It was the 235th year of the Caiwong Empire. The once strong country had crumbled slowly over the centuries to become a shadow of its former self. There were constant wars raging in the borderlands. Trade routes were robbed causing the big markets to be empty of goods. Towns were raided constantly such that the farmers had little to sell and people feared to venture out after dark. It was an age thirsty for change.

Adjoining Caiwong were three border states arranged like a tower on top of each other: Jungpi, Wei, and Yan. Jungpi was ruled by an idiot with a sensible queen to curb his antics. Wei was overrun with corrupt generals who ran the country like a warzone. And Yan, though small, had some stability with a royal family that knew how to beg and dance on strings. Much character across the boundary rivers did not serve the Caiwong Empire much in war and conquest.

Caiwong's Emperor was a tired man whose battle torn body did not like to sit for hours listening to courtiers argue and complain. He longed for the ease of open war. An active man in his youth, he did not take to intellectual maneuvering well. His main wife had bore him a son and a daughter. His various concubines adding sons, but no daughters to his royal descendants.

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The cell had small roughly made wooden furniture. Simply made and simple to put away when the prison cell needed to be vacated after execution. There was only a small dining table and a trundle bed with a small nightstand like a tiny friend standing beside it.

The woman prisoner bowed deeply before the man who had been escorted into her cell. Head on the ground and arms raised above her, she spoke. "I'm not worthy of your presence, your highness."

The prince in his richly embroidered robes contrasted sharply with the rough burlap cloth the woman wore. His cheeks were warm with a healthy color while her whole body exhibited a deathly pallor. He stomped around and wrinkled his nose, "So this is a prison cell. I'd always thought you were too crafty to get yourself caught in this kind of a trap."

There was a loud scoff from the floor. "But, after I am executed, I promise I'll choose to come back as a ghost so I can still make your life hell, Ning Ren."

Hearing her huff of speech made the prince laugh softly, "There you are my furious cat. I will look forward to being haunted. But, not by you. My dear, have you forgotten that cats have nine-lives." The prince tapped her shoulders, "Get up quickly, the ground here is cold. You're already not eating well, if you get sick it will not be easy to get well again."

The woman stood slowly and lifted her head up. Her arms were joined in a gentle manner befitting her lowly status. But her words were intended to bite. "I never decided that I wanted to be a cat or to be apart of any of this." The girl sat in a huff on her bed, her hair was coiled into a limp snake on her head which she took down. She took a comb from her wet side table and began to run it through.

Ning Ren joined her on the bed. He took the comb out of her hand. He made a move to touch her hair, but she moved away. "Your highness, I do not wish to tarnish your holy reputation."

The prince signed and returned the comb to her hands. His eyes closed in exasperation. "If you had stalled for time maybe we could have prevented this. I could have protected you from all of this. I was trying to get you away from the palace after all, little cat. But you have a tendency to run away from me. You were always good at wiggling out of tight places my little one." He touched the woman's nose teasingly, "Bingquing, if I don't get you out of this one, who will tease me?"