I cannot show them any weakness if I want to survive. Do you understand?"

Before Hermione could open her mouth Harry continued, "and yes, that includes risking my health sometimes. I know my body well, I will not push it past what it cannot endure".

She closed her mouth with an audible click, nodded and pursed her lips at his stubborn nature. Harry sighed in relief.

"Now, get me ready, I won't give them unnecessary ammunition by being late. You can even pick more colorful accessories this time." Hermione's stiff lips relaxed slightly as she hurried back to her task of dressing her mistress. She hastened to pick a lightly pigmented, cyan robe and showed it to her mistress. Harry nodded his approval. He studied the robe carefully as he rose up and raised his arms to put it on. The robe was cyan-blue with a design pattern that mimicked water. The top five inches was a white expanse with a gray and black floral design and a deeper blue color in little two inch stripes stretching diagonally across his chest.

Hermione helped drape the robe neatly on Harry's petite frame before arranging a white silk scarf belt, a longhua, around his neck.

She tucked one end of the longhua into the armpit of the robe and laid the other end gently on his chest.

Harry sat back down gracefully for her to do his hair. He was slightly apprehensive about the free reign he'd given her.

For the entire four months he's been in the palace, he's never worn anything ostentatious or obnoxiously intricate no matter how much his servant cajoled him. But to set her mind on other things instead of her gloomy thoughts, it was a small sacrifice. It was just one day after all. I certainly hope it doesn't become routine, He thought darkly. To stop unnecessary worries, he simply closed his eyes and waited somewhat impatiently as Hermione manipulated his hair. After a few moments of silence, when his thoughts had cleared and left him calmer, he opened his eyes and blinked slowly in surprise; it was not as gaudy as he'd feared. The wood frame for the hairpiece was slightly bigger than he normally wore, but it was rounded, and so appeared smaller than it was. And though Hermione employed more accessories than he was comfortable with, it was not overwhelming.

She'd used small pink flowers to decorate the immediate end of the headpiece, and then added a slightly larger cluster of pink flowers and a beautiful metal flower near the center of his hair. The only ostentatious part of the hairstyle was a large ruby hair-clip arranged directly within the center of the flowers. Lastly, she hung a white tassel with burgundy hues and tail of pearls towards his right side and two clean pearl earrings to finish the look.

He loved it. He could see that the robe complemented his green eyes and the headpiece brought more color to his attire. "Thank you, Hermione. It looks lovely," he complimented her softly, smiling as she beamed. She slid her arm under his left arm to help lift him from his stool and her eyes narrowed in concern at the sweat on his brow from such a simple movement. Harry rolled his eyes at her over-protective tendencies. Hermione knelt and gently slid three nail guards on his fingers and gave him his handkerchief. Harry offered his left arm delicately to her patiently as she rose from her knees. She took hold of his offered hand and led her mistress to the banquet hall, matching his slow and dainty steps. Harry entered the Emperor's banquet hall and was greeted with organized chaos. Of course, the concubines were all properly behaved, yet due to the sheer number of them, they seemed like squabbling children in fancy clothing.

As a low-ranking concubine, he was seated at the tail end of the "U" shaped seating arrangement.

The Emperor was seated on a golden throne which was smaller than the one in the throne room. On his immediate left and right sat the Kings. The Onyx King suited his name well. Shrouded in black robes of impressive quality, he embodied the sullen war lord he truly was. His black hair was tightly pulled back into a low ponytail by a silver hair clasp. He sat straight, tall and imposing. Ironically, he outshined the impeccably dressed Empress sipping tea elegantly on his left. She shone in her own way, but her usual dominance waned in the presence of the three powerful men beside her. Harry knew better than to meet her eyes. He shifted his attention to the Ivory King on the right of the Emperor. The Ivory King was very pale. His hair was pale blond and laid on his shoulders elegantly with silver wisps around his face. He sat slightly shorter than the Onyx King but was just as imposing. His eyes were warmer than his antithesis, but lacked openness to them. They were warm because they were passionate, ambitious, yet still shut off. Dangerous eyes, Harry added to his observation as he moved his gaze to the Emperor. Ah.

He was beautiful. Harry had not seen the Emperor since he was chosen and he chided himself on forgetting his beauty. For a second Harry's mind stopped and he couldn't comprehend anything in the banquet hall except for the man on the throne in the center. Harry felt a pull there that he could not place. Tall and physically broad, he made quite an impression.

A sweet giggle brought Harry's attention back to the banquet. He traced the sound to Draco Malfoy, and he delicately brought his lavender coated handkerchief to his nose to cover himself wrinkling his nose subtly in disgust at his earlier behavior. Beautiful. Really? What had come over him? He shook his head and gestured for Hermione to fill his plate, distracting himself with making selections. "Meimei (Younger sister), I'm glad you could make it, it's awfully hard to get a glance at you nowadays," Noble Lady Parkinson jeered at him from a few seats away. Her voice carried and Harry worried at the attention it would bring. "Jiejie (Older sister), forgive me, I will do better in the future," Harry smiled demurely, silently willing the others' attentions to move on. He was not in luck. "Oh what a surprise! Potter Changzai, I was under the impression that you were sick. Yet here you are, sitting among us," Imperial Concubine Malfoy said with a sneer. "As I was saying to Noble Lady Parkinson, I will do better your highness." "I'm sure you will," He sniffed. "What has gotten my dragon so overworked?" The Emperor inquired from his seat above. Harry's heart stopped working. That voice...

Stop it Harry!

"Nothing Your Majesty, just making sure my younger sister is well," Imperial Concubine Malfoy chirped sweetly.

Harry didn't know if he should laugh at the smitten look on the usually arrogant boy's face or laugh that Draco Malfoy had been forced to call him sister in any sense of the word. A pureblood calling a half-blood kin, he thought sardonically. He settled for a bland smile and dancing eyes. The Emperor zeroed in on Harry as if he sensed his mirth and he quickly averted his eyes back to his neglected pastries. "You must be Potter Changzai, my sickly concubine," The Emperor stated, "Truly, my Harem is filled with beauties," piercing Harry with dark eyes. Harry could feel their gaze on him.

Do not look, do not look.

Harry lifted his left hand and Hermione, who was standing behind her mistress, took it to help him up. Harry curtsied by placing both hands at his side and gracefully bent down at an angle on his knees. "Greetings and blessings Your Majesty".

"Rise," He waved his hands dismissively. "Thank you Your Majesty." "I've heard that you were sick, but I have been unable to visit you, do not hold it against me." Harry sat down, eyes still submissively averted. "Your Majesty is kind. How can I begrudge the Son of Heaven?" The Emperor chuckled. "Nevertheless, it was remiss of me. I must reward you something to encourage your good health.Now, tell me what you would like." Harry glanced at him slowly, as he thought his request over, "It'll soon be winter, the east garden has been barren of flowers for quite some time. If Your Majesty could reward me some flowers to plant, I would be grateful."

The Onyx King rose his head slowly and joined the Emperor in staring at Harry, piercing him with his cold eyes. Bloody hell. "And that is all you desire?" The Emperor stressed. "Yes Your Majesty, the flowers will fill the air fragrantly, eliminating the need for incense, ultimately improving my health." Harry clenched his hands underneath his table cloth.

Please, please let it go.

Harry felt the anxiety rising as his carefully constructed anonymity crumbled. The Emperor sat up straight and narrowed his eyes until they were nothing but dark slits. Harry swallowed. "Then you shall have it," The Emperor said, and Harry relaxed. He almost cried in relief. He knew that if scrutiny from the Emperor and his Kings became routine, he wouldn't survive. It was exactly what his father had warned him about. "Thank you, Your Majesty." The Emperor returned his attention back to Imperial Concubine Draco as the blonde sat with swimming eyes and a pout on his cherry lips, obviously jealous at Harry's interaction with the Emperor. The Emperor drew the blonde into a conversation that soon turned his puffed cheeks pink with happiness. Sometime later, during the middle of the banquet, the blonde caught Harry's eye and glared at him with fierce, superior eyes. Harry let him have the glory by ducking his eyes to conceal his mirth.

How childish. Harry was soon forgotten by the rest of the group, to his great relief, and busied himself by eating his pastries and speaking lowly to Hermione.

Towards the end of the banquet, when the food had been sent away and the royal dancers were twirling away in the center of the hall, he managed to excuse himself. He'd been uncomfortable the entire time he was in the Banquet Hall, and the memory of the looks he'd received from the Emperor and the Onyx King did nothing but continue to unnerve him further. His discomfort fueled him as he strode out of the Emperor's palace and towards his own.

"My Lady, please slow down, you'll tire yourself out!" Hermione admonished breathlessly. Harry came to an abrupt stop. She was right, he could feel the fatigue slowly creeping its way up his legs. He waited for her to reach him then continued with her sedately to a small pond. "What's wrong Mistress?" Hermione asked as she helped him sit on a rock near the pond. "Nothing, I just needed some air." He brushed imaginary lint from his pristine robes and rubbed his legs to ease the unnecessary strain he'd added to them. He admonished himself for letting palace politics get to him. He didn't want to think anymore. No more Malfoy with his sneers and petulant attitude. No more Emperor and his two lovers to disturb his peace of mind with those piercing eyes. Those eyes that spoke more than words and yet revealed nothing. The past four months has been a learning curve for him intellectually. He'd had to manoeuvre among conniving men and women bent on destroying each other for five minutes of their husband's attentions. He did this by creating an unflappable mask to weather the scorn shown to him due to his status, and he did his best to endure all this along with his sickness with quiet dignity. He looked straight out to the pond and marvelled at his reflection. Sometimes he didn't recognize himself anymore.

Before the selection he knew exactly what life had in store for him. Now, he's part of an ever increasing harem of women and men who would sooner gouge their eyes out than help each other; these people knew nothing of certainty. They lived for the now, and that is why Harry hasn't been able to relate to them. Alice had made it very clear that her association with him wasn't going to get better because of a change in environment. Harry's lips twitched at the memory of her denouncing him loudly in a crowd of concubines led by Draco Malfoy, the first month in the palace. At the time he'd pleaded with her to reconsider, after all, half-blood or not, they were family. He shook his head as he remembered her answering sneer. "Toujours Pur," she'd hissed at him.

Always pure.

He hadn't looked at her direction since. He supposed that getting promoted to Noble Lady was a worthy reward for aligning with Draco Malfoy, the Emperor's dear "Dragon." He laughed softly, small puffs of air filled with melodious sounds. His laughter increased and became more joyous as he recalled Draco Malfoy's "sister" comment. How much it must have irked Malfoy to say out loud.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, as if questioning his sanity with her intelligent eyes and he laughed even harder. He held onto his ribs as he shook with laughter for close to two minutes. When his laughter subsided, he felt much better emotionally, though the same couldn't be said for his physical health. The raucous laughter had winded him a bit more than he'd expected, but he couldn't care less.

He took Hermione's hands in his and looked at her with a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. Hermione groaned; she'd gotten to know that that look meant trouble. "My Lady, no," she begged with defeat in her voice. Harry ignored her and pulled his unwilling servant to the edge of the pond. He looked around his surroundings and made sure no one was looking. Then as quickly as possible, he discarded his silk shoes and wiggled his slender feet as they adjusted to the cool breeze. "My Lady, you'll get sick, please get back here!" "Oh Hermione, you should live a little. Come join me, nobody's looking. Besides, I'm already sick, no illness in its right mind would attack an already sickly body. There's no pleasure in conquering the conquered, haven't I taught you anything?" He smiled winningly at her to show he was just teasing.

Hermione shifted in place as she looked around, worrying her lips. "I might fall and drown if you don't come and help me," Harry cajoled. His servant hastened to his side, carefully removing her shoes and socks as well. As she approached, she noticed that he wasn't even in the pond. She sighed in relief. He chuckled and shook his head at her behavior. Then he bent down and splashed shallowly in the water, sprinkling Hermione's face with cool water. Shrieking and flailing in surprise, without pausing, Hermione leant down and splashed some water on his face before stopping and staring at him, horrified. Harry giggled and splashed her back to let her know he wasn't mad. They played in the water for five minutes before Hermione put her foot down firmly and demanded that her mistress vacate the pond. Harry pouted but acquiesced. He'd gotten her in the water for a few minutes, and that was progress. The Forbidden City wasn't built in a day he thought. After they'd calmed down a bit, Harry allowed his servant to lead him back to his palace. As they walked he thought over tonight's events. He'd attended the banquet as was his duty, so he hopefully won't be called again for another four months. One didn't need friends or immense wealth to survive in the palace, though they are beneficial to have, he snuck a look at Hermione. One didn't even need the Emperor's favour if one had anonymity, and he dearly hoped that he hadn't just destroyed his too badly.

…………………………………..

Thomas was so deep in his thoughts he didn't notice Severus and Lucius entering the room, "What troubles you, Thomas" Severus asked. He at least, had noted Thomas' inattention.

Thomas did not respond at first but looked at his lover for a long time and then said, "Did you feel something different about changzai Potter" Lucius and Severus shared a look at this, and Lucius said "You mean about the gift? Any other concubine in his place would have asked from precious jewels to us spending a night in their chambers but Harry only asked for flowers, I was surprised." Severus added, "Why? Do you think he had an ulterior motive behind this, you think he was trying to be unassuming" Thomas nodded his head at both of them and said, "The gift too, but I do not think that he was trying to be unassuming, more that I felt he did not want our attention on him which was, as you said, strange for a concubine. But also there was something different to his scent, he does not smell like a beta." Severus and Lucius shared a shocked look and exclaimed, "you think he is an omega?" "I think he is a Supreme Omega…." "Explain," Lucius said. Thomas sighed and said "His scent was different from other omegas I have met, more fragrant and heady though it was only a whiff. I am not sure about what the difference meant as we have not come across many omegas, but my instinct is leaning towards this theory. One thing is sure, he is hiding something." Thomas' brow furrowed in thought. Severus moved towards him, took him in his arms, and said, "We will find out about this do not worry, and if we are indeed blessed with a supreme omega then we will take the best care of him." "Yes the next time we meet him, each of us should look closely at him, it would be a wonderful occasion if your theory is true, the Empress Dowager would be so happy. But let us keep this between ourselves as I do not want endanger him, after all we know how our concubines can be when jealous….." The three of them looked at each other, their eyes silently agreeing that they would protect their omega from everyone and everything. But first, they needed to confirm their suspicions. This would take some time, they needed to find leverage on his family and get them to speak.

Edited and updated on 29/06/2021