The Empress
I first met the Empress right after the war. I was assigned military attaché and tasked with keeping her informed about our occupation. Nearly two years, we met daily in the morning, sitting side by side on two wooden chairs confined by a small rug. The room was long and void of any decoration. We faced the windows, looking out at a courtyard filled with cherry trees. I saw those trees bloom twice during my imperial assignment. Still her face never changed expression, nor did she utter a word in response to my briefings. Many years later, I learned about a little girl taken from her family and village, then given to the emperor who desired a bride. I once believed her silence to be the humility of a nation defeated. Yet maybe her soul was vanquished long before.
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