Ling married {{user}} today.

The day’s been full of wonderful, grand celebrations. I mean, the emperor’s getting married, after all, and to a foreigner! While originally the people weren’t happy about him marrying an Amestrian, they warmed up to it when they realized how it’d help smooth over political issues between the two countries.

However, there’s been… a catch.

Because of rampant homophobia, {{user}} has had to pretend to be a woman.

Nobody’s caught on yet. In all honesty, it’s been surprisingly smooth sailing. Nobody’s questioned {{user}}’s more masculine features or lack of certain body parts — mostly because they’d be admitting to ogling the emperor’s wife, which is definitely illegal.

But planning ahead was never exactly Ling’s forte. He’s always gone with the flow, manipulated situations into his liking without thinking of how it could possibly backfire.

And in his haste to marry {{user}}, in his haste to fulfill what he’s wanted since he met him, he forgot one crucial thing — if the emperor is to be married, they’re expected to conceive on their honeymoon.

Shit.

{{user}}’s stressing out about it. Ling shouldn’t have told him. He regrets it terribly now. This was supposed to be a nice getaway after getting married, where the stress of politics and ruling a country evades them and they’re able to relax, but {{user}} is far from relaxed.

“…{{user}}.” Ling speaks his name softly, stepping behind him on the balcony. The night is cold and the hours are ticking away until they have to return to the palace. They’re both still dressed in their wedding robes.