Urmie
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Chapter 94: Warmth
🕑 Added 2025-04-27 21:14:12 +0000 UTCSamaya came to the crackling sound of fire and the distant, muffled roar of water. The ground beneath her was damp, uneven, and cold in places despite the warmth seeping into her bones from something draped over her. Her head ached, her limbs felt like lead, and her mouth was unbearably dry. The warmth was too much now - her skin was flushed, feverish. Her body hurt everywhere, but deep down, somewhere in her core, something had started to ease. As if a storm inside her veins had passed, leaving only exhaustion behind.
She blinked, lashes heavy with moisture. The world came into view slowly - dim, hazy, shrouded in a soft amber glow. The source was a small fire burning a few feet away, its flames licking hungrily at a pile of roots and broken branches. The firelight danced along the stone walls around her, revealing the narrow, uneven ceiling and walls glistening faintly with moisture. Shadows curled in the corners, where moss grew thick and wild.
The cavern was small, barely enough room to stretch out fully. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, echoing faintly in the silence. She could hear the waterfall now - behind the fire, a curtain of silver where the river poured down from above, sealing them inside. It muted the outside world completely, made the space feel hidden, secret. The air was cool but still, and it smelled of wet stone and wood smoke.
Her vision cleared a little more, and she turned her head.
There - across the fire, slumped against the far wall - was him.
The Emperor.
Her heart lurched.
His outer robe was gone, draped over her like a blanket. His upper body was bare, the rest of his inner garments bunched up and abandoned on the ground beside him. It was her first time seeing him so naked, so… vulnerable. Blood was smeared across his side and shoulder, dark and dried in some places, still wet in others. His clothes were torn, one side of his tunic hastily bandaged with what looked like strips of his inner garments. His head was tilted slightly, eyes closed, jaw tight with tension even in unconsciousness — or was it meditation? She knew that cultivators mediated to recover. His sword lay at his side, never far from his reach, and his hand rested on it loosely, as if he could snap awake at the smallest sound.
His face was pale, a sheen of sweat glistening across his brow. But even injured, even slumped and ragged, he looked like the very picture of imperial grace and fury. Had he put himself between her and death? The last thing she remembered was the man bursting out of the woods just in time to save her from being beheaded and then… they’d plunged. The last thing she’d felt before descending into oblivion was the man’s tight hold on her and deep, bone-piercing cold. She looked at the man. He must have held her tightly through the river’s wrath, must have brought her here. Kept her warm. Protected her.
Her throat closed with something unspoken. She shifted slightly, grimacing at the soreness in her limbs, and winced as the movement sent fresh aches through her body. But she was alive.
And he was, too.
Samaya slowly got up, the dragon embroidered robe sliding off her. It was then she realized that she was only in her undergarments. She held the robe to her chest and looked up at the man before calling out. Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and broken.
“…Your Majesty?”
Silence reigned for a long moment.
The man was silent for a long moment, still as a statue carved out of stone, and just as beautiful.
Samaya might as well have been, holding her breath as she watched the man intently.
After what seemed like an eternity, the man opened his eyes. The golden eyes seemed to glow in the firelight. They seemed so completely ethereal that her breath caught in her throat.
“Ya’er.”
The word came out in a breath of relief.
“You’re awake.”
Samaya let out the breath that she’d been holding.
“I am.” She finally sat up properly, letting go of the robe around her. The yellow golden garment, usually reserved for only the Emperor and the Empress, fell to the ground like some discarded parchment, revealing her small dudou, an apron like silk garment that was tied around her back and neck with a single string each. It was somewhat of a halter neck top.
As the cold yet humid air hit her damp skin, she realized that the bindings she’d had on her once gone. The dudou usually was enough, when she wore floy garments and little movements were required of her. But when she faced strenuous activities, she preferred her breasts to be held up. And since there were no bras, she made do with bindings. They were quite effective, really. Not quite as good as a sports bra, but they did the job well enough when bound tightly.
She glanced back up at the man and raised an eyebrow.
He tilted his head, not a hint of shame to be seen in his expression. “Your bindings were wet and clinging to your breast. You were feverish and sweaty. We undid them and used them to wipe you down.”
She stared at him.
“Worry not.” A hint of a smile graced his lips, eyes twinkling in amusement. “We have not touched you inappropriately.”
Samaya raised an eyebrow. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
She did believe it. She had just gotten used to the bantering.
“Why the interrogation, beloved concubine?” The amusement crept from his eyes into his expression. “We are no stranger. We are your husband. Even if We touched you, it would not be inappropriate.”
She rolled her eyes. “It is when I am unconscious, on the brink of death, and cannot respond to your advances.”
“We suppose.”
And that was all he said, before he leaned back against the wall, relaxed and closed his eyes., unbothered. So he was meditating. He truly did not care if she believed him or not. Or perhaps he already knew that she did. She sighed and looked outside. It was dark, but she could see the water, catching the firelight from inside and moonlight from outside. It was like a curtain of liquid light, golden and silver.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“We would say for about three shis”
Six hours. That was … fast. Usually, she would need a day or two to recover from such a deadly poison, at the very least.
“I was poisoned,” she said, a question hidden in her statement.
The Emperor did not open his eyes. “We usually have an antidote on me. It can counter most poisons or slow them down enough for me to get help. We have never had the opportunity to test it before. We must say, the Imperial Physician is a talented man. We must remember to reward him when We get back.”
Samaya stared at him, feeling … well, she did not know what she was feeling.
“We can feel your eyes burning a hole into Us, beloved concubine.”
She frowned.
“You had one antidote?”
“Yes.”
“And you gave it to me?”
“Yes.”
“That was stupid. What if you were poisoned?”
“We were.”
She straightened immediately, unable to control her reaction for a moment. “What?!”
The man finally opened his eyes, light dancing in his pupils as his gaze flickered to her. “Do not worry. This was a poison to disrupt my qi flow. That was the only way they could get me. Now that we are safe, We only need to meditate to purge it and purify Our qi.”
“How long will that take?”
“Well… it is going slow, so it should take me half a day more at least.”
She gave a small nod. Half a day. That was good. They had to spend the night here anyway. They could find a way out first thing in the morning. She glanced at the man, only to find him staring back at her intently.
She blinked. And then smiled, a teasing tilt to her voice as she spoke. “I believe it is you that are staring holes into me now. Your Majesty.”
“You healed rather fast.”
Her smile did not freeze on her face. But it was a close thing.
She gave a small shrug, careful not to let her any of her thoughts emerge on her face. “What can I say? I have always healed fast.”
“Even from poison?”
Another shrug. “How should I know? I have never been poisoned before.”
That was an outright lie. She had been poisoned before, both in her world and his. The man did not seem to believe her. Not that he let it show on his face. As unreadable as ever, this man. But she had interacted with him enough to understand some of his … what had the kids back home said it was … ah, vibes.
“Besides,” she started. “You said you used an antidote on me. Maybe it’s better than you thought.”
“Perhaps.”
Yup. He definitely did not believe her.
Silence filled the space, unasked questions hanging in the air between them, a stare off that seemed to stretch for eternity. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the crackling fire and the falling river. Those eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, laying all of her bare for the man to see. But she refused to back down.
Finally, finally, the man’s gaze flicked away, and Samaya let out a breath that she did not know she had been holding.
The man shifted, making himself comfortable again, and leaned back, clearly about to go back to his meditation.
She did not know what made her do it. Perhaps it was the strange mixture of tension and intimacy between them. Perhaps it was because this was the barest they had been around each other. Perhaps it was the fact that the man had saved her despite being poisoned and had given her an antidote meant for himself. Whatever it was, the words spilled from her lips almost without conscious thought.
“You said your recovery is going slow,” Samaya started. “Can I help?”
The man’s half lidded eyes opened again. Really, it was like molten gold. She had never been fascinated with gold until she met this man.
“Well, unless you can dual cultivate with me, We do not think you can.”
She allowed her confusion to show on her face, her brows furrowing as she tilted her head. She seemed to have heard that word somewhere, but she could not place it.
“It is when two persons share and regulate qi together through intercourse.”
She blinked at him. Ah, that was where she had heard it. Siwang used to hit the bed with a lover or two after particularly strenuous missions. He had once told her he was dual-cultivating when she’d asked. She had gotten the gist and never bothered to pry further. She had no qi, so she had no use for it. Though she never figured out why someone as strong as Siwang needed dual cultivation as often as he did. The Emperor certainly did not need it under normal circumstances. Maybe it was just an excuse to have more sex.
She sighed and pushed those useless thoughts out of her head, before looking at the man, her own eyes reflecting the humor in the man’s. “I would help if I could, Your Majesty, but as you know, I have no-”
“You would?” The man interrupted.
Samaya’s eyes flicked back to him. Despite the mild expression on his face, it seemed like a serious question. It made her pause. And think.
It did not take her long to answer. “I would not mind.”
The man did not say anything, as if he were waiting for her to elaborate.
She leaned back slightly. “You are not the worst partner to be with, if we are going for looks and status. Why should I object? It might be pleasant, if you know what you are doing.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Know what We are doing?” He asked, the indignance seeping into his voice.
A soft chuckle left her. “What I have learned after all these years, Your Majesty, is that men rarely care about pleasing women. As long as they are satisfied, they could care less what they are putting the woman through.”
“And you know this … how?”
The man’s gaze seemed to have gone slightly colder.
She chuckled softly. “Don’t be jealous, Your Majesty. I lived near the red light district, remember?”
She did not confirm or deny the accusation hidden in his question. Nor did it quite bother her. The accusation was not entirely untrue. And this man had a different definition of morality than hers. He might judge her by that standard, but she would not allow herself to be brought down by it. His judgment of her character mattered little to her.
Once again, she threw those thoughts out before sighing softly. “Well, it seems I cannot help you, Your Majesty. I haven’t the slightest idea about qi, let alone dual cultivation.”
There was another moment of silence before the man spoke. “Perhaps you can.”
Samaya blinked at the man. “What?” She tilted her head. “How?”
“Body warmth.”
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Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! Lemme tell you, event organization is HELL UGH. Y'all have the patient of saints and I am SO glad that I have such supportive patrons.
Hope you liked the chapter! Is something building up?? Hehe.
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