Sunday, November 3, 2013

Part 13 - Cinderella and the Great Prince of Southern China


Greetings,

Time for the next installment, all you fans of fairy tales from the Chinese Diaspora (alias me). The theme for this chapter (there are three scenes by the way), is "Time for a Post-Mortem." Writers put these kinds of analytical scenes in after major action sequences when they think there are all kinds of wrong directions their readers can go in and they want to make sure you go where they want you to go.

I'm not trying to scare you off. Sorry. The third scene is pretty integral to the plot, so don't skip it.

Love,
Pops



“I Might As Well Be a Nun!” Or . . . The Other Way Around

            “Ai! My first trial and it was a disaster!” lamented Seven. It was later in the evening that Silver Bird and she had retired to Seven’s apartment to mull over and try to understand the day’s events. “Over 100 witnesses and I only got to interrogate one?”
            “Two. There was Madame Cui and Three,” corrected Silver Bird.
            “Three doesn’t count,” Seven insisted. “I would have had SO MUCH practice by the end,” she moaned.
            “I can’t believe Baba took JOY with him to the ball. She’s sitting next to him right now. Why wasn’t it ME? It’s MY face that he’s starting to like, after all,” Silver Bird complained as she lay alongside Seven on the bed and sulked into the pillows.
            “He is not starting to like you. He told to you to change your looks,” said Seven.
            “He said that to the me who is not the authentic me,” said Silver Bird.
            Seven brushed off the brush-off. “He had to go and spoil the whole thing with that damned confession—to a crime he didn’t commit, no, that wasn’t even ever committed. If he was going to lie anyway, why didn’t he just turn me over as the thief like I asked him to? That jerk. He can’t be trusted to do the right thing.”
            “OK,” said Silver Bird, “so maybe Joy has the same face as me, but I had it first. And he saw me first. He’s been dreaming about ME. Heaven! She’s only 17. Do you know what they’re probably talking about right now?  Her childish hobbies. What is right now? Probably the fish course?”
            “Soup course.”
            “Fish? Soup? Whatever! She’s probably going on and on about her beetle collection and those tiny little dolls that she makes and hangs on her belt and slippers. He’s probably bored out of his mind. He’s a decade older than her. She’s a child. A CHILD!”
            “And he’s so reckless!” said Seven. “What if I didn’t accept that crazy theory of substitutionary ransom for a life? What then?”
            “Do you know how that child spends her time?” said Silver Bird, “She reads those stupid, mind-rotting Japanese printed-picture books with tales of the occult and legendary heroes. Daddy has no idea how much smut is in those things. Hardly a pastime for a young court lady. And she has a couple of friends who make up costumes and play act these things out. So theatrical. How untasteful.”
            “And the staff men! How DARE they call me ‘Wandering Bitch.’ It’s true of course, but still, it’s not polite to be told that.”
            “There’s no use for me,” lamented Silver Bird. “I am to die a childless old maid. I’m past my prime. Daddy has given up on me. I guess he expects me to take care of him in his old age.”
            “And my own friends,” said Seven, “calling me ‘Cinderella’ behind my back. How humiliating. To be reduced to a fairy tale stereotype. My face is so small.”
            “I actually checked on that. That’s the short version. You’re actually ‘Backward Cinderella.’”
            “Backward?”
            “You know, rich girl who becomes poor, like a scullery? Instead of the other way around?”
            “That’s even worse. Your father has the right idea. I’m going order them all in to the cage and have them spend time in the cold bath. How about that?”
            “Now, now. Before you criticize him too harshly, Daddy has developed a system of interrogation over the years that seems to work pretty well for him. He says you need to ask the same questions at stasis, under light stress, under medium stress, and under heavy stress. You then compare the answers. I forget exactly how, but depending on how they differ, you come up with an average that is almost always the truth.”
            “How do you know all this?”
            “He talks about it over the dinner table. Mostly to himself, but he practices his dissertation by telling us. I think he’s writing a treatise on it. He says he’s learned a lot of Western techniques from the Christian missionaries.”
            “Eh, not like it’s an education I’ll ever use,” said Seven dismissively.
            “He told me earlier that Three was unique. All his subjects in the past cracked, usually at the medium stress point and made confessions that did not require going to heavy stress. I think he considers cold-water caged immersions to be extra-heavy stress. The next step allowed in treating a noble would have been whipping the soles of his feet with flexible green bamboo. Apparently it doesn’t leave any marks. He was totally impressed with Three’s tenacity and expected him to endure two more levels and to pass out before saying a thing. ‘Exceptional’ was the term Daddy used.”
            “I could have saved Uncle Wen some time and told him THAT,” Seven dismissed that observation. “He’s a Four-time Dog. Nothing will make him budge from what he thinks is correct.”
            “Even so, it is SO HARD to impress Daddy. What does it say about what he thinks of me, that he took Joy, and not me, with him tonight?”
            “I cannot begin to guess what your father thinks about anything.”
            “So is the extreme loyalty true of you too? Being a Four-Times Dog?”
            “I like to think so, but I haven’t been tested.”
            “I’m sure Daddy will oblige. I think that’s why he was interested in your case. He needs test subjects for his treatise and the usual caseload is not providing them. He said there are no volunteers either. I told him he needs to go to a war zone.”
            “Speaking of treatises, I’ve been thinking about Minister Long’s comments. He is so right about royals having no freedom. I’m just a glorified rack.”
            “You’re not even that,” said Silver Bird as she playfully hit Seven with a pillow on her flat chest.”
            “Shut up you fat cow.”
            “You’re still upset about getting your jewelry back then?”
            “It’s not mine. That’s the point. If I can’t give it to someone I want, it’s not mine. I don’t even own the clothes I’m wearing. The poorest peasant girl in the empire has at least that. That’s more than me.”
            “You brat! Your point of view is a luxury. Every marriageable woman in the empire would gladly take your place.”
            “Not if they did like Three suggested I learn to do, and think it through. What is it about fate that is so cruel? Why do we humans always have to think it could be better? I’m to be married to one of the most impressive, successful, and handsome men in the empire in a few days—destined to be the Lady of the Manor of a great fortress city in the north. He’s from a fine family and enjoys a high status. Even if I don’t like my husband—or he me—we certainly both know how to maintain a professional marriage cordially and kindly. And then fate drops the perfect mate in front of me at the last minute and says I can’t have him. Why is that? So privileged and rich am I, but I can’t give him back a Manager’s Gift in this silly little game of his. God, I hate being in debt.”
            “Come on. Let’s use our imaginations on how this can be good. Think ahead 20 years when we’ll all be here at the capital together for another state wedding. You’ll be the wife of the Governor Zuo of the Northwestern Territories. Three will be the newly appointed Minister of Finance or Foreign Relations, and I will be his loving wife.”
            “I don’t like that part.”
            “Pardon me for exercising MY optimism . . . imagine. We’ll be having wine at the Evergreen Inn, the public side, laughing about how we were so young and foolish and brash and remember that silly incident where Zuo broke his arm . . . and isn’t it wonderful that our sons are best friends at the imperial academy together, or off to fight war as comrades. And you’ll give us some gold trinket at that point, like a platter or a vase, and finally cancel that old debt, and we’ll do the drinking game out of the two-headed goblet, and then arrange the marriages of our daughters to the the others’ sons.
            “I guess that’s one way it could go,” said Seven.
            But then the hope drained from Silver Bird. “Yeah, but not likely for me. Daddy is obviously not marrying me off any time soon. I may as well be a nun. All this beauty going to waste.”
            “What I don’t like is how we’re all such interchangeable parts in that scenario. Eww. So boring.”
            “In that scenario it would wind up being Joy anyway—my only hope would be to get him to want me. But we don’t get what we want,” continued Silver Bird, “We work with what we get.”
            “So, many thousands of women want to be me?” said Seven thinking back on Silver Bird’s rebuke. “It’s too bad I just can’t go out and get a replacement. Too bad you don’t look like me. I’d send you off with Zuo.”
            “I’m glad I don’t look like you. I’m prettier . . . and shapelier.”
            “Shut up! Oh my Heavens! Interchangeable parts? Might as well . . . be a nun? Eleven!”
            “Now what? You’re thinking of something. And it’s probably not a good idea.”
            “Don’t put away your court gossip notes yet,” said Seven. “My quarantine is lifted now that the affair of my stolen jewelry has been resolved. And so you will be escorting me to the divine monastery temple of the South Wind tomorrow where I will offer prayers and incense to the deities of health and fertility and drop in on my dear sister whom I have not seen in years.”

* * *

            Later that evening, a sedan returned Three to the mansion of Headmaster Wu. He dismounted the litter, thanked the carriers, and entered the house. He was met inside by Wu and daughter Toad. Toad ran up to him and threw her arms around his waist, refusing to let go, staying entirely mute.
            “Good evening Professor. Great to see you Firebird, but girls like you need to be in bed getting their beauty rest. Aren’t you going to say anything to me?”
Toad shook her head fiercely and buried her face into his chest.
“She has not spoken a word since they took you away,” said Wu.
“I feared I might never see any of you ever again,” said Three.
            “Young man,” said Wu, “it never lets up with you, does it? I heard you had been released into the custody of Dr. Long in the Finance Ministry and then you crashed the Diplomats’ Ball.”
            “Yes, after the fourth serving of wine, it became something else. Sorry that you had to wait up for me. It’s a long story and shall tell it tomorrow. Right now it’s time for bed.”
            “I would say not quite yet. You have visitors. They insisted on waiting. I put them in my study for you. They said it will not take long. Your own retainers are waiting with them.”
            “You should have just shooed them away and told them to come back in the morning.”
            “I don’t say ‘no’ to these people. It’s bad policy.” Wu mimicked the motion of a sword decapitation.
            “Sorry for the inconvenience, Professor.”
            “Come along Daughter,” said Wu reaching for Toad. Toad just shook her head and grabbed all the tighter.
            “It’s all right,” said Three, “I promised I’d let her be at my side in this house.”
            Three moved down the hall to the study. When he entered Captain Red Beard and the three other eunuchs he had brought along when he was arrested, were standing there, waiting for him. Backie and Lucky were standing as well.
            “This won’t take long,” said Red Beard. He made a signal and one of his companions stepped forward and offered a leather bag. Three accepted it and handed it to Lucky.
            “Look inside and tell me what’s in it,” said Three. Lucky opened the bag.
            “Gold, sir,” said Lucky. “Coins.”
            “Count them please.”
            Lucky complied. “Fifty gold, sir.”
            “Your ‘penalty’ for public theft, sir,” said Red Beard without a trace of humor. “I was told to put it in your hands. So now we will be on our way.”
            “Stop a minute,” said Three. “You know, this puts me at about even for all the trouble I’ve run into on this trip. If I accept this, I will not learn a thing because I will have not sacrificed anything.”
            “From what little I have seen and heard, I would say you have paid a lot. Especially to Judge Kuang. Your endurance is admirable. I say that as a professional who administers such treatments. I hear that the judge has become fond of you.”
            Toad, who had remained quiet, shook Three and gave him a questioning look. He whispered to her, “Later. And no, you are not allowed to exterminate the Kuang family.” To Red Beard, “Judge Kuang . . ., my my. Funny thing was he was absolutely charming, witty, and funny at dinner. Treated me like I was his best buddy. If cold-water dunking is the kind of thing he does to people he likes, I’d hate to see what he does to enemies of the state.”
            “I assure you it is the same treatment. You were a proper subject of legal inquiry. He is absolutely fair and consistent. He may be harsh, but he is remarkably uncorrupt, and effective.”
            “Lucky, give the gold back to the captain please. I can’t honestly accept payment for my theatrical sophistry in court. I disclaim and let it revert to the state.”
            Red Beard put his hands up and refused return. “You made good your word and you solved my problem. For that I thank you. But I am not allowed to accept payment back.”
            “I really don’t want this back. What I want I cannot have. So take it and we’ll leave it at that. I understand that the Eunuch Guard is known to bestow beneficence at New Year’s or on Hungry Ghosts to the population? Please accept this gold as my donation to that end.”
            “Very well. I shall use my discretion to see that it goes to a worthy cause, and not into the treasury.”
            “Excellent. I bid you good night, Captain? Gentlemen?”
            “Good night,” said Red Beard. “I offer my respect to the ‘Great Prince of Southern China’” he said bowing his head. The three companions looked at each other and matched the posture of their superior officer.
            “Captain, officers,” said Three, “you’re going to fully commit to that little bit of irony, you have to go a lot lower if you’re going to get your heads below mine.”

* * *

            “Illuminating medical treatises? I would have never imagined you would end up doing such a thing,” said Seven as she admired her sister’s artwork.
            “Nor would I have either,” said Eleven. “I’m much more adept at rendering flowers and birds, as you recall, but even my poor attempts at the human form are much better than anything any of the monks can do. Let me show you one in progress.” She retrieved two large sheets that were set in a drying rack. “This one shows the locations of the organs in the thorax. And this one shows major intersections of energy pathways,” said the younger princess Eleven.
            “Ummm. It would appear that you know a LOT about the male body.”
            Eleven found herself blushing at that remark. “Now that you put it that way, perhaps. I suppose a young woman who is about to be married must be thinking of men in general and what makes them men? But yes, I do I know quite a bit now. But it’s all very different when I am sitting in on a diagnostic session than what you are thinking. It’s almost always old men or broken-down laborers that are being examined.” Eleven returned the paintings to their racks.
“Your life here seems very, . . . useful,” said Seven looking around for the right word. She really wanted to say “boring.”
“Indeed. The temple has people with every kind of ailment come here seeking help. Most to pray and sacrifice, but a lot seek out our healer-abbot. Just between you and me, I think they hurt more people than they help—I’ve been counting—but they do learn from their mistakes. And that’s where I come in. The abbot noticed my skill with the brush when I was helping touch up murals on the walls. He asked me to observe what they do in the hospital and record what they find out about people’s bodies, and capture it in words and diagrams so that other practitioners can benefit from their experience. My flower painting is quite helpful, so I’m told, in describing herbs that the novices are sent up into the mountains to gather.”
“I don’t know what to say about this. You make me feel like I’m wasting my life.”
“Oh sister, don’t think that way. Most of my time IS spent in devotional activity. Praying, meditating, chanting, tending to minor chores that all of us who live here must do. These diagrams are mostly a diversion. You are going to play a very important role in bringing personal order and serenity to a man who must risk his life for the empire and its safety. That’s an important job.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound significant.”
“And you will care for his children. Raising the young is probably the most important job in humankind. This man’s sons have the potential to become some of the greatest leaders our country will ever have. Your influence on their character while they are young will come to bear on our glorious future.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this of thing,” said Seven.
“I have adopted a contemplative life. I should hope so. Still, it’s so good to see you again.”
“Same here. In fact it’s this very subject that made me think of you. And I wanted to talk to you about it, seeing as we have that special bond that only sisters have.”
“Special bond?”
“OK, the special bond that only half-sisters have, whose mothers are bitter rivals for the meager attention of a sovereign who hardly pays them any mind, what with all the young, nubile concubines that vassals are constantly sending his way. That special bond.”
At that, Eleven had to break out into laughter. “Seven! Of all our cohort, I really miss you the most.”
“Truth be told, I came here with a very selfish request. Now I feel ashamed to be here.”
“Same old Seven. Don’t be ashamed. I figured as much. Nobody comes to visit me. I am dead to our family. When you were announced I wondered, ‘What could she ever want or need from me?’ Certainly not my advice. You were always the most headstrong among us in the Quarters. I certainly missed you. Your boldness. Your crazy escapes. Your challenges to authority. I always thanked the gods for your existence because I looked like a bodhisattva saint in comparison. What is it you seek? Perhaps it’s not as selfish as you think.”
“Oh but it is. I’ve decided I’d rather marry another.”
“Pish. That’s simple. We have no power to decide whom we marry. That’s like deciding you would like it to rain one day rather than snow. It’s a vaguely interesting idea, but there’s nothing you can do about it. How is it even possible that you would meet someone to know that you want to marry them?”
“You said yourself that I engage in ‘crazy escapes.’ I met him on one such escape.”
“I see. I suppose you now see the wisdom in keeping us cloistered in the Quarters? It protects us from the conflicts in our feelings that we will develop with wider social contacts.”
“It does, but is it better not to have those feelings at all?”
“I live with women here, who have retreated from society, who would surely tell you, having had them, yes. They are now spending their days working to set them aside.”
“Does it work?”
“In my estimation, no. Let’s get up and walk. I like to do a ‘caterpillar’ walk. It can take me from dawn to sundown to get around the perimeter of the garden sometimes.” They walked side-by-side in silence, hand-in-hand, slowing inching their way about. Seven spied her escort, Silver Bird, dozing on a bench across the garden. She was bored out of her mind in such a quiet place thought Seven, noticing that the judge’s daughter was splayed in a very uncharacteristically unattractive posture. Must be because there were no men of consequence around—just effeminate monks, invalids, and neurotic women. I hope she doesn’t start to snore, thought Seven. It would reflect poorly on Seven to have brought such a person.
Eleven broke the silence. “This man? That you love? He lives in the capital then?”
“No, he is here on behalf of his father who is a duke in the south.”
“Is there official business he is attending to?”
“He was sent to deliver my wedding presents.”
Eleven burst uproariously into cackles of laughter. It did sound ridiculous now that she had said it. The other souls in meditation around the garden cast them dirty looks. Eleven wiped her eyes and said, “You’ll pardon me for laughing, but that is the plot of an opera. And he feels the same way toward you? Love that is?”
“I don’t ever use that word, but he proposed marriage.”
“To father? The Emperor? This very week? And he is still alive? Is he the King of Russia?”
“Well, no. It’s more complicated than that. This man, my beloved as you call him, he doesn’t know exactly who or what I am.”
“He doesn’t know you’re the Emperor’s daughter?”
Seven nodded.
“Who does he think you are?”
“Let’s not get in to that yet.”
“Sister. This is also very simple. Say the truth. Send your lover a letter or a messenger or tell him yourself that you are the Seventh Princess. That will end it. Then you will put thoughts of him aside and devote yourself to your new husband and create a fine and orderly home for him so that he can continue to do his great work for the nation. You and this other fellow will be on opposite sides of the world—you will never meet again.”
“You’re right, of course. He’s not obsessive by any means and very even-tempered. Boring to hear most girls tell it actually. Although the circumstances of our meeting will make it very difficult for me to ever put him aside in my mind.”
“This intrigue of yours, how many times have you actually met?”
“Four. Three and a half actually.”
“A half?”
“The first time was at the docks, by his ship. The morning of two days later he made his proposal to a carpenter and seamstress who were impersonating my parents. Then there was the next morning of his left-handed combat duel where he broke the arm of my fiancĂ© at Mountain View Academy.  And then we spoke to each other as I was judging him in a criminal trial for the capital offense of theft, but I was veiled, holding Princess Court—so in that case he did not know he was talking to me. But he did figure out he was talking to the Princess Seven and he tried really hard to cut deal for me and save me from execution so I know he’s serious. I think that’s a good overview. Oh, and some pirate threatened to kill me if I don’t resolve all of this so Three, that’s his name by the way, can go home and get back to his regular job.”
Eleven pursed her lips and thought, and thought again. “Heaven. I’m not going to ask you to repeat that because I don’t think I’d get it then. I don’t even know what question to ask first. And what, pray tell, were you thinking my part in this most intricate adventure of yours would be?”
“Well, now it sounds silly to say this . . .”
“Say it.”
“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind marrying General Zuo for me instead?”
“That is preposterous! Even if I were willing, how would it be done? I’ve heard everything. You’ve even outdone yourself. Don’t you even remember why I’m here?”
In hopes of avoiding sounding rude, Seven spoke very fast the words she had chosen to say on this subject, “Sun has been dead for five years and you haven’t mentioned him once since I’ve been here. I think you have set him aside.”
“Set him aside? SET HIM ASIDE, you say. The love of my life, my soulmate, AND my legal husband. Did it occur to you that maybe I haven’t said anything out of reverence?”
“Remembrance to me is the highest form of respect. You acted like you forgot. Besides, you were married only five hours.”
“Turn the knife. It was a tragedy of legendary proportions. How can you be so cruel to me?”
“I’m sorry that I made you feel bad. It was insensitive. I take it back. So you’re not over him then?”
Long silence. Eleven sighed. “Maybe you’re right. A little.”
“Come here,” said Seven as she pulled her sister over to one of the garden’s reflecting pools. “We were always mistaken to be twins. Look. It’s especially true now that you have lost so much weight here—and you look wonderful I might add. We are indistinguishable. And my fiancĂ© has never even seen me once.”
“You said you were there when he and your lover were in some kind of fight.”
“True, but I was in disguise.”
“Disguise?”
“A wine merchant’s errand boy, but I digress. Taking the advice of a wise friend of mine to better myself, I’ve thought this through this time. My thought was I will take you back to the palace with me and I will substitute you in as the Seventh. You would then marry General Zuo as me and move to the north. Frankly, I’m not even sure why we got paired. Our horoscopes don’t match. Probably pure politics. But anyway, and I would then sneak out and marry this duke’s son. I’ve actually worked out a lot of the details.”
“Seven. You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still moving us all around like pieces on a Go board.”
“No, I’ve actually gained some perspective on this. During the trial, Minister Long gave some testimony that made a lot of sense. WE are the pieces. We royals are things, bodies that occupy something that is bigger than us. The things that ARE what make us up—our personalities—really don’t matter. The question is, are you going to be a game piece, or are you going to be a game player? The Seventh Princess is an office more than a person, isn’t it then? I just happen to be the person in the office, and there are those who say I’m very bad at it—that there are others much more suited to fulfill that job than me. I agree and I say that’s you. Don’t you see? I mean, if you really believe all that stuff you just saying about creating an orderly home and raising sons, you would do an excellent job if that were a task that you were assigned. And if you chose to take it on willingly, it would even much more so.”
“Seven. . .”
“And did I tell you that there is a large military hospital in the destination fortress city in the north? I don’t wonder that your knowledge of anatomy—MALE anatomy especially—would be of invaluable use to the mission up . . .”
“SEVEN!”
“What?”
“What is it about this man that makes you want to violate all sorts of morals to be with him? I mean, after you get off a boat in the south with him someplace that he calls home, the everyday life you will lead will look more or less like the same one you will face if you were to get off a transport car in the north. You will raise a family. You will supervise a household and its servants. You will assist your husband in government affairs as he wishes, writing letters of recommendation or reproof. You will help the local nobility in arranging marriages. You will make purchases on behalf of the county. You will host events and officiate sacred rites regarding family and hearth. Should I go on?”
“I know all that. But the best way I can put it is we are two puzzle pieces that fit together. Perfectly. We knew it the moment we met. It’s mystical, and I never believed in that kind of thing before I met him. Yes, I can fulfill the duties of my office with any partner and will if I have to. But why not arrange to do so with my perfect match if that is possible? He’s there in view. I can’t stand it. There are so man physical things I don’t like about him, but he’s still a perfect match. So my mind keeps racing to find the way to make the possible happen, because time is running out and that window will close forever. I can at least feel satisfied that I tried every possibility to make this optimal situation happen. Is that wrong?”
            “Seven, it’s wrong to deceive everyone, especially the General. But it’s not wrong to feel the way you do. I just can’t help you with that outrageous plan.”
“I knew that. It was my last chance. I had to take it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry you won’t be at the wedding anyway.”
“It’s just as well. Mother is out of favor. It would be cold there, if you know what I mean.”
“Do I ever. Perhaps you’d help me with one last event of mine before I leave for the north?”
“This is not a trick, is it?”
“No. Really, no. It’s going to be my masterpiece. I am going to invite all of my favorite people to a farewell dinner for my beloved. But I can’t call it that for obvious reasons. I need to make someone else the guest of honor in proxy. It has to be someone safe who knows what it’s really about.”
“If I help you with this thing, you will be done with him? Entirely?”
“Yes.”
“It has been so long since I have enjoyed your wonderful cooking. I will be your guest of honor.”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Happy to help my big sister.”
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Why the pretense of decorum and restraint now?”
“Did Sun at least get to see you with your clothes off before he . . . you know.”
“I can’t believe you’re asking that! But . . . no he didn’t.”
“Why, you’re just as unplucked as I am! That’s a good thing.”
“Don’t compare me to you. I know nothing of your experience level on that account. You left the cloister on a regular basis, remember? At night too. Your chastity is a point of intense speculation,” Eleven leaned in close and pushed Seven on the nose. “Probably why it took so long to find someone who’d take you.”
Seven pushed Eleven away. “Go ahead and besmirch me. Everybody else does. Oh God, what’s this?” said Seven as she touched Eleven’s torso.
 “What’s what?” asked Eleven.
Seven realized they were not entirely identical as she felt her sister’s bosom. “Two more reasons why you’d be a better Seventh Princess for the General than me. Damn it.”

                                  © 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.


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Be truthful and frank, but be polite. If you use excessive profanity, I'll assume you have some kind of character flaw like Dr. Wong. Tks!