Nanowrimo 2022 - Day 12 Word Count and Best Bit (Patreon)

Due to social obligations I was not able to write much more than 300 words yesterday, but today I added 2,137 words, bringing my total to 20,500!

The former king motioned for her to follow, and so she did, General Wukong and Wei Xiang following close behind. She was led further into the palace, past grand halls with painted ceilings and decorative screen doors. Servants and guards whispered as she passed them by, their eyes following her. She wondered if they knew what was transpiring. Did they have the slightest inkling of the change that would be coming? The world was about to turn on its head, and only the gods knew how it would turn out in the end. Jin Xia envied their foresight.

Eventually, Wei Jun brought them to the throne room. Pillars carved with images of souring birds held the high ceiling aloft, creating a cavernous space. The ceiling was painted to resemble the sky at sunrise, the rising sun in the east where the throne resided upon a raised dais. It was a grand thing, marble carved in the shape of birds’ wings held a large silken cushion of deep vermillion. Jin Xia felt a thrumming energy as she gazed upon the throne, a familiar sensation from the few times her father called her to his own throne room. Legend had it that the land itself had a say in who sat on the throne. That if you were unworthy, the land would find a way to strike you down. Some said this was why dynasties fell. How could you rule the land if you’d lost its blessing?

‘So,’ Jin Xia thought, ‘that’s your game.’

“Please,” Wei Jun said, gesturing to the throne. “Sit.”

Jin Xia inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she took a step towards the throne. She couldn’t look hesitant now. To fear a superstition was to give it power over you, something Jin Xia would never willingly give.

The marble was cool against her skin as she brushed her fingertips over the pale surface. The thrumming sensation calmed at her touch, but no thunderous smiting drove her from the throne. The land was waiting, considering. Slowly, with the reverence that such things deserved, Jin Xia sat upon the throne’s silken cushion. The marble was cold against her back, and she found herself wishing she had kept the merchant’s blanket with her. But she forgot such things as she stared out over the throne room, which seemed so vast and yet so small and far away from this vantage point. This was the view of a king, a reminder of all that was in your grasp. One might call it thrilling, but only one word came to Jin Xia’s mind.

‘Daunting.’

She could feel the eyes of Wei Xiang and his father upon her, waiting to see if the throne would reject her. If the legends were true, Jin Xia would almost expect it to. What did the land see in her, an invader, that would possibly make it approve of her? What made her worthy of this? What made her capable of carrying the burden of leadership?

Silence was her answer. Silence, and a hum of energy against her skin. It felt different this time, softer than the aggressive thrum from before. Comforting, almost. Jin Xia could not find the proper words for it, only vague generalities that did not quite reach it.

“Your Highness.” Jin Xia blinked at Wei Jun’s voice, closer than she anticipated. When had the climbed the steps to reach her?

“I would like to sign our treaty now.”