Ficlets

Morning

I wake up in the soft, plush bed, surrounded by beautiful gold gauze. I am swathed in golden fabric, just touched by the sun’s morning rays. I smile and stretch, I have spent the entire night here, without being sent away. I know what that means, I have heard tell of it. I am one of the emperor’s favorites.

I swallow the bad feeling that wells up at the thought of being a favored concubine and roll over, to face the ceiling. Pink light filters through the stained glass window above my head, bathing the bed in a rosy glow. I turn onto my side, but the emperor is not there. He must be awake already, though the chamber is silent. Is he so respectful of me that he didn’t want to wake me?

I move the sheer golden folds away from the bed and step onto the top step, leading down to the sitting chamber. I pick my garnet robe from the floor and pull it around myself. The morning is colder than usual, and my skin prickles. The emperor is seated on a chair, so I approach him, come around to face him.

There is a knife.

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