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Loulan loved being a maid.
Even if she still has scars on her back from her own mother, it is still the happiest she’s ever been (and the closest to freedom).
Being able to talk to her sister as an equal was only possible when she discarded the (useless, fake, too polished and shiny) jewelry, heavy makeup, and even heavier clothes. It was when she was the simple Shisui (the name not worthy of one as her; the name her sister deserved) that she could be herself.
Simple, smiling, unpolished, random to a fault, and unapologetically her.
She believed it was worthwhile enough just to be able to talk to Shisui. Even if she’d become something close to acquaintances with other maids in the castle — never with her own, though, they couldn’t even bear to see her as anything but superior and otherwise — it was still better than the fake and stuck-up formality her parents desired of her. Escaping the emperor was a sweet addition to that, though not always possible (so thank the gods for the gifts of nature that made her avoid a destiny unfit for her, as a flower forever stuck in the palace harem).
What she didn’t expect was meeting Xiaolan first, the bubbly and too naive for her own good girl. The younger girl had a quality to her that made even Loulan… trust someone else, for a change. If she had had a younger sister, one like Xiaolan would’ve been perfect. But then again, with her family as it was… It was a blessing that only she and her older sister would have to suffer so.
Much too fast for her own security, and to her surprise, she found herself thinking of Xiaolan as a friend. A true friend, if one she couldn’t put too much trust in or a grain of salt on her words. Still, meeting someone so pure, so without malice in a world like theirs… was truly a gift.
And Xiaolan brought gifts with her: aside from her ever-present good humor (even as her family situation was also nothing to smile about, and yet the girl knew how to smile truly and happily, unlike Loulan), she brought another surprise to Loulan’s life.
Mao Mao.
Not just another (extremely rare) friend (especially at such a time in her life).
But someone she could perhaps trust even more. Someone who understood the palace politics unlike any other servant. To a point, Loulan and Suirei immediately investigated the young apothecary’s origins (Suirei long before her, even). It was such an unlikely person to be in an even more unlikely position.
While Xiaolan was a little sister Loulan would’ve adored, Mao Mao was a peer. An equal. Someone who understood the constraints this noble and rules-obsessed world had. And who knew better than anyone else the value of freedom.
Mao Mao was so similar to dear, hurt Suirei, who’d also been done dirty by the wrong history, the wrong parentage, the bad luck coupled with finding one good father figure… it was sometimes too nostalgic, too comfortable to talk to Mao Mao.
Loulan slipped around her a lot. She made comments she’d later think about during the entire night (especially when the emperor came to visit) or things she’d discuss with Suirei and find out she did, indeed, mess up. Even the ghost story, which was so innocent, was something Loulan noticed Mao Mao did not forget. Yet another puzzle in an assortment of puzzles the apothecary kept in her mind.
It was stupid. It was dangerous. Trusting a stranger this much, especially at this advanced stage of their plan… knowing what she knew. Loulan couldn’t even involve dear Suirei in her most secret scheme. Then how could she think of involving Mao Mao, someone completely outside their circle or family drama? Someone who didn’t deserve to be dragged into more (considering she had her share of drama and pain to deal with).
But Loulan was selfish. Perhaps not as much as her mother. But absolutely not to the level of selfless love Suirei had (despite what her sister believed).
Loulan was also a coward. Perhaps not to the degree of her father. But they were certainly actors, the two of them. The tanukis of the court: impossible to read, tricksters to a fault.
This was part of her nature; even the free maid Shisui did not leave her tanuki real self.
And maybe it was because Mao Mao never looked at her with eyes of complete trust. Those eyes that were always observing, analyzing, and trying to build a puzzle. The gaze of trust sweet little Xiaolan gained from Mao Mao — and even Shisui herself — was one reserved for the naive, kind girl only.
Shisui (Loulan) and Mao Mao thought… It was a battle of wits and analysis from the beginning. One Loulan started with the upper hand thanks to her maid situation.
Though she knew Mao Mao was smart. She could find out everything and easily enough. Maybe find a way to solve some of Loulan’s problems… or better yet, be a friend to Suirei. They were so similar… it would be perfect. They could truly become best friends.
(If only Loulan could as well… but maybe Shisui could. Even if for such a short time.)
The would-be empress wishes for no such title. Rather, she would prefer to search for bugs all day long and update her mind encyclopedia. Eat more of that delicious, sweet, her wonderfully smart friend came up with! Spend all day having fun with her two friends and taking a bath to unwind (so much better than the empty, big bath in her own room). Join in any of Mao Mao’s random quests (they were always so fun!) or join a ghost stories session, even a nightly one. Anything but spend her time pretending to be someone she was not.
The heavy makeup that removes any of what makes her face unique, the clothes filled with too many layers for one to walk with any freedom (or even go to the bathroom), the mask she must wear to be the perfect noble. The perfect daughter, one cruel and cold, fittingly for her mother. The sister who ignores the existence of her own blood, fittingly, to her father’s attitude.
Loulan is the mask.
Shisui, the maid, is who she wishes she could be. But even that name is false, one unfit for her. It is a name fit for someone far kinder, profound, and worthy of a good life.
The time is drawing near, and she knows this time as Shisui must end. But by the gods, she wishes it didn’t.
In a perfect world, she would wake up and meet Xiaolan and Mao Mao daily. None of them as servants either. Just normal girls, with no hierarchy or rulers to make them bow down and force loyalty out of them. Young girls who want to explore the world, learn, have their own particular fun, and get to be who they really are. Xiaolan and Mao Mao know who they are and live their truth. Maybe in a world like this… even Loulan could. She could have a name that would truly fit her. And no obligations to her family, the emperor, or anyone else.
In such a world, she could tell her best friends and sisters all her secrets. And her companions would be ones she picked with her own heart.
“My lady, will you leave for the day?”
Loulan is brought back to the real world by her maid’s soft-spoken (but scared) words. She turns around and meets her face (as they avoid looking her in the eyes, orders from her mother).
The maid continues, “The emperor shall visit you tonight, my lady.”
And with that, Loulan’s mood sours. This is the one duty she must do, lest her servants get found out, or worse. If she must dutifully fulfill her role at night, then she is owed a little freedom beforehand, no?
Loulan, now Shisui, smiles at her and jumps from her chair. There would be no makeup or clothes (for now).
“Indeed I will!” She can hear the silent sighs of her servants, so worried every time she leaves. It pains her (and adds to her mounting guilt) but she won’t let the small pleasures of life escape her, especially as the end is drawing near. “No worries, I’ll be back at night.”
At that, her servant audibly sighed and bowed further.
Loulan will be back to fulfill her duties.
Meanwhile, Shisui will go out and fulfill her own desires. Her two (best) friends are waiting for her after all.