On the imperial road, the grand army marched. Their pace was unified, their faces alight with the pride of victory.
At the heart of the column rode a general in silver armor. The banners bowed to her passage. The whispers said it all—she was a woman.
After a long moment, she turned to the man at her side. "Have the army make camp outside the walls," she said with a smile. "We enter alone."
The man beside her was handsome, his smile warm. "The order is given."
A look of understanding passed over Murong Jin's face. Zuo Xunxiao was one of her father's most trusted commanders. A rare talent. He had faced death with her many times. That was why her father had sent him.
"How long in Jindu this time?" Zuo Xunxiao asked, keeping his horse level with hers.
Murong Jin just shook her head.
"You don't know?"
"Not my decision," she answered, a helpless smile on her face. "You know Father. He wants me to settle down. Marry, have children."
Zuo Xunxiao laughed. "You're not getting any younger. Time to settle. A woman can't spend her life on the frontier."
She glanced at her hands on the reins. Her hands—rough and calloused from years with a sword—looked more like a soldier's than a lady's.
A soft laugh escaped her. "Xunxiao, after they make me a lord… what man will dare marry me?"
He just smiled and shook his head. Murong Jin was the dynasty's finest female general. Her new title would eclipse most men's ambitions. Besides, he knew her. She was not a woman to be confined.
With an honor guard of one hundred elite soldiers, they broke from the main host and rode toward the capital. In the distance, the sun caught the golden roofs of Jindu, the heart of the kingdom—and the gilded cage that awaited her.
"Gods, Your Highness! Still drinking?"
Little Dingzi's voice was a pained whisper from the doorway. "General Murong's army is about to enter the city!" The young eunuch paced back and forth, his face tight with worry.
He thought of the others from his generation at the palace. Little Guizi served the Seventh Prince, who was already a king at eighteen. His own master? Prince Xue Liulan was past twenty and still just a prince. He had no skills to speak of, aside from drinking, gambling, and bedding women.
Of course, royal titles were earned with heroic deeds. His master had none. How could the dignified Empress Murong have a son who'd inherited none of her strength?
But a servant's worries were useless. His job was to stop his master from burning the whole world down. Because when trouble started, the servants were the ones who got burned.
"Little Dingzi." A voice, thick with wine, called from inside the room.
"Here, Your Highness." He answered, his stomach twisting. Hopelessly drunk. If the prince caused trouble at the banquet tonight, they would all suffer. Little Dingzi could still feel the sting of thirty lashes. That was their punishment for "failing to restrain" the prince after he'd insulted a consort.
"What are you yelling about out there?"
"General Murong… has returned, Your Highness," Little Dingzi said, his voice loud enough to cut through the women's laughter. "His Majesty asks for you at the palace feast."
A girl giggled. "You're wicked, Your Highness." The prince's deep laughter followed.
The door groaned open, and a handsome noble stumbled into view. His deep-purple robe hung half open, his jeweled sash dangling from one hand. His jade crown was crooked. He gave his servant a lazy, hazy look from his almond-shaped eyes.
Little Dingzi rushed to straighten his master's robes.
"You said Murong is back?" the prince asked slowly.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Which one?"
"The one guarding the northern frontier."
"Don't be an idiot. I know the Murongs guard the north from the raiders. Who is it? Murong Yan?"
The sharp tone made Little Dingzi flinch. He'd made a mistake. The whole dynasty knew Murong Yan was the old general. But he had no sons, only a daughter. Her name was already a legend. Her battlefield triumphs had made her the dynasty's first female general.
"It is the Young General, Your Highness."
Something shifted in the prince's drunken eyes. He straightened up a bit, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "So… Murong Jin is back." He said her name slowly, as if tasting it. "How… interesting."
He leaned against the door, swaying. Last night's wine and all of today's had caught up to him.
"Your Highness," Little Dingzi tried softly. "Shall I call for a carriage?"
"Stop talking," the prince ordered, his voice suddenly sharp. "Lead the way."
Master and servant departed, one following the other. At their backs, the door to the suite swung slowly shut, swallowing the figures within. From the growing darkness, two men's voices murmured.
"What do you think?"
"Worth a try."