Flickering
*
When Hua Min is born it is the breast of summer. Her mother has laboured for 12 hours and heavy sweat streaks the line of her brow.
When the undetermined baby is born Concubine Ming feels a rush of relief (—and behind it the budding thrill of victory—). This newly blooming feeling is swiftly stomped out.
When Hua Min is born her concubine mother frantically asks what she is. She reaches for her —grasping and desperate— excited to meet what she knows will be the only child she is to be blessed with —cursed with—. It is said that upon discovering that she was a girl she burst into tears of joy. That she grasped her child close, overwhelmed by the sheer joy of adding to the imperial genealogy and all her servants rejoiced with her.
To Hua Li that story was one of derisive sarcasm.
*
Upon her Concubine Mother’s discovery that Hua Li was a Beta girl, her mother focused her sharpened gaze (—bewildered and desperate—)upon the sole imperial doctor. She stares at his comfortable double chin, at the frayed cuffs of his sleeves and the defeated slope of his shoulders and states ‘If it was a boy I would have named it Ozai.’ (—She knows he is the same as her, abandoned—). Her gaze slides away, slow and contemplative before asking ‘What can be done?’
Hua Min who at that point is nameless is not spared even a cursory glance as she is whispered away from the room, bird like coos giving rise to the curling noises of discomfort. The wet nurse keeps her gaze firmly locked on the floor acting as if the words shared were wind through the trees.(—People have been killed for hearing less, and she is not fool enough to die for a bastard beta princess.—)
For the first three years of her life Hua Min was nameless(—forgotten, ignored, unwanted—). If she was addressed it was by the term ‘First Princess’ by her attendants, or through a passive ‘girl’ by her mother.
Her first name was given cheaply. Her Concubine mother expending very little effort and energy in either its meaning or its composition. It was not until her mother could no longer completely ignore her that she received a name — Hua Li. She had gazed lazily out the window languishing at the(—empty as always, nobody comes to see the lone concubine—) receiving room table that faced her courtyard gardens when she had come up with it. Hua for flower and Li for pretty. ‘Pretty flower.’ She was to be purely ornamental.(—Do not speak girl. You have not been addressed. Nor will you be, savage dirty thing—).
Hua Min only received her new name once her mother had found a purpose for her (—You will repeat yourself. — It would seem that head of yours if more than a decorative bauble.—) and with that her lessons begun at the ripe age of 6. This she was transformed from Hua Li to Hua Min. The character for clever.
Hua Min was her mothers biggest failure. A permanent reminder of her inability to deliver a viable imperial heir.
This however, does not stop Hua Min from becoming her mothers’ weapon.
And so, like the slow curling smoke of incense, Hua Min grows, as alluring and as dangerous as a nerium oleander.