The Scarlet Bloom Of The Empress's Blood Rise
The Downfall
The Heian period, an age that dawned in peace and artistic prosperity, with the gentle blossoming of culture and harmony within the imperial courts.
Poetry thrived, beauty revered and refinement graced every corner of the capital.
But beneath that delicate surface, seeds of unrest had already begun to stir. What began as a golden era, soon unraveled into a violent storm of bloodshed and warfare. The Genpei War tore through the land, and from the carnage, the samurai rose, taking power as the common people were left to bear the cost.
At the height of peace, Ran Rumi lived as the most cherished consort of Emperor Kanmu, a ruler celebrated not only for his intellect and political mastery, but also his unwavering dedication to the people of his realm.
He was a sovereign who carried the weight of the crown with honor, but it was in the quiet hours of the night that he sought solace in Rumi's arms.
To him, she was more than a companion.
Among all the women who vied for his attention, none could rival the enchantment she held over him.
His gaze, so often sharp with the burden of governance, would soften the moment it fell upon her.
As sunlight draws life from petals, his heart drew strength from her presence. Graceful, composed and effortlessly radiant. She was not seen as merely a consort, but as a divine gift to the nation.
It had been Kanmu's intent to make her empress, to raise her beside him on the throne and present her to the empire in full glory, as both a symbol of his love and a beacon of imperial grace.
But the dream shattered, like frost devouring springtime blossoms when war engulfed the land.
Though the emperor's forces prevailed, the victory came at a devastating cost.
Famine, diseases and grief swept through the streets like a plague.
Villages vanished and the cries of the people echoed louder than any triumph.
And Rumi too, bore the scars of the devastation.
The beauty that once stirred poets to write and nobles to weep was still there, but dulled, clouded by blindness. The cruel consequence of the very war her beloved waged in pursuit of power.
The fluid elegance that once defined her movement now faltered, her steps no longer gliding like river mist, but tentative and uncertain.
What had once been a bond of soul and skin between Rumi and Kanmu turned to silence and shadow.
No longer did he linger at her side or seek refuge in her arms. Where once there had been warmth, now stood cold indifference. When she reached for him, she only found air.
She became invisible, a ghost behind perfumed screens, a wilted blossom hidden away from the vibrant court.
Her dignity faded with each passing day. Her honor, once celebrated, was now a burden.
Whispers followed her footsteps.
Eyes watched with pity, with judgement.
Kanmu
You used to stand beneath the plum trees with your eyes closed, as if listening to the wind could save you from the palace walls.
Kanmu
I watched you then, just I watch you now. Only farther away.
Kanmu
They say I have grown cold.
Kanmu
That I have turned from the bloom that once warmed my soul. But how can I touch you, know I was the one who wilted your light?
Kanmu
I was meant to crown you, not abandon you.
Kanmu
And yet here we are. I sit upon this throne of iron and silk, while you linger in the quiet wing of a palace too silent without your laughter.
Kanmu
You shouldn't have come.
Kanmu
Not after the silence.
Kanmu
Not after the cold seasons passed with no word, no visits, not even a passing glance the man who once swore you were the light who calmed his storm.
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Betrayal
Kanmu
You shouldn't be here.
Kanmu's voice was quieter than before, no longer glided with ceremony or power. Just weary, frayed at the edges like an old scroll left too long in the wind.
He didn't rise from his place.
Didn't dare look at her, though he felt her presence like a memory he never learned how to forget.
Kanmu
I told them not to disturb you. I thought...it would be kinder.
This man who was her whole world, was pushing her away.
Her eyes watered with unshed tears.
Kanmu remained seated, his back turned to her. She could see his shoulders tense as she stepped closer, her shadow cast across the silk floor.
Even now, his resolve was iron.
Yet she could sense the crack in it, a subtle tension in the air, as if the walls of the room was whispering with the weight of his refusal to look at her.
His jaw clenched, his hands gripping the armrest of the throne so tightly that the embroidered fabric groaned beneath his grasp.
She whispered his name softly like a prayer. She wanted him to turn around.
To tell her that all this was lie.
His breath caught at the sound of his name of her lips. Soft and tender like a prayer on the wind. For a moment, she thought she saw his shoulders tremble, as if resisting the urge to respond.
He remained rigid, his gaze fixed on some distant point in front of him. His features were impassive, betraying no hint of emotion. It was if he had closed himself off to her completely.
She moved closer, but the door opened at that moment. A beautiful woman walked in with grace and unmistakable confidence. Rumi recognized her the Queen of a nearby kingdom.
This Queen was known for her exotic beauty. Rumi looked at Kanmu in sheer panic.
But the air changed, thickened with tension, like the hush before the thunder breaks.
The Queen stepped forward, her silken robes whispering against the floor. Her scent--camellia and spice, cut through the familiar warmth of sandalwood and black tea that once belonged to only him.
She smiled, not at Rumi, but at Kanmu's back.
Queen/Empress Lirael
Your Majesty.
She said with polished lacquer.
Queen/Empress Lirael
Our envoys await your reply. The alliance cannot wait forever.
The word struck her like a cold blade between her ribs.
He exhaled slowly, too slowly, and reached for a scroll beside his throne without looking at either of them.
Kanmu
The proposal...is under consideration.
His tone was hollow, devoid of hesitation or passion.
Rumi knew that voice now.
The one he used when ruling over strangers in foreign courts. Not for lovers in moonlit gardens who used to trace poetry on his skin with delicate fingertips that no longer needed the see beauty.
And still, he would not face her.
Not when her breath trembled.
Not when one word could shatter this lie he was weaving around her heart.
Was just another word for marriage.
She ran through the palace and into her room. Her one and only trusted maid Dina, hovered around her.
Dina's eyes widened as Rumi entered.
She whispered frantically.
Dina
What happened? Are you alright?
Rumi barely managed to speak between ragged breaths.
Dina placed a warm hand on Rumi's trembling back, guiding her to sit down on the futon. She watched her, worry etched on her face as Rumi clutched her chest, struggling to calm her wild heartbeat.
Ran Rumi
Dina.... he's getting married.
She whispered, as if afraid those words would come true.
Dina's hands moved in soothing circles, attempting to calm Rumi's racing heart. She looked at her with a mixture of concern and disbelief.
Dina
Milady, are you certain?
Dina
His Majesty would never forsake you. Not after all you've been through.
The sincerity in her voice was comforting, but it did not to alleviate the sharp ache in her chest.
She remembered all the nights she'd spent with him, the nights he had whispered promises of eternal affection against her skin.
Ran Rumi
Dina...can you let me be? I just need to be alone for a minute.
Dina frowned, clearly conflicted about leaving Rumi alone in her shattered state, but she understood that solitude sometimes demanded silence.
She spoke softly, her hand lingering on Rumi's shoulder for another moment.
Dina
I will be in the next room if you need me.
Dina retreated quietly, closing the fusuma behind her with a whisper of silk.
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Should've Let Me Die
It just made everything worse.
She couldn't bear the silence.
It echoed with every unspoken word.
The room felt too larger, too empty without his precious, without the warmth of his voice or the soft rustle as he once moved towards her.
She curled into herself, arms wrapped tightly around her chest, as if to keep from falling apart.
The quiet strum of a koto from beyond the garden wall. A melody she knew all too well.
The one he used to play on nights when words failed him.
When he failed to say what burned behind those golden eyes.
It wasn't supposed to reach her.
It wasn't meant for her at all and yet:
Floating on the wind like a ghost.
Like love that refused to die even when cast into shadow.
And for the first since she lost her sight, Rumi wished more than anything, to see him just once more.
Not as a distant sovereign.
She reached out and felt the bedsheet. She wanted to end her life today. She hung the sheet around a hook and stepped on a stool. As she placed the sheet around her neck, she heard Kanmu's voice.
Dina
Milady can't be bothered by anyone right now, Your Majesty. Please-
Kanmu
I'm not here for idle talk.
Kanmu's deep voice cut through, firm but not unkind.
Kanmu
I need to speak to her.
Dina's protest was silenced when Kanmu pushed open the door to Rumi's room without hesitation.
Upon hearing his voice, anger surged through Rumi. She tightened the sheet around her neck just as their eyes met.
His eyes widened in horror, and she felt a strange satisfaction.
Ran Rumi
Mother... Father.....
She whispered before her life slipped from her and everything went black.
She woke up and saw Dina who was folding her clothes. She looked around in confusion.
Dina looked up, her expression softening with relief.
Dina
Oh… milady. You're awake.
Rumi blinked, disoriented. The air felt lighter, her throat tender but unbroken. The sheet laid neatly folded beside her on the futon.
Ran Rumi
What... happened?
Dina knelt beside her, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead.
Dina
The Emperor, he rushed in just in time. He tore the sheet down himself and carried you here.
Dina
He didn't leave right away.
Dina
He stayed just outside the door, asking for hours if you were alright.
She hesitated before whispering.
Dina
It broke when he thought no one could hear him.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. Not from sorrow, but from something quieter.
And then, soft as falling cherry blossoms, she heard it again.
The faintest tap of a finger against wood.
From beyond the garden screen.
For a moment, Rumi was surprised.
She gripped the sheet tightly and her voice came out cold and icy.
Ran Rumi
I don't care, he should've let me die.
Dina's eyes widened at the stark edge of Rumi's voice. She understood her resentment, her pain. Yet her words were gentle as she pressed the cloth back against Rumi's forehead.
Dina
I know you feel betrayed, milady. I can't fathom what you're going through.
Dina
But His Majesty, he's not a heartless monster. Far from it.
The rhythmic thump continued outside.
Each small noise like a plea.
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