Editing LotS/The Story/A Masterful Stratagem/Intro
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To think of that time now is to see it as though through another's eyes, to dwell upon a woman who's so different as to be a stranger... | To think of that time now is to see it as though through another's eyes, to dwell upon a woman who's so different as to be a stranger... | ||
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She's a brash warrior, made cocky by her skill and the freshness of the victory which has earned her such an honor. Medals shine on her breast, turning her resplendent dress uniform into a testament to her excellence. | |||
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Yet as she's ushered into the palace, as she gazes upon the glory of that sacred place, the bravado dies within her. She's overwhelmed by the magnitude of her surroundings and the realization that she's about to meet the Emperor -- a man whose edicts are law to billions, who until now has been akin to a remote and removed deity. | |||
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Her eyes are downcast when she's brought into the imperial presence, placed before the Emperor and Princess. Pleasantries are navigated like minefields, the young pilot fearful of straying and offending -- of being deemed unworthy by sharp, wise eyes or else bright, beautiful ones. | |||
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She sits to eat, her frantic thoughts groping for rules of etiquette once second nature yet now scoured from her mind. She reaches out for a serving spoon with a trembling hand, before realizing to her horror that the Princess is reaching out as well -- that her hand will touch hers, and violate laws of propriety more imagined than real. And so she yanks his hand back as though from a burning heat, a clumsy movement that brings it crashing against a bowl. Its contents splash over her dress uniform, just as shame splashes across her face. | |||
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"Forgive me," the Princess says, bowing her head and claiming the error as her own. | |||
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A faint smile lurks on her lips, one infused with such gentle kindness that it allows the pilot to recover. The meal continues, and the course of destiny is shaped. | |||
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In the present two friends sit and drink, and you pity those billions of Sian subjects who only know her as you once did -- as an idol instead of a woman. | In the present two friends sit and drink, and you pity those billions of Sian subjects who only know her as you once did -- as an idol instead of a woman. |