For Yuè ! Sorry about the delay </3

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Rivers found many mortal diversions fascinating, not least of which was dueling. There was the Howff's version of it, certainly. Chaotic affairs borne from passions and pride to delight onlookers.

Tianlong had found a way to regiment this into something formal and, apparently, stately. Ever did nations seek to justify their base instincts as the precipice of enlightenment! After sizing up a few of the brutes who'd submitted themselves for the honour, Rivers had decided he misliked his odds without magic to beckon, and settled in from a higher vantage to watch the matches proceed.

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The wedding had left Yue feeling suspended in time.

She had been wholly raised within the cultural ideas of a harem, and educated to lead one when she had come of age. The Empress would say that she thrived within the confines of cumulative female strength, and she did so here and now, but her stomach maintained its uneasiness.

She had watched Ye Lanyi and her husband leave to celebrate their wedding, arm-in-arm. Her own children had been formally presented and were now known to the world. Shenlei was known to have his heir, and Tianlong had its peaceful successor. Factions gathered from far and wide to witness the splendor of a dynasty.

and no one seemed to need the Empress.

Yue was not one who relished the spotlight. She wore it well, but Heaven’s Mercy had always seen the attention of many as a price to pay for her position, not an end-goal of it all. She used these moments to observe, and to be still, in a way that she had not been able to since before Satriya’s own wedding.

Even before then, the woman hadn’t truly known rest and obscurity, as she had fought tooth and nail to bring Tianlong back to life, and then after the healer’s song which had bestowed her coat with a glittering luminescence, but had also spirited the princesses so far away.

She settled herself high above, as a spectator, wrapped in the sarlag. In many indescribable ways, it still smelled of Batu, even though his presence at her side had faded.

Another reason her mouth set itself into a small, mousy line at the tip of her pale muzzle.

She noticed a man watching with a similar thousand-yard stare and thought for a moment that his pelt was an interesting hue. The orchid recognized him as the guard sent by Lyra, to steward Fen and her cohort in the last leg of their journey.

The Empress smiled towards him, tipped the edge of her metaphorical hat, and then turned to the match below.

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༻❁༺

Truth be told, where Rivers was concerned a beautiful woman would always be more interesting than a feat of strength. And the Empress, all aglow like a fairy queen herself, had beauty to spare.

Even the weight of new life wrought upon her frame could not diminish her. In fact, he found it rather an enhancement. Mortals had their own kind of magic, a power of creation some fae were bitterly jealous of. Luckily, Rivers had never been the jealous type.

Have ye got a particular favourite to win, Your Majesty? He asked, blue eyes parting from her lovely visage only long enough to assess the match, before pulling reverently back to her face.