For a heartbeat, he stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. Then without warning, he wiped a tear from his cheek, turned his back at me, and started walking towards the door.
I watched his retreating back, my heart racing again, until the door closed behind him. For a moment, I remained rooted on the spot, the silence of the room pressing against my chest.
I wondered where I got the boldness to speak to the Emperor. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just kept quiet with my head bowed like my mother had advised me.
But instead, I did the opposite. I let out a frustrated breath. This was more difficult than I had imagined. I was gradually ruining my changes at winning his heart. Which bride makes her husband cry on their wedding night? Definitely me.
I returned to the bed and sank onto it. Within minutes, the bridal chamber filled with maids, their hands deft as they eased me out of my wedding robe and dressed me in a nightdress.
"Rest well, Your Highness." One of the maids bowed, ready to leave with the others, when curiosity slipped past my lips. "Where is the Emperor?"
She paused, lowering her gaze as though weighing how much she was permitted to say. "His Majesty… seldom spends his nights in the imperical palace," she answered carefully, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her words struck me harder than they should have. Seldom spends his nights in the imperial palace? Then where did he go? Where does he sleep?
"Then where does he spend the night?"
The maid bit on her lips, her eyes flickering nervously toward the door. It was enough to silence me and keep my curiosity at bay. With another bow, she followed the others out, leaving me in the hush of the bridal chamber.
The lanterns along the walls burned low, their soft glow painting shadows across the silk-draped bed. I lay back against the pillows, but sleep did not come. My thoughts wandered restlessly to everything that had happened since I arrived at the palace.
I sighed as the silence thickened around me. Eventually, my heartbeat became a steady rhythm and I fell asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, maids were already swarmed in the chamber, doing a chore or the other. Like the maid had said the previous night, the Emperor didn't sleep in the imperical palace. That fact bothered me, even while the maids helped me get ready. It made me unsettled.
Maybe I had said something to annoy him. Maybe I shouldn't have made mention of his late wife. Maybe I shouldn't have suggested we consummate the wedding. Maybe I should have just kept... quiet.
"Is something bothering you, Your Highness?" The maid of the previous night asked.
I was sitting in front of the mirror while she brushed my hair. Was it that obvious that I was bothered? "I'm fine." I lied.
She nodded with a smile and continued brushing my hair. I stared at her through the mirror, studying her features. She looked young, probably my age.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Wang Yulan, Your Highness." She answered with that same smile.
I nodded. The other maids were busy arranging my things so I asked curiously, "Where does the Emperor sleep?"
She hesitated before answering with a low tone. "I'm not certain, Your Highness. But... I overheard from his personal guard that he sleeps in his garden."
My heart skipped. An Emperor sleeping in his garden? "Why does he sleep there?" I asked.
"I am not sure, Your Highness." She answered.
When she finished braiding my hair, she bowed, "The Empress Dowager wants you to join her for breakfast, Your Highness."
My heart skipped. The words Empress Dowager sent a shiver crawling down my spine. Of course, I had known this meeting would come sooner or later, but facing her this morning, after last night's disaster, felt like being led into a lion's den.
I swallowed, forcing a composed expression as I rose to my feet. "Very well. Lead the way."
The maids bowed and trailed behind me as I stepped out of the bridal chamber. The corridors of the imperial palace stretched endlessly, gilded beams and latticed windows catching the soft morning light. I walked silently, each step weighed down by dread.
The Empress Dowager was no ordinary woman. She was the Emperor's mother, the pillar of the harem, and the one who I had promised to revive her son.
My palms dampened as we approached the garden pavilion where she usually took her meals. The scent of lotus and morning dew clung to the air, mingling with the faint aroma of tea.
When I was announced, I stepped inside. She was seated upright, her back perfectly straight, her silver hair pinned with jade hairpieces that gleamed like moonlight. Though age had touched her, her eyes were sharp, as though nothing could escape her notice.
"Come," she said, her voice calm yet carrying authority. "Sit."
I bowed deeply, as I had been taught, before taking the seat offered. The table was laid with dishes far too delicate for my unsettled stomach.
Her gaze swept over me, unreadable. "Did you rest well last night?"
My throat tightened. What should I say? The truth? That the Emperor had walked out of the chamber, leaving me alone? Or the expected answer—that I had rested peacefully as any new bride should?
"Yes, Your Majesty," I said softly, lowering my eyes. "I rested well."
A flicker of something passed across her expression—doubt, perhaps amusement—before a maid poured tea into her cup. The silence stretched, each clink of porcelain loud against my nerves.
Finally, she spoke again. "And the Emperor?"
I bit on my lips, nervously. "He... He... I..." I stuttered.
A small knowing smile played on her lips. "It's okay, child. Don't put too much pressure on yourself." Her eyes lifted to mine. "The Emperor is one stubborn, young man."
Her words, though gentle, did little to ease the knot in my chest. I nodded quickly, clutching the edge of my robe under the table.
The Empress Dowager sipped her tea with practiced grace before setting the cup down. "He has been that way since he lost his wife. Unyielding, closed off. Even I, his mother, cannot sway him when he hardens his heart. So, child, do not think yourself a failure if he does not warm to you immediately."
Her gaze lingered on me, piercing yet not unkind. "Remember that you are here, not only as his bride, but as the hope of this dynasty. I know why I chose you out of all the beautiful maidens."
The weight of her words pressed heavily against me. The hope of the dynasty… The reminder of the promise I had made, to help revive the Emperor's spirit, to bring him back from the shadows of grief, tightened around me like invisible chains.
"I will do my best, Your Majesty," I said, forcing steadiness into my voice, though my heart trembled. "You wouldn't regret it."
She studied me for a long, silent moment, then gave a small nod. "Good. That is all I ask."
The meal passed with little else spoken. I ate only a few bites, my stomach too unsettled to take more. When I was dismissed, I rose, bowed again, and followed the maids back through the garden paths.
The Empress Dowager had asked the maids to show me around.
The imperial palace was nothing like I had imagined.
As the maids led me through its endless corridors, I felt as though I had stepped into another world, one so vast and gilded that it swallowed me whole.
Stone paths stretched in every direction, polished smooth by centuries of footsteps. The air carried the faint fragrance of incense, mingling with the chirping of birds that darted through the rooftops of vermilion halls.
We turned into a courtyard where a pond spread wide, the water still as a mirror. Faded lotus blossoms drifted on its surface, their petals bruised and wilting. "The Lotus Courtyard," one of the maids whispered, but she did not need to tell me. The silence here spoke for itself—soft, sorrowful, as though the garden itself mourned.
Further along, the Hall of Scholars rose before us, its pillars carved with dragons and phoenixes locked in flight. My gaze lingered on the grand doors, now closed, and I wondered how many hours the Emperor had spent here as a boy. I could almost imagine him bent over scrolls, brush in hand, long before grief had carved shadows into his face.
We passed banquet halls so enormous they seemed to stretch into the sky. Silk banners rippled from the rafters, cranes painted in gold and silver soaring across the ceilings. It was easy to picture music filling the chamber, nobles laughing over brimming cups of wine, dancers twirling in a storm of color. Yet now, all I heard was the echo of my own footsteps.
As we rounded another corridor, my steps slowed. Ahead, beneath the arching eaves of a grand pavilion, stood a figure.
The maids hushed their voices, lowering their gazes, but mine, unruly as my thoughts, lingered on him. Curiosity getting the better part of me.
"Your Highness," one of the maids whispered quickly, bowing so low her forehead nearly touched the floor.
The figure turned at the sound, and I caught my breath. He was not the Emperor.
The man before me was dressed in a robe of deep sapphire embroidered with silver serpents that seemed to coil and shimmer with every movement. His presence filled the corridor as though the very air bent around him. Tall, with broad shoulders and a lean frame, he carried himself like one accustomed to power, but his aura was heavy, like a warning.
His face was striking, handsome in a way that unsettled rather than soothed. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and lips that curved into a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. His blue eyes held a gleam that made me want to retreat a step, though my feet remained rooted.
"Your Highness," the maid repeated, trembling now, "this is Prince Li Wei, His Majesty's younger stepbrother."
Li Wei.
He inclined his head toward me, his gaze raking over me in a manner that felt far too intimate. The smile tugged wider across his lips, and I could not mistake the edge in it. It was not warmth, rather, it was the smile of someone who knew far more than he ought to, someone who toyed with danger and wore it like a cloak.
A strange, oppressive energy seemed to seep from him, the kind that warned me to keep my distance. Yet, I could not look away.
"I am Li Wei, Your Highness." he repeated softly, his voice smooth as velvet but carrying a chill beneath, "And I have come to pay my respect to the new bride of the Dragon Throne."
He stepped closer, and though the maids lowered their gazes even further, I felt every ounce of his attention settle on me. My pulse quickened.
His smile deepened, deliberate, almost mocking. "Welcome to the palace, Sister-in-law."