Emperor's Game

Cyanx longed to see and speak with her, yet he dared not summon her.

Then, he recalled their last conversation—she admitted she didn't know how to play Go but would love to learn.

He sent her an invitation that read, "The Emperor will be playing Go today, and Carmine is invited."

As Carmine stepped into Cyanx's garden, she was greeted by a breathtaking sanctuary of nature's finest artistry. The emerald canopies of the trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the vibrant flowers that bloomed in every hue. The delicate petals perfumed the air with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance. Crystal-clear ponds dotted with elegant lilies reflected the golden light of the setting sun, and koi fish glided gracefully beneath the surface. Stone pathways wound through the lush greenery, leading to secluded spots of serene beauty—grand much like the Emperor himself.

She saw Cyanx sitting alone beside the Go board, his expression calm yet unreadable.

Carmine greeted him, her gaze drifting around the garden, anticipating another player.

"Who are you searching for?" Cyanx asked, his voice smooth yet curious.

"Another player," she admitted.

He let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers idly tracing the edge of a black Go stone. "I am playing with myself," he said. "There is no one here who would dare to challenge me."

She noticed the Go board was a 9×9 setup—smaller and less intimidating than the standard 18×18 board.

Cyanx began the game, placing the first stone while calmly explaining the rules with each move. His voice was steady, patient, and precise. Carmine listened intently, watching the patterns unfold. The simplicity of the 9×9 board made it easier for her to grasp the fundamentals, and soon, she started to understand the strategy behind each placement.

By the time the game ended, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm amber glow over the garden. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine.

As Carmine rose to leave, she bowed gracefully and said, "I am deeply grateful to the Emperor for teaching me how to play."

"Wait," Cyanx spoke abruptly, intercepting her departure in a rush as if trying to request her to stay longer.

Carmine turned back, her expression questioning, eyes searching his face for an explanation.

Cyanx averted his gaze as if hesitant before finally speaking. "I wish to test you—to see if you have truly learned. We shall play a game of Go tomorrow."

Carmine left with a puzzled expression, his words lingering in her mind.

Per his order, she returned to the garden the next day. The Go board was set, the smooth stones gleaming under the soft daylight.

Cyanx took the white pieces, while Carmine played black. As the game unfolded, it became clear that she had grasped the rules well. Carmine defended her territory skillfully, countering his moves with careful thought. Though Carmine ultimately lost, she had held her ground admirably for a first-time player.

Cyanx felt a sense of pride—not just in himself for being a good teacher, but in her as well. She had learned quickly, and he couldn't help but admire the determination with which she played.

Cyanx leaned back slightly, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "I am glad my efforts did not go in vain. Since I won, what prize shall I receive?" he asked, his tone teasing yet expectant.

Carmine's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with determination. "We never placed a wager at the start of the game," she replied fiercely. "Had I known, I would have tried even harder!"

Her defiance amused Cyanx, and for a moment, he simply watched her, intrigued by the fire in her eyes.

"A loser is a loser, whether we bet or not," Cyanx said with a playful smirk, his voice light but firm.

Carmine's eyes flashed with a spark of challenge. "I want a rematch," she demanded, her pride stung by her loss.

Standing quietly at the garden's edge, Butler Leng noticed the playful banter between them. He couldn't help but smile, seeing Emperor Cyanx relaxing a bit.

Without hesitation, Cyanx agreed to the rematch. The stones clicked as they were placed on the board again, and the game began. Carmine played with even more focus this time, her moves sharper and more confident. But despite her improved strategy, how could she overcome Cyanx, the master of the game? His every move was calculated, and his experience was evident in how he controlled the board.

Though she played well, the outcome was inevitable—Cyanx remained the victor. Yet there was a flicker of pride in her eyes, knowing she had given him a much harder challenge this time.

As Carmine walked away that evening, she muttered to herself with a touch of sarcasm, "Loser." The word slipped out like a bitter aftertaste, dripping with irony as she reflected on the game. "Of course, I'm the loser... because he has so much more experience than me."

As days went by, Cyanx waited patiently, his gaze often drifting toward the Go board in his study hall, eagerly hoping Carmine would invite him for another match.

On the other hand, Carmine was acutely aware of her position as Cyanx's namesake consort. So, she chose to stay away, avoiding Cyanx as much as possible. She didn't want to risk overstepping her place, nor did she want to be seen as seeking more than what was expected of her.

Cyanx was getting frustrated. He hadn't seen or spoken to Carmine in days, which bothered him. So he went to the library, hoping to bump into her.

But when he arrived and searched the library, she was nowhere to be found.

Cyanx felt a wave of disappointment as he turned to leave. But just before stepping out, an idea struck him. He paused, turned back toward the bookkeeper, and asked, "Has Consort Carmine borrowed any books recently?"

The bookkeeper replied respectfully, "Your Imperial Majesty, yes. She has borrowed Vyuha—A Book of Military Formation."

Cyanx's eyes lit up at the mention of the title. A smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, he felt a childish excitement. Without another word, he made his way to his study hall.

Cyanx turned to Butler Leng, his voice calm yet firm. "Tell Consort Carmine to bring Vyuha—A Book of Military Formation to the study hall."

As Carmine made her way to the study hall, a question gnawed at her. Why would he need a book on military formation? After the last incident, she had learned to avoid the political science books—those were often summoned by the Emperor for matters of state. But Vyuha was different. It was an ancient text focused on strategies and military tactics. She couldn't help but wonder why he would ask for it now.

When Carmine arrived at the study hall, she greeted Cyanx politely, offering him the book. 

"Have you finished reading it?" he asked, his tone measured but curious.

Carmine bowed slightly, her voice respectful. "No, Your Imperial Highness. The book is written in an ancient language, so it's taking me extra time to transcribe and fully understand it."

Cyanx nodded thoughtfully. "Oh," he replied, his gaze lingering on her momentarily. Then he said, "I want you to come and explain it to me every day once you transcribe and read it."

Carmine stood there in a state of confusion, her thoughts racing. Why would he ask her to do this? He could have requested his official transcriber to handle it—it would have been much quicker.

She hesitated momentarily but eventually thought to comply with the Emperor's request. Still, the question lingered in her mind: With a novice like her, it could take months—perhaps even longer—to fully transcribe and comprehend the book.

She bowed and said, her voice respectful yet tinged with hesitation. "Your Imperial Highness, I am more than grateful for your trust. May I please request permission to transcribe with the official transcriber? That way, I could complete the task much faster."

Cyanx considered her request for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

As Carmine left the study hall, her thoughts continued to swirl. She couldn't help but wonder if Cyanx was working on some new project that required understanding the ancient book.

After Carmine left, he commanded Butler Leng. "Summon the Official Transcriber,"

The transcriber, a quiet middle-aged man, arrived, his face pale with apprehension. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. What had he done? His mind raced with thoughts of possible mistakes.

Cyanx, sensing his unease, began with a casual tone, "How is the work going? Have you had time to visit your family?"

The transcriber hesitated, his voice low but filled with a quiet sadness. "Your Imperial Highness, I've been the transcriber here for five years. I haven't visited my family during that time, as my home is far away. I am the sole earner for my family, and they depend on me. I can't afford to take time off, especially now, as my mother is growing older and sicker." He looked down, his hands trembling slightly. "Though I wish I could go to her, I feel I must work harder to earn money for her treatment."

Cyanx listened quietly, his face unreadable, but his gaze softened slightly as the transcriber's story unfolded. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice calm but firm. "I understand."

Then, to the transcriber's surprise, Cyanx continued. "You have my permission to take paid leave to visit your family and to care for your mother until further notice. However, there is one condition: You must leave tonight. Inform your colleague that your mother's health has deteriorated and that you need to be with her."

The transcriber's eyes widened in gratitude, his breath catching in his throat. "Thank you, Your Imperial Highness," he murmured, bowing deeply. 

The next day, Carmine visited the library, but to her surprise, the transcriber was nowhere to be found. After inquiring with the staff, she learned he had taken a leave of absence "until further notice."

At first, she felt a wave of dejection wash over her. Without the transcriber's help, transcribing the ancient text alone would take forever. But with a sigh, she pushed aside her frustration and sat down to begin her work. It became part of her daily routine. She visited Cyanx's study hall daily to explain what she had transcribed. More often than not, the evenings stretched into dinner together, and the days seemed to blur into a comfortable rhythm.

But not every day went smoothly. Some days, Cyanx would stare at the book, not fully understanding the concepts she had transcribed. "This doesn't make sense," he would say, or "I think we need to go over this again." Carmine couldn't help but wonder, in the quiet corners of her mind, if he was simply toying with her. Maybe he wanted to see how long she'd struggle before giving up. But she was not the one to give up. On other days, Cyanx would be too tired from his official duties to focus. "I'm too worn out from work today," he'd admit, "but since you're already here, how about a game of Go instead?"

Despite these challenges, as the weeks passed, something shifted. A month passed, and the daily visits, the long conversations, and even the frustrating moments began to feel less like a burden. Carmine no longer saw her time with Cyanx as a task to fulfil.

For Cyanx, the book is a mere excuse to see Carmine every day. He had found someone who could understand his thoughts, his frustrations, and his moments of silence. Over time, Carmine became someone he could talk to and unwind with. He genuinely enjoyed her company.

In turn, Carmine began to see him not just as the Emperor but as an individual—someone beyond the weight of his crown and duties. Over time, she had come to respect and care for him as a friend. The days no longer felt like mere routine; their conversations grew rich and varied, spanning politics, art, social sciences, military strategy, people welfare and the complexities of wealth generation.