Whatever time they had that night flew by quickly. Snow tried and failed to shapeshift despite Chow Chow's patient urging, and by morning he was out the door, leaving her to sleep in. When she finally dragged herself out of bed, she busied herself packing Erden's and her things in anticipation of moving day.

After living a nomad's way of life for two years, Snow was accustomed to the moving, disassembling and reassembling of her yurt that took place every few months. Erden, who was organized and minimalist by nature, could pack all his things and be out the door within the hour. Snow, on the other hand, had way too many possessions; from her clothes to her cooking implements, her prayer altar and the bolts of fabric she received from Erden's family as wedding gifts. On top of all those, she had her carpets, bed, and stove to think about. 

What a monumental task! I can't do it alone! she bemoaned. Thankfully, Oyumchimeg assigned a few men to help take apart her daughter-in-law's yurt and load all her possessions onto the carts.

Chow Chow helped in his way by carrying Snow's buckets between his teeth to her cart. I'll see you at the new site! he said before dashing off, deftly avoiding her neighbors, who paid him no mind. Everyone could only travel at the livestock's pace, and Chow Chow intended to lead Qara's sheep to their new grazing grounds as quickly as he could.

I pity the sheep; he can be such a slave driver. For a moment, Snow imagined him barking orders, mobilizing his bleating sheep into formation like an army general.

Around her, men and women dismantled the white felt and wooden frames of their own homes, with Oyumchimeg overseeing everything. She had captained many moves over the years, and within an hour, they were all ready to march. The men traveled ahead on horseback with the livestock, while the women and children brought up the rear in their horse-drawn carts. They would leave nothing behind, in reverence for Mother Earth.

At the helm of her own cart, Snow joined behind the khan's grand yurt – transported in its entirety on a platform. If Erden was around, he'd be up in the front, herding the horses with the men. He was earlier informed of the intended move to familiar grounds; if he did not see them at the previous site, he knew where to find them.

Amidst the sounds of neighing, shouts and jangling cooking pots, Snow's thoughts strayed to her delicious husband. Oh, Erden, I miss you so. She chewed her lip, grateful that her wide-brimmed hat obscured her face. The things I want to do to you when you get back. She'd push him backwards onto their bed, climb on top of him, and rip his–

"Good morning, Big Sis! Fine day for moving, huh?" Erhi sidled up to Snow on her pony.

"Mother always chooses the best days to move," Snow said with a forced grin, fighting the urge to scream. Why do you always have such impeccable timing! Mercifully, Geriel was nowhere to be seen.

"That goes without saying." Oktai appeared beside his sister on his equally haughty-looking steed. "The Khan's wife always organizes the move. If she moved too late when the seasons changed, we'd all be in trouble."

Snow did not miss the pointed look he gave her. Are you saying that I can't do it? That I would get everyone in trouble?

Before she could reply, Erhi nudged her pony with her heels. "We'll ride up ahead, see you later, Big Sis!"

Oktai opened his mouth like he was about to say more, but then thought better of it. He trotted after his younger sister without another word while Snow seethed.

The nerve of that boy. She wanted to prove him wrong, but deep down, she knew he was right.

The procession of yak, sheep, horses and people rumbled over vast green steppes, while mountains loomed in the distance with their misty shrouds. Snow's heart palpitated when they passed the pine forest, and she was glad to leave the eagle and the wolves of that fateful day behind. If not for Chow Chow, she'd be long dead, she thought somberly.

How her mundane existence upended that night; how much had changed in such a short span of time. Since then, she has lived a double life. By day, she was an ordinary human girl who tried to be a good wife and daughter-in-law; who had to cook her own meals and survive in an unforgiving environment. When night fell, she was running through a dreamscape, training to become a celestial fox, with a celestial being no less. Truly, like Chow Chow said, she had a foot in the human world, and another in the animal spirit realm. But could she go on like this?

She trundled on with the traveling party, all amorous feelings for Erden replaced by self-doubt and worries about their future. The sun was at its zenith when they rolled past a rocky outcrop that stood high above them, like a crumbling fortress for a race of giants. She did not know the entire story, but her husband's clansmen called it the Weeping Ruins.

Don't ever go there; people and sheep have gotten lost and never returned from its underground caves, Oyumchimeg had warned her two years ago. I wouldn't dream of stepping foot near that place, Snow had thought. Something about the stained stones made Snow's skin crawl. Here and there, jagged rocks rose from the ground like crooked teeth, barring entry to all but the foolhardy.

Light was fading when they finally reached the spot they would call home for a few months. There was fresh grazing pastures and a stream nearby, ideal conditions for the livestock and people. Oyumchimeg's timing had been perfect. They had enough time to set up their yurts, light the fires in their stoves, and settle in before darkness fell.

Snow managed a quick dinner of noodles in beef jerky soup, which Chow Chow slurped up. Imagine that, a dog eating noodles, she thought while she stretched her aching limbs. After a long day of traveling, she laid her head on her pillow and promptly fell asleep.

As usual, the events of the day repeated in her mind, albeit in a nonsensical fashion. At first, she was riding in her cart with all her possessions, but then she found herself in her horse's place and pulling the cart uphill.

Gods, this is so heavy! Why am I carrying so many things? Her feet slipped as she strained to keep her cart and herself from sliding downhill. She was saved when a flock of sheep came out of nowhere and pushed her along with them.

Why am I always dreaming about sheep! I'm leaving!

Freeing herself from the bleating mass of grey wool, she took off into the bright sky, flapping her wings to soar higher over the plains. Verdant hills and jewel-like lakes spread out before her, like a beautiful, green tapestry accented with kingfisher-blue thread. Through eagle eyes, she took in everything – a hare diving into its burrow, hardy flowers amongst the grass, wild horses splashing through a stream. A brilliantly white horse stood out amongst the herd. She drew closer, gliding low, when the scene turned to night.

All was dark save for a campfire. A few men kept watch while their companions and horses rested. Amongst them, a handsome man with silver glinting in his hair stared into the fire, his eyes filled with longing.

My love.

Snow wanted to reach out to him, but a gust of wind swept her away. No! Let me see him! She fought blindly against the vortex, not able to see where she was going, until the wind died down and she tumbled into the moonlit forest of the Hidden Realm.

֎֎֎֎֎

Chow Chow's white boots made no noise when he approached. "You seemed troubled, Princess. What's on your mind?"

The leaf she had been twirling fell from her fingers. "I don't feel like training today."

"I've had many days like that. It seems hard in the beginning, but once you get started, you'll forget that you felt that way."

"What's the point, though? It's been weeks, but I've not made any progress at all."

He perched beside her on the fallen log. His tone was gentle, as always. "I know it's frustrating, but you have to persevere. I've told you before, it takes up to a hundred years."

"Remind me, was it my idea or yours to train like this? I know, I know. I'm the daughter of a celestial fox, I asked to learn how to fight, all within five weeks, but. . ."

"But?"

She looked down at her upturned palms. "I'm also the wife of the Khan's eldest son. In another decade or so, I'm expected to lead, and everyone would depend on me. Erden would depend on me. I'll be responsible for everyone. I just don't think I can do that, and whatever we're doing, at the same time."

"You can do it. I believe in you," he said earnestly.

She managed a wry smile. "You have so much faith in me. I wished I could have the same confidence in myself."

"But why not?"

"I just had to marry into a family whose female ancestors are ridiculously accomplished. Wise queens, great warriors. . . how do I even compare? It's amazing, it's like they can do everything, run the empire and raise a family."

"You're better than all of them, Princess. Can they do, what you can do?"

"No, but it's not like I can show anyone my powers! Or have anything to show, for that matter." She sighed, hugging her knees. "Maybe my shapeshifting was just a fluke. Maybe I should just call it a day, enough with this fox thing. It's not like there's any use for such powers."

"Yes, there is."

"What, changing into a fox is useful?"

"If your life was in danger–"

"I won't put myself in danger ever again. You can be sure of that. What's there to worry about, anyway? The Empress is dead, my biggest threat is gone." She raised her eyes to his and sat up straight. "I'm grateful for all that you've taught me. You've been an excellent teacher. As much as I'd like to be like my mother, I know myself. I'm nowhere near as capable as her. So, I'll just focus on my duties and make babies, which is the least I can do."

He had been listening quietly, watching her with furrowed brow, but blinked at her last statement. "Babies?"

"Yeah. Remember, I want to raise a family? I have been. . . trying for a while." Good gods, why did I admit that? Can the ground swallow me up now?

"Right." It seemed Chow Chow was just as embarrassed as her, because he started digging his fingernails into the bark of the log. "Is it something that you want, or something expected of you?"

"Both. I really want to have a child, and Erden's family expects me to produce an heir. It's not happening as quickly as I thought, though. I don't know why," she said, wringing her hands. "I'm hoping that the poisoned apple didn't affect. . . you know."

Chow Chow's voice was solemn. "There is something I have to tell you. Something you should know." 

"What is it?"

"It's. . . how do I put this." He pressed his lips together. "Celestial beings can have offspring. Some find it easier to conceive, others find it harder, and there are some who. . ." he trailed off.

"What are you trying to say?"

He reached across the log and placed his hand over hers, his large eyes gazing at her with sympathy. "For a celestial fox to bear a child. . . it's not impossible, you're proof of that, but it rarely happens."

The blood drained from Snow's face. "I don't believe you," she whispered. "I thought I couldn't, because of the Empress's poison."

"That could be another reason. But. . . your mother had said it was a one-in-a-million chance."

"When?" Her throat tightened. "When did she say this?"

"Before she died."

Snow sat back, feeling like the strength had left her body. The pitying looks people had given her, and the worried glances from her mother-in-law, rushed in to haunt her. She had tried to brush them off, and held onto the fervent hope that she would blessed with child someday. If she prayed hard enough, if she did all the right things, she and Erden would have a babe of their own.

But now she understood why, after all this time, everyone else was having babies except her. It had nothing to do with the Empress and her poisoned apple. No, it was because of an inherent flaw. For once, she felt a tide of resentment against her fox mother.

Chow Chow's soft voice came to her from far away. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. But don't lose hope, it can happe–"

Snow grabbed his sleeve to yank him closer. "Show me," she commanded, staring into his eyes.

"Princess–"

"I know you can! I have to hear it for myself."

"But you shouldn't! You shouldn't see her in that state," he said, with eyes averted. "Please, let go."

"I know my mother died by the Empress's hand. She poisoned my mother, like how she poisoned me. You don't have to hide it from me. Please."

Chow Chow looked skywards as if he was pleading silently to the heavens for help. After a long moment, he relented. Prying her fingers from the lapels of his robes, he said, "You must promise me that when I let you into my mind, you must not stray."

Author's notes:

Are you happy to get a glimpse of Erden?

What do you think of this revelation about Snow's condition?

Do you think we'll be seeing more of the Empress in the next chapter? Find out soon!