Li Yunzhen enjoyed her scheming: pretending to go behind her brother’s back, making contact with dissatisfied courtiers, carefully putting all the pieces in place. Such acts tested her abilities and gave her much to contemplate during the interminable stretches of time when she played the indolent aesthetically-focused noble lady lounging in her home.
Being seen as frivolous allowed you to be underestimated.
It could also be very boring.
At least now she had someone interesting to entertain herself with, Li Yunzhen thought, eying her newest guard. Gu Xuanqing moved through her rooms with a blank expression, careful movements, and a truly beautiful bearing. Attractiveness was not the most important of Gu Xuanqing’s traits, save for how it gave her license to let her gaze linger upon him, to call him to her side more often than might otherwise be reasonable, and to disarm any thoughts of favoritism. In those ways, it was quite useful.
She enjoyed his martial skill as well; it was just as much a prerequisite for his acceptance into her guard as his handsome face. But she was most taken by his eyes. Li Yunzhen saw them flicker to every corner of every room, noted how he kept track of every person present, and knew that few others would be able to tell just how aware Gu Xuanqing was.
She could, of course, because she hid the same attentiveness.
Gu Xuanqing was a clever man; in that, he reminded her of herself. Even if Li Yunzhen hadn’t known Gu Xuanqing was a pawn on the field, she would have guessed he was more than he seemed.
The only question was what he would notice about her in turn. And, once he saw her, what he would do about it.
Li Yunzhen was certain it would be interesting.
The only problem with Gu Xuanqing was that Li Yunzhen was starting to like him.
It was so easy to tease him at first. She flirted with many of her guards, after all; it would be notable if she avoided Gu Xuanqing. Unlike her other guards, however, Gu Xuanqing found subtle ways to flirt back.
Most impressively of all, he made every effort to avoid actual impropriety.
Li Yunzhen remembered the warmth of his skin, the scent of leather and metal that surrounded him, the strength of his limbs. She thought about his touch, perhaps too much, when she was alone. Gu Xuanqing was a warrior, lithe body and dedicated soul, and Li Yunzhen wanted him.
It meant that she was terribly disappointed when Gu Xuanqing finally made a mistake and she was forced to punish him.
Li Yunzhen rubbed her forehead delicately. Her brother’s spy was perfectly safe so long as nobody else knew who he was; once anyone outside their plot knew, she could no longer provide Gu Xuanqing with the shield of her power.
He was so eager to serve her, his pulse firm against her palm as she saw schemes in his eyes. He was so uncomplaining, kneeling for long hours in the rain to serve his punishment. He was so stubborn, accepting every torment heaped upon him even when everyone involved knew it was too much.
Gu Xuanqing was perfect, and in this one way her cover was truth: Li Yunzhen couldn’t resist perfection.
She was simply looking for something different than the court expected. Physical beauty would fade one day; a moral center and devoted loyalty would mature and grow stronger with every challenge it was honed upon.
And so, even knowing their plans would bring pain, Li Yunzhen took Gu Xuanqing to bed.
With her brother’s throne secured, and their secrets no longer secret, Li Yunzhen waited only for Gu Xuanqing’s wounds to heal before taking him to a secluded manor. Withdrawal was not her preferred style, but Li Chenglin needed to establish his own court without her casting a shadow over his decisions.
Plus, her hand-picked servants wouldn’t gossip about what—or, more accurately, who—Li Yunzhen wished to spend her time doing.
She laid into Gu Xuanqing with words and nails, and laved the scratches she left with her tongue as he writhed beneath her. She drew his sword and watched him tremble—eyes dark with trust and arousal—as she struck him with its flat; gently enough that he was not cut, firmly enough that he cried out. She shoved him down onto her bed and straddled him, ordering him to keep his hands to himself, and sank onto him as his desire warred with his obedience.
Obedience won, every time, and Li Yunzhen praised him for it, over and over, as she pleased herself upon his willing form.
Li Yunzhen had appreciated him before, but now, with no plots between them, love was easier still. He smiled more easily when there was nothing to hide, his admiration clear for everyone to see. Li Yunzhen heard the servants giggling about it, but she also heard them whisper that their princess seemed happier than she had been in a long time.
It was true. Li Yunzhen had found a man who loved her for her intellect, liked when she told him what to do, and was devoted to her.
What more could a woman want?
(Political power, she supposed, but Li Yunzhen could easily regain that once she returned to court. Gu Xuanqing was a rarer, and thus more precious, find.)