There were loud bangs and crashes. From his chamber, he could hear the whistling of arrows, the shouting, and then the sudden silence.
Fèi Tiān Lè clenched his fingers so tightly around the silk of his robe that he felt a sharp pain on his skin.
The royal house of Fèi had fallen. The land of Sānhé, which his family had ruled for more than three hundred years, was now in the hands of the enemy.
The smell of burnt flesh and wood made its way through the gigantic palace complex. He had dismissed all his servants days ago and told them to flee. But judging by the helpless cries outside, the rest of his family had not been so merciful.
Tiān Lè closed his eyes. Due to his fragile constitution, he was unable to fight or flee. In fact, he had been kept in seclusion by his royal family for the last twenty-eight years.
Those who saw him for the first time thought he was a heavenly fairy, not a man. It was a disgrace he had learned to live with, but now it was his undoing.
The thunder was so loud that the entire palace began to shake. The soldiers from the Bǎoléi Empire had broken through. The palace could no longer be secured.
Prince Fèi Tiān Lè saw the shadows of the deserters flitting past his windows and closed his eyes.
A moment later, everything became eerily quiet. As he stood up, his door was broken down. One of the soldiers, surprisingly one of his own men, stumbled in, panting.
Tiān Lè wanted to help him up, but he roughly pushed his hand away.
"The entire royal family is to gather in the main square to surrender!" he cried breathlessly, looking at the prince with undisguised envy.
It was no secret within the palace walls that Prince Tiān Lè brought no honor to his family.
A woman, fragile and delicate, in the body of a prince who was supposed to fight battles, defend the country, and be a strong leader.
Nevertheless, he was not impressed by the soldier's boorish manners. He looked at him coldly with his dark, icy eyes.
"You are taking me to my execution, are you?" he stated. The soldier said nothing, only made way and pointed outside.
Fèi Tiān Lè straightened his shoulders as best he could. At least he did not want to die like a beaten dog.
His black hair was tied in a loose knot, without a crown, as befitted a prince.
His white robe had a few blue-green spots and did not really protect him from the partial icy cold.
Spring was approaching, and yet Tiān Lè realized wistfully that he would probably not live to see it. The blossoming cherry trees, the scent of flowers, and the chirping of birds awakening with the rising sun.
His gaze wandered over the paths and courtyards of the palace he was walking through. Although the once magnificent golden building had suffered, the sight of the painted wood, jade, and dragons was still sublime.
He allowed the soldier to lead him on. To gather the royal family to surrender. Knowing his father, he would force everyone present to judge themselves before the enemy did.
Tiān Lè's hand twitched. He had never held a sword in his hand, let alone pointed it at someone, and now he was supposed to kill himself.
He took a sharp breath as a whizzing sound passed close to his ear. Tiān Lè stood rooted to the spot as the man who had been running behind him suddenly collapsed.
There was nothing, no sound, no gasping, no struggle for survival. Only the dull thud as he hit the ground.
Fèi Tiān Lè looked up. Soldiers in enemy uniforms had made their way through to him. One grabbed him and looked him over. The brief flash in his eyes suggested that he had not recognized the prince as a man.
Tiān Lè swallowed. His throat was rough and dry. Fear bound him like iron chains. Unable to say anything or protest, he was roughly dragged away.
"Who is that? A maid?" barked one of the soldiers. The one holding him just shrugged.
"Concubine or mistress, her clothes look expensive," he replied.
"She's pretty, a beauty," laughed another.
"That's why I'm taking her to our camp. Isn't it customary for the loser to present the winner with a trophy?" agreed the soldier who was holding him.
Tiān Lè froze. Even if they didn't kill him for being a member of the royal family, they would do so as soon as they found out he was a man and couldn't satisfy the soldiers. Right?
Ice-cold panic broke out inside him. Right? His thoughts raced, his stomach turned, and he didn't even notice how he was being dragged to the large square in front of the throne room.
When he looked up, he covered his mouth with his hands. His father, his mother, his sisters. They were all lying in a pool of blood on the large square.
"Cowards," growled the soldier. Fèi Tiān Lè did not turn to him.
"They ended their own lives instead of fighting to the end for their people. Even the eunuchs have fled," he said, shaking his head.
"A country ruled by cowards cannot survive for long." He pushed Tiān Lè forward.
After a few meters, he couldn't hold it in any longer and vomited. The soldier cursed and jumped back a step.
"Someone's got a weak stomach," he shouted, laughing.
"You have nothing to fear. We'll give you the general. You'll be his concubine. You won't have to do anything other than what you've been doing your whole life. Just with a different man," said the soldier, actually winking at him.
Fèi Tiān Lè gritted his teeth. Everything in him screamed: I am the crown prince, not a mistress.
But his lips remained sealed. The crazy idea that somewhere there might be a way to escape had taken hold in his mind.
He had no desire to die with his family. In fact, he had never seen his father in person. Only in portraits hung throughout his chambers so that he could worship him like the rest of the people.
Let alone his mother or any of his sisters. He dared say that they didn't even know they had a big brother.
All he had ever seen were his servants and a bunch of doctors. He felt no connection to them, not loyal enough to die with them.
"Cover her face when we leave the palace, or she'll attract too much attention," one of the men whispered to the soldier who was still holding the prince tightly.
He nodded, looked around, tore the first piece of cloth he could find into shreds, and threw it over her head. Fèi Tiān Lè was unable to protest.
He felt the weakness in his muscles slowly creeping up his legs. It wrapped itself around his bones and made its way up, piece by piece, until it took over his entire body.
His breath came in shallow, gasping gasps. He could barely smell the burnt gunpowder, the fire, and the blood that soaked the streets.
The people of the royal capital of Sānhé had gathered at the side of the road. They looked more confused than frightened. They watched the soldiers roaming through the streets in a long procession. They whispered when they saw Tiān Lè and wondered who the veiled beauty was.
But they did not mourn. Not for their king or the lost war.
Tiān Lè had known that things were not going well for Sānhé. His father had been too ignorant, too greedy. There had been tensions within and outside the country for a long time.
Even back then, when diplomats had been sent to find a peaceful solution, his father had only laughed at them and sent them away. Now he was paying the price for his actions. Not even that.
Tiān Lè forced himself to keep walking upright. He had chosen the easy way out, suicide, and in doing so had abandoned his people to the enemy.
There was a rumbling above him. The air filled with the smell of rain. The hairs on his body stood on end as the pressure dropped and moisture rose from the ground. Not even the sky had pity on the Fèi family and would soon wash away all traces of the war.
Just as the first drops began to fall, he was taken to a camp outside the capital. Prince Tiān Lè was dragged into a small tent.
There was nothing here but a stake with an iron chain in the middle and the pale twilight, accompanied by steady rain falling through a hole in the ceiling.
There was a strange sour smell, and he didn't want to look too closely at the stains on the floor.
"This will have to do for now, handsome. Do yourself a favor and stay put, then we won't have to use those," said the soldier, pointing to the iron chains. Then he disappeared.
Tiān Lè suppressed the nausea and slowly sank to the ground. He wrapped his arms around his body to give himself some support as he closed his eyes and prayed.