Empress (A Tickle Commission)

Reconditioning

“Yes, miss,” she said louder and more assuredly.

“Huh,” Xianying said. She reached up to touch a loose strand of hair from the servant’s bun. The strand fell against her neck, lightly draped over the girl’s scar that she shared with all of the other servants of the palace, an ironed burn bearing the character for ‘slave’. “Then why would you want to cover this up?” The servant’s face was drained of all color. She started to reach up to fix it, but Xianying caught her wrist, squeezing it hard. The other servants watched from the corners of their eyes as they continued to work. 

“I-I’m so sorry, miss,” the maiden said, wide eyed and shivering. “I-it must have just fallen out. I can fix it.”

“Guards,” Xianying called out. The servant panicked more, but Xianying kept a firm hold on her. She shook her head and pleaded with the palace advisor.

“No, please, miss!” she cried. “It won’t happen again, I swear.” Two guards, both impressively built men towering over Xianying and the slave, came in at once. Xianying soaked in her pleas, yet left them to fade in the air. They each grabbed a firm, abrasive hold of her arms. Her knees and elbows buckled in trembling terror.

“Shave this one’s head,” Xianying told them. A pit wrenched in the slave’s stomach. “Then find her a pair of stocks in the dungeon, where she’ll remain until her hair grows back the way the prince likes it.”

“No! Please! I’ll do-,” the slave begged pitifully before Xianying cut her off by gripping her throat, choking out the sound.

“I could have had you executed for his pleasure,” Xianying said slowly, “but I didn’t. I think that’s quite generous of me, don’t you? So, no more of that. Show me your appreciation.” Xianying let go, leaving the girl to cough on stunted breath.

“Th… thank… you… miss,” the slave said, her voice welling up with her eyes. 

“Good girl,” Xianying said with a smile. “I’ll make sure to pay you extra special attention down there later. Get her out of here.” The guards hoisted the girl like a limp sack of rotted vegetables and dragged her out of the room. The girl stifled her sobs and cries for mercy, but could not cover the pitiful sniffling. Xianying watched her get taken out and tore off another bite of her peach. She turned back to the other girls, both passively shivering. “Looks like you’ll have to work harder to stay on schedule. Don’t be late or you’ll both join her.”

“Yes, miss,” they replied in uniform. 

Xianying made her way down the main hall, refreshed by the exchange. She passed by more servants carrying freshly washed linens. They all fell silent and avoided her gaze, though this did not deter her from stealing a sudden slap and grab of their asses as they walked by. Xianying chuckled to herself. She finished the peach and handed the pit to a guard as she passed, licking her fingers and wiping them on his chest. 

Xianying slipped through the heavy, opened doors of the palace throne room. A gaudy flourish of golden reliefs lined the walls between red drapes and elegantly carved ivory columns. Frail streams of smoke rose from dishes of fragrant oils dangling from the ceiling. A fire pit burned at one end. It crackled sharply against cinder and coal. When Xianying entered, she found the throne in the center of the room vacant. It sat adjourned with gold and jewels. Next to each side, a slave girl knelt, each holding up a silver tray with precise posture and vacant stares. Both had been stripped of their clothes, yet their hair and makeup remained perfectly unbothered. One held atop her tray a ceramic vase while the other held up a small clay cup of Baijiu. 

The intruding archer walked over, took a passive sip at the cup, and found the Crown Prince Fu Jie staring out of a barred window at the back of the room. His face was hidden, his expression unmoved by her obvious presence. He stood strong and upright, hands clasped behind his back. Long red silk robes fell down his body, pooling a little on the floor beneath him. Xianying sighed and leaned against the back of the throne.