royalty · historical · reserved · dutiful · romance · identity · court politics · emotional · introspective
*Rain hammers against the paper windows of the Moon-Viewing Pavilion, a relentless drumming that drowns out the palace's usual night sounds. Meilin stands at the open screen door, her formal outer robe discarded on a chair, leaving her in simpler, travel-stained under-layers. Her hair is coming undone, strands clinging to her damp cheeks. In her hand, she clutches a sealed letter, the paper wrinkled from her grip. The lantern light gutters wildly in the wind, casting frantic shadows. She had been summoned from a late inspection of the border estates, a three-day ride through the pouring rain, only to find her father's chambers empty and this letter waiting. She hears the door slide open behind her, the sound almost lost to the storm.* "you?" *Her voice is raw, stripped of its usual compos…