The banquet stretched deep into the night, its brilliance unending. Endless refills of wine, songs that rose to the rafters, and dancers whose sleeves swirled like clouds. But for me, the hours crawled. I smiled when expected, bowed when needed, though my heart drummed relentlessly.
At last, when the moon had climbed high and lanterns glowed red across the palace courtyards, the matron approached again. She bowed deeply and declared, "It is time for the bridal chamber."
The hall quieted. I lowered my head as custom demanded. Two court ladies escorted me away, my steps slow, weighed down by the heavy silk of my robe. The sound of laughter and gongs faded behind me, replaced by the faint hush of night wind rustling through the eaves of the palace.
The bridal chamber had been prepared in the Eastern Palace—red silk draped across the bed, phoenix candles glowing faintly, their wax dripping like blood. A brazier burned with fragrant herbs, filling the room with a sweetness that only made my stomach tighten more.
The maids guided me to sit at the edge of the bed. My hands lay neatly on my lap, though my palms had gone damp again.
"You look beautiful, my lady," One of the maids praised me with a warm smile.
I forced a smile to play on my face. "Thank you."
This was the second time I was being praised by a maid. I hope my beauty would also be seen by the Emperor.
The maid bowed with the same warm smile. "Do you want to change into your hanfu now, your Highness?"
I sighed and was about to shake my head when the door slid open.
My breath caught.
He entered, the Emperor. His robes were dark crimson, embroidered with golden dragons, though they hung too loosely on his frame. He dismissed the servants with a flick of his hand. The room grew still.
Only the two of us remained.
I watched his shadow draw closer. His steps measured, silent, yet something in them was weary, as though each pace weighed heavily upon him. My heart pounded with every step he took until he stopped before me.
For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence thickened, stretching until my heartbeat was the loudest sound in the room. I hated the fact that I was this nervous. I shouldn't be this nervous because I had prepared for this day, for this night, for... for the wedding consummation.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. It's now or never.
I looked up at him. He was still standing in front of me, his eyes scrutinising me. With a shaky whisper, I asked, "Your Majesty," I took a deep breath. "Shall we... shall we go through the marriage—"
I paused, bitting on my lower lip.
I shouldn't have said that. I should have just kept quiet and let the silence overwhelm us. Because while I was speaking, his expression slipped from its mask, and settled into a frown.
"I..." I started, ready to apologise. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I—"
He cut me short. "Are you hungry?"
My heart skipped. I didn't expect that question. "I... I am, Your Majesty."
He nodded and walked to the shí àn, like I hadn't just asked if he was ready to consummate the wedding. The shí àn had been set before we stepped into our chamber. Delicate dishes of duck, dumplings, and sweet lotus cakes had been arranged with painstaking care. The phoenix candles cast their glow across the polished surface.
He took his seat first. I stood up from the bed and moved forward to sit opposite him.
We ate our meals in silence with me stealing glances at him, searching for traces of the man I had once glimpsed years ago—the proud Emperor whose presence had filled the entire hall. But all I found was emptiness, like staring into a well with no bottom.
"Will you stop staring?" He whispered, looking up, his gaze steady, unreadable.
I swallowed, my fingers curling against the edge of the table. "I... I..." Words refused to form because of the guilt that engulfed me. I'd been caught.
"You think I wouldn't notice how you look at me?"
My face fell. "I didn't mean... to stare." I whispered.
He exhaled, the sound rough, as though pulled from the depths of his chest. His hand curled into a fist on the table, and he looked away sharply, his jaw tightening with the effort of restraint. "What do you think of me?"
My breath caught, not knowing where this was coming from. I swallowed again, my heart racing. I didn't know what to say. "I... I think... I..." What did I think of him?
I didn't know. The man sitted in front of me now was a shadow of himself but I couldn't tell him that.
He rose from his seat, his robes flowing around him like shadows. The phoenix candles burned between us, but they seemed to make him look farther away instead of closer.
I stood quickly, my knees trembling beneath the weight of my gown. "Your Majesty…"
He paused at the threshold of the chamber, turning slightly. The candlelight caught half his face—the strong lines of an emperor, the hollowness of a grieving man.
"Yes?"
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat. My tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth, useless, while my thoughts clamored like caged birds. What could I possibly say to him? That I pitied him? That I had once admired him? That I feared him now more than I desired him?
"Your Majesty…" My voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. "I think that... you are a good man. A good man who has to bear the loss of the woman he loved."
His shoulders stiffened, though he didn't turn fully. For a long moment, he seemed carved from stone, unmoved by wind or warmth.
"While others see you as an Emperor," I whispered, steadying the tremor in my voice, "I… I see a man who is still bleeding inside."
At that, he turned fully. His gaze pinned me, sharp as a blade but darkened with something deeper. For the briefest heartbeat, I saw it: the grief behind his eyes, the emptiness that had gnawed him hollow.
The silence stretched. My chest rose and fell too quickly. Then, without a word, he stepped back into the room.
I thought he might speak, lash out perhaps, but he only stood there, as though caught between two worlds he couldn't escape. The candlelight trembled across his face, revealing the strain carved deep into every line of it.
Then, all at once, his composure cracked.
A ragged breath escaped him, harsh and uneven. He lifted a hand as if to steady himself, but it faltered halfway, trembling before falling uselessly to his side. His chest rose and fell, quicker and quicker, until it seemed he could no longer contain the storm within.
And then, he broke.
The Emperor, the Son of Heaven, lowered his head and pressed a hand over his eyes as a sound tore from him. It was raw, choked, nothing like the man I had seen before. His broad shoulders shook beneath his dragon-embroidered robes, and though he fought it, the grief came pouring out, spilling past his guard like a flood breaching its banks.
I froze. I had not thought this man, this ruler feared by thousands, could weep. But here he was, unraveling before me, his breaths jagged, his voice catching in whispers I could barely hear.
"Why… why did she have to leave me?" His words fractured, a hoarse echo that seemed too fragile to belong to an emperor. "Five years… and still—still I cannot forget. I loved her. I loved her with all my heart. She was my soulmate. My forever."
My throat tightened, my hands trembling where they clutched my gown. Instinct told me to bow, to remain silent. But instinct also told me that in this moment, he wasn't my emperor. He was only a man who had carried his grief too long.
Slowly, I stepped forward. My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced myself closer until I stood before him.
I reached out, hesitating for a breathless moment before letting my fingers brush the sleeve of his robe.
"Your Majesty…" My voice was softer now, steadier. "I'm sure if she had a choice, she wouldn't want to leave you."
His hand dropped from his face, his eyes red-rimmed, but still burning with the remnants of sorrow.