"Who’s lewd? You’re the lewd one..."
"Say that again."
Sienna Johnson grabbed a pillow and swung it at Adrian Desmond, who dodged. Sienna then chased him with the pillow, and the two played around like children.
"Co on, catch ! If you catch , you can eat my ’sausage’ raw."
"Shut your mouth!"
Sienna was kicking herself. What possessed her to bring *that* up? Of all things!
Adrian was agile. Just when she thought she had him, he would leap from one spot to another, evading her grasp.
"If you’ve got guts, don’t run!"
"I don’t have guts, I have *seed*—the kind I planted in your belly!"
"Adrian, I order you to stand still!"
Adrian said nothing.
"Damn it, he doesn’t even listen to his own wife anymore."
Sienna caught up and hit him with the pillow. Adrian raised his arm to block, but the pillow tore in the process. Feathers from inside floated everywhere, like snowflakes.
Both of them stared, stunned.
After a few seconds, Adrian looked at Sienna, covered in white feathers, and laughed. "You look like a chicken."
In Orienta, "chicken" was a word with many connotations. For a man to call a woman a "chicken" was definitely derogatory.
Sienna’s face darkened. "Who are you calling a chicken?"
"You."
Sixth Master hadn’t lived in Orienta long enough to fully appreciate the depth and breadth of its language. For instance, due to homophones, the word for "cup" had co to an "tragedy," while common words like "cucumber" and "chrysanthemum" had taken on entirely new, suggestive anings he clearly didn’t grasp.
"Why are you angry again? You’re covered in feathers, just like a chicken. But you’re a pretty chicken." Adrian tried to appease her with what he thought was humor, but he only managed to step on a landmine again.
"Sixth Master, you really need to wise up! Only an idiot like you would call his own wife a ’chicken’."
"What do you an?"
"In Orienta, sex workers are called ’chickens’."
Adrian was speechless.
...
Adrian and Sienna didn’t sleep; the couple was too busy "playing" like children. anwhile, Paige Desmond and her son, Dylan, had reunited and were also wide awake.
Paige was a strong-willed woman, yet seeing her son after more than a month apart still brought her to tears of emotion.
"How have you been living with your grandma? Have you been eating well? Have you been sick at all?"
Dylan, ever the sensible one, said, "Mommy, don’t cry. I’ve been eating well, and I haven’t been sick. I just miss my mom so much."
Paige’s crying intensified. "Mommy misses Dylan too."
"Mommy, don’t cry," Dylan consoled her. "I won’t leave. I’ll stay with you."
"Dylan, Mommy misses you very much." Paige didn’t take her son’s words to heart; after all, this wasn’t sothing he, or even she, could decide.
"Dylan, Mommy’s good boy."
Paige didn’t let Dylan call her "Mother Consort"; she felt it wasn’t intimate enough. She didn’t want to be his "Mother Consort"; she wanted to be his "Mommy."
"Mommy, I miss you too."
Like a little adult, Dylan gently comforted his weeping mother. Seeing her constant tears, he reassured her, "You don’t have to worry. They won’t catch and take back.
"Dad is going on a state visit to another country and will be gone for a long ti.
"Besides, Uncle is taking Curly and the others to Unnad Island in a few days. We’ll follow them. Grandma won’t find us there."
Paige’s tears stopped as she looked at her sensible son. She couldn’t help but think of Curly. Curly was a few months older than Dylan, yet clearly not as mature.
Dylan’s maturity was heartbreaking.
Truthfully, a child his age should be more like Curly. Children like Curly, coddled and cherished in the palm of their parents’ hands, that’s how they should be.
"Dylan, Mommy wants to get a divorce from Daddy."
Seeing how mature her son was, Paige decided to tell him about her intention to divorce his father. After all, it wasn’t sothing she could hide.
After Paige finished speaking, she watched her son carefully, afraid he might object or try to stop their divorce.
Dylan furrowed his little brow and remained silent. Paige almost backed down. "Actually..."
"Is it because Dad wants to marry the Princess of Pelindi?"
Paige was surprised her son knew. "Yes," she admitted. "That’s the main reason. I love your father, so I can’t accept him marrying another woman.
"I also want a marriage like your Uncle and Aunt have, with just two people in it.
"But your father insists on marrying the Princess of Pelindi."
Paige paused, a shadow crossing her face. "Dylan, the Imperial Palace is like a cage, and I want to escape it."
Paige wasn’t sure if her son truly understood, but Dylan replied, "It’s true, the outside world is much happier than the Imperial Palace."
"I heard you played hide-and-seek with Curly. Do you like this older sister?"
"Yes," Dylan smiled. "She’s very pretty and cute. And she’s always smiling, a really, really happy smile. It’s infectious; I feel happy just being around her."
Paige hugged her son’s small body and kissed his forehead. "Mommy doesn’t want you to be the little prince of Abyanabad anymore," she said. "I just want you to live as happily as Curly."
"Okay."
"Are you willing to co with ?"
Dylan didn’t answer imdiately, so Paige elaborated, "No longer be the little prince of Abyanabad, but live with Mommy like ordinary people?"
The boy was still so young. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d be giving up—power, status, and wealth, things so tempting to ordinary people. But she still wanted to entice him away. This child, she had fought so hard to bring him into the world. She could lose Kiya, but she couldn’t lose Dylan.
"Uncle is going to live in Orienta. Are we going to Orienta too?"
"Yes! Uncle, Aunt, Curly, and your unborn little brother are all in Orienta. We’ll go to Orienta too! We’ll leave this place, and you won’t be forced to learn this and that anymore. You can live just like Curly..."
"Alright, I will go to Orienta with Mommy."
"Dylan, Mommy’s good boy."
Paige hugged her son tightly, her face beaming with joy, already envisioning their future—free and wonderful.
"But Dad won’t agree to let you go. Are we going to sneak away?" Dylan asked a very practical question.
That was indeed a tricky problem. "If it cos to that, we’ll hide first. In a few years, after your father marries the Princess of Pelindi and has other children, then we’ll co out."
Dylan considered it. His mother’s suggestion seed feasible. "That’s a good idea," he agreed.
...
"So, where will we hide?" Dylan then asked.
"I haven’t thought about that yet."
"Actually," Dylan analyzed, "as long as we get out of Abyanabad, Dad won’t be able to control us. Dad is a prince of Abyanabad, but not of other countries."
"Your uncle will help us. We’ll go to Unnad Island for a while first, and then decide what to do."
"I’ll listen to whatever Mommy says," Dylan said obediently.
Paige kissed her son’s forehead. Looking at his thin, frail appearance, her heart ached. She was so unhappy in the Imperial Palace; how could her precious son be happy there either?
User Comments
0 comments from readers