The sun rose higher, hotter as times passed and finally, the door to the throne hall opened.
Eunuch Li appeared.
His robes were disheveled. His hands shook as he stepped forward, cradling in his arms two items that made the blood drain from every face in the room.
The imperial tiger seal, and the golden decree.
Whispers filled the air.
Princess Mei rose abruptly, her chair scraping sharply against the marble floor.
All eyes fixed upon the eunuch who had served the imperial line longer than some present had been alive.
Eunuch Li's lips trembled. His throat worked soundlessly, as though the words themselves refused to emerge.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the Emperor's twin sister, and at that moment, his composure broke.
The parchment trembled in his grasp.
"...Forgive me," he whispered, just before tears spilled freely down his weathered face.
He stood at the center of the golden hall, his slight frame dwarfed by towering pillars carved with dragons and phoenixes. Morning light poured through the high windows, bathing the court in warm, solemn gold. Yet nothing could stop the shaking of his hands.
He pressed his lips together.
He had served the throne through three reigns. He had held emperors as they breathed their last, wiped away royal tears, and memorized every ritual and law of the imperial code. Yet nothing in his long life had prepared him for this moment.
His voice cracked as he forced himself to speak.
"With all present as witnesses..."
He paused, drawing a shuddering breath, struggling to restrain his sobs. His throat tightened again, but still he pressed on.
"His Majesty... entrusts Adviser Mong to read the final imperial edict."
Gasps rippled through the hall like startled birds. Eunuch Li did not look at them.
He stepped forward with deliberate care, holding the sealed decree in one hand and the imperial tiger seal in the other. His tears remained unhidden.
"Adviser Mong," he said, his voice steadier now.
"The Emperor commands that you read this before the full court."
Adviser Mong accepted the decree with a deep bow. As he unfurled the gold-edged parchment, his brows slowly drew together. He read the lines once, and again.
Silence stretched, before at last, his gaze flicked to Eunuch Li, who answered with a faint, sorrowful nod.
Princess Mei, standing just behind them, caught sight of the seal.
Her eyes widened.
She raised trembling fingers to her mouth, and collapsed back into the silver chair, sobbing openly like a child.
Seeing her reaction, confusion rippled through the hall.
General Mao Tung Ku stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Why a decree?" he demanded.
No one answered.
Adviser Mong moved forward, and the attention of the entire court snapped to him like arrows drawn to a single mark.
He lifted the scroll and read aloud without hesitation, his voice echoing beneath the carved rafters of the great hall.
"From the hand of Emperor Yize Xi, first son of the late Emperor Sung Jun Zou Xi, and late Empress Huang Su Jin, sovereign of the Yuan Dynasty."
Murmurs began at once. Adviser Mong continued raising his voice.
"I hereby declare the end of my reign. Effective immediately, I appoint Khan Chi Tung Ku as Crown Prince of Kuang in the northern territories; Princess Mei Hao Xi as Crown Princess; and General Mao Tung Ku as new Emperor of the Yuan Dynasty."
Shock struck the court like a blade. Feet shifted, and faces paled.
General Mao stood frozen, his expression unreadable.
Adviser Mong raised a hand for silence and spoke further.
"Any who resist this decree, or refuse allegiance to the new sovereign, shall be executed without pardon. Their entire lineage shall be punished in accordance with the law of state."
The hall fell silent. Even the bravest voices dared not rise.
Adviser Mong's gaze swept the court.
"Who here dares contest His Majesty's will?"
No one answered. No one even dared move.
"No one?"
The silence deepened, and heavy. Finally Adviser Mong turned toward General Mao.
"Your Majesty," he said softly.
"You must greet your court."
Mao remained still, his expression still, as if rejecting the title that had been thrust upon him. At the sight of his hesitation, Adviser Mong fell to his knees and cried aloud,
"Long live His Majesty! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Yuan Dynasty!"
One by one, the gathered officials followed, kneeling and kowtowing. Their voices rose together, a thunderous wave against stone.
"Long live His Majesty! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Yuan Dynasty!"
Only then did General Mao seem to sobered up, blinking slowly, as though surfacing from a long and unspoken dream.
His gaze drifted beyond the marble pillars and embroidered banners, toward the grand palace doors, where he saw two figures standing framed by sunlight.
His sons.
They had arrived just in time from the Emperor's residence and now stood motionless, bathed in the rising gold of morning.
The younger, Alhan, knelt eagerly with the others, his face alight with pride. His admiration for his father burned openly in his eyes.
But the figure clad in wedding robes did not move.
Khan Chi. The Emperor's childhood companion.
He said nothing. He simply looked at his father, eyes roiling with grief and confusion. There was no accusation there. Only the sharp, silent ache of betrayal.
Without a word, he turned his back on the hall and walked away.
No salute. No farewell. Only silence.
General Mao's chest tightened. He knew what his eldest son must have thought, that he had seized the throne for himself. That the Emperor's disappearance and the decree were part of a calculated betrayal. But it was not so.
He wanted to speak, to shout the truth across the hall, to tear down the wall of silence rising between them.
Yet some truths were never meant to be spoken. He promised to someone and he must adhere to it.
Some wounds must be carried alone. And some friendships... were too sacred to be defended with words.
He inhaled deeply and turned to face the sea of kneeling subjects. The empire would not wait for grief.
Adviser Mong stepped forward and offered the tiger seal to him.
General Mao accepted it slowly, weighing its heavy authority in his palm. The carved beast stared back at him unyielding.
"Is this truly what he wanted?" he asked quietly.
"With all his heart," Adviser Mong replied.
Without another word, General Mao approached the altar and pressed the seal to the decree.
The imprint rang sharply against the parchment. And just like that, the throne passed into his hands.