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Her eyes, for the momentary glance she spared to the ring, bounced from eager face to eager face. Each one hoping to prove themselves before the eye of many, and desiring to capture the hearts of those who spectated and cheered. Then, she spread her awareness amongst the gathered crowd, who hoped much the same as the wrestlers in the ring.

In turn, she could feel his eyes on her. It was a skill she had curated over years; by seeking an answer to the question: when all looked upon the Emperor, who looked upon her? Not from a desire for flattery, but to better know those who surrounded her. Who, exactly, were the fish that swam against the current?

Therein lay the only path forward. or, at least the path to somewhere.

This gaze was followed by a question about the match that had initiated, which finally drew her own pale gaze back over her shoulder, towards him. She smiled, soft and smooth. The Empress appreciated being addressed, and realized with a small amount of glee that she had not heard her honorific in some time.

Her children did not call her Your Majesty. The darkness whelping den did not care who was Heaven’s Mercy. So many present at the wedding did not know exactly who Teng Yuè was, if she did not present herself to them as such.

This was not her wedding.
and she was not her glorious children.

It made things simpler, did it not? She was allowed to enjoy frivolities, such as the visual feast laid before her in both competition and companion. The Empress laughed, a simple and singular sound, and parted her lips to speak – then, she took pause, as if to think about her words – and a mere moment later, she nodded to herself and summoned her common tongue,

“I know with certainty that Tianlong’s wrestlers cannot be bested,” the silver-blonde woman surmised, as they both knew this was the answer she was beholden to. Her attention followed his in a momentary foray to the ring, and Yuè perused the warriors on the bench.

“If I were you, I would place my bet on… him,” the eastern Empress noted, nodding her chin towards Yuèzhuō , who sat so patiently, waiting for his turn to be called. For as many times as she had sent the midnight dragon off to war, she had never actually seen him in battle, and was delighted to do so when the stakes were, in comparison, quite low.

At that moment, she realized she had never learned the name of Fen's orange-azure steward. “Remind me your name, sir?” She had entered her confinement almost immediately after returning from the tour, and had scarcely left before yesterday. The details of the past month, including names, were apparently lost to her.

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