The air in the Xialan court was thick with silent disapproval. Li Lan stood rigid beside her husband, striving to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, while her sister, Li Mei, brazenly defied an emperor.
Every word Li Mei spoke was a hammer blow against the rigid traditions of this foreign kingdom. Li Lan watched her, a knot of fear and pride tightening in her stomach.
Li Mei had always been the brave one, the one who spoke her mind without a second thought. And Li Lan, the elder, had always been the shadow, the one who tried to remain in the background.
But as she listened to her sister's calm, powerful voice, something profound shifted within her. Li Mei's final words, "a dragon's weary eye beholds," hung in the air, a profound truth that no one in the court dared challenge. A deep silence followed, and in it, Li Lan felt an inexplicable, urgent need to speak.
A deep-seated feeling, a truth she didn't know she possessed, was clamoring to be heard. It was a truth that went far beyond the king's love for his queen; it spoke of a quiet grief she had witnessed in her own kingdom, a sorrow that haunted too many palace halls.
Without a thought, Li Lan stepped forward. Her husband's hand shot out, a silent warning to stay put, but she ignored the touch. She could feel the eyes of the entire court lock onto her, yet her gaze was fixed only on her sister, a silent testament to their unbreakable bond. Her voice, though soft, was suddenly clear and steady as she spoke the words that had come to her in that moment of profound clarity.
"And a kingdom's true song is heard not in its victories, but in the silent tears of its people."
All heads turned toward her, but Li Lan did not flinch. She stood tall beside her sister, and for the first time since their arrival, she felt she was exactly where she was meant to be. The words from her heart began to pour out, a poem she hadn't known she had composed. It was a poignant tribute to the sorrow and joy of a king who forgets his duties.
"I too believe the poem is a warning," she began, her voice gaining strength. She then began to recite her verse:
"The king's great love for his queen, / He sees it on her face, and her face alone. / But a kingdom's true song is heard, / Not in its victories, but in the silent tears of its people. / And the queen's tears are not for a love that will not wane, / but for a nation that she sees being torn apart, / By a king's love for his own heart, / A love that has forgotten the people and the nation."
As the last words of the poem faded into the stunned silence of the room, the two sisters stood tall and proud together, side by side. It was a sight to behold, a moment that spoke of an unspoken bond between them that had defied time and space itself.
At that moment, everything became clear to Li Lan. Her father's cryptic words, the sacred vow, their shared destiny. They weren't meant to simply survive or thrive in this new life. They were here to change everything. She finally understood the true purpose of their lives.
Polygamy had caused more deaths and tears in their home kingdom than any recent famine. It was the root of all the evil in the palace, the reason for the suffering of so many women. And this time, they would be the ones to end it. They would be the queens who would stand side by side with their husbands and abolish the rule of taking many wives—not just for themselves, but for the future generations of women who would no longer have to suffer. They would become the reason for peace and prosperity in their kingdoms.
Li Lan looked at Li Mei's brave face, a perfect mirror of her own sudden, absolute resolve. Their eyes met, and in their depths, she saw it—the same powerful realization, the same renewed purpose. They weren't just sisters; they were queens, and they had kingdoms to save. And they would save them together.