Word of the victorious army's return sent the people of Jindu into the streets. They lined the roads, eager to catch a glimpse of the heroes from the frontier.
Murong Jin's command over her troops was absolute. Faced with the roaring crowds, her soldiers stared straight ahead, their formation perfect.
A welcoming delegation of court officials waited at the city gates. Ranks of Imperial Guards, clad in brocade and steel, stood at attention. The palace guards were elites. But next to Murong Jin's soldiers, their presence seemed to shrink.
Murong Jin dismounted and walked toward the officials.
"My lords, thank you for this honor."
"Not at all!" an old minister stepped forward. "You have won a great victory. It is our duty to welcome you." He was old, but his eyes were dagger-sharp.
Murong Jin paused, glancing at Zuo Xunxiao.
"Prime Minister Deng," Zuo Xunxiao murmured. "The Empress's father." He stepped forward, offering a warrior's salute. "My lady grew up on the frontier. Forgive her for not recognizing you."
Everyone knew the story. Empress Deng had replaced Empress Murong. As the Dengs rose, the Murongs fell. No feud was named, but the rift was carved deep.
"General Murong greets the Prime Minister," she said, giving a simple salute. "My armor prevents a proper bow."
Deng Qinyao's smile was a perfect mask. "How could I find fault with our kingdom's greatest hero?"
The words were honeyed, but the tone was steel. Murong Jin felt a familiar fire ignite in her chest. Before she could speak, Zuo Xunxiao cut in smoothly. "My lord, your work keeps the dynasty strong. Your skill is unmatched."
"You flatter me, General Zuo," Deng Qinyao replied, his smile unwavering. The formal greetings concluded, and the procession moved toward the palace.
Murong Jin reined in her horse before the inner palace gates and took a deep breath, staring at the towering vermilion walls.
"They say the Young General's beauty could ruin a kingdom," a lazy voice drawled from a nearby side gate. "They weren't wrong."
Prince Xue Liulan strolled into view. His almond-shaped eyes, heavy with what seemed like a lingering hangover, lazily appraised her. A true frontier general. He could almost smell the battlefield on her.
At the same time, Murong Jin was taking his measure. Purple robes, lazy arrogance, a slight sway—definitely a prince. And a remarkably flippant one.
"A real pity," Xue Liulan drawled, his eyes roaming over her. "Such a beauty, and not a man in the kingdom brave enough to marry her."
"Whether any man dares to marry me is my business," Murong Jin shot back, her voice cold as ice. "What does it have to do with you?"
Xue Liulan crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. "What if it has everything to do with me?"
"Your Highness." Zuo Xunxiao stepped forward, bowing quickly to the Fifth Prince. He wasn't worried Murong Jin would be at a disadvantage. He was worried she'd get provoked, draw her sword, and cause a disaster.
"So you're Xue Liulan," Murong Jin said, her eyes sweeping over him again. A slow, mocking smile touched her lips. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Oh? So even the great General Murong has heard of me. I'm honored."
"Who hasn't? The Fifth Prince, brawling in brothels over dancing girls. Anyone in the kingdom with ears has heard the stories."
"Insolent!" Little Dingzi snapped from behind the prince. His master may be a good-for-nothing, but he was still a prince.
Murong Jin's bright eyes flickered to the little eunuch. She gave him a slow, appreciative nod. "A loyal servant… for such a master."
Zuo Xunxiao's brow furrowed. The prince was a degenerate, yes, but he was also her cousin. This was a dangerous game.
Xue Liulan's expression was unreadable, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
Murong Jin turned away. "Let's go," she said to Zuo Xunxiao.
"Your Highness," Zuo Xunxiao said with a slight nod to the prince.
Xue Liulan watched them go, his eyes fixed on Murong Jin's back. As she passed him, a strange, calculating look crept into his gaze.
"Your subject, Murong Jin, greets the Emperor."
Murong Jin swept her cloak aside and knelt, Zuo Xunxiao beside her. Before the Dragon Throne, they offered the highest of courtesies.
"Rise," the Emperor said with a wave of his hand. "How is your father?"
"He is well, Your Majesty, and often speaks of your grace."
The Emperor nodded. Ever since his wife, the Murong Empress, had died, he worried. The Murongs held the army. They could turn their backs on the throne. Their long absence from the capital was proof. They held a grudge.
"We often think of the North-Pacifying General's merits," the Emperor said. "Murong Yan has no son, but he has a hero for a daughter. The family line will endure." He gestured to his chief eunuch.
Murong Jin watched as the old eunuch approached, carrying a red lacquer tray. On it, wrapped in yellow silk, was an official seal.
"General Murong, please accept the seal of your new station."
She knelt again to give thanks, accepting the heavy object with both hands.
"We name you the Lord of Yuling," the Emperor declared. "We trust you will continue to serve the kingdom with loyalty and courage."
"I will live and die for the kingdom," Murong Jin vowed.
She rose and stepped aside, but her mind was already racing. The rest—the honors for Zuo Xunxiao—blurred into noise.
Yuling. The fief was not far from Heluo. That was the Seventh Prince's domain. Was this the Emperor's plan? To have one royal prince watch the Murongs? Had her success finally become a threat to the throne?
"The Fifth and Seventh Princes have arrived!" a eunuch's voice boomed from the entrance.
Before the sound faded, two figures appeared, walking side by side.
On the left was Xue Liulan. He had changed into fine yellow robes, his hair neatly arranged in a jade crown. In the short time since their encounter, he had transformed from a degenerate into a dashing, if still dangerous, noble.
On the right was the Seventh Prince, Xue Feiyan. He was also in yellow robes, his features clean and scholarly. He looked less like a prince and more like a wandering swordsman-poet.
"Your sons greet their Imperial Father," they said in unison, bowing.
The Emperor waved them up. Zuo Xunxiao had rejoined Murong Jin, and they both watched the two princes.
"We meet again," Xue Liulan said, turning to Murong Jin with a playful arch of his brow.
She said nothing. In any other setting, she would have had a sharp reply ready. But here, in the Emperor's court, she chose silence.
"Liulan, you know General Murong?" the Emperor asked. "By blood, she is your cousin."
"I do, Father. In fact..." Xue Liulan paused, letting the silence hang in the air.
A look of sudden realization dawned on the Emperor's face. "Can it be? You've agreed?"
"I was blind before," Xue Liulan said with a triumphant smirk, his eyes flashing toward Murong Jin.
She frowned. What game were they playing? Agreed to what?
Beside her, a cold dread washed over Zuo Xunxiao. He felt a terrible premonition, and his hands clenched into fists.
"Excellent!" the Emperor boomed, his voice full of joy. "Since you agree, I will choose an auspicious day to propose the marriage to Murong Yan! It will finally fulfill your mother's dying wish!"
Her mind went blank.
Marriage? To him? That arrogant, insufferable prince?
Zuo Xunxiao's body went rigid, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles were white. It took all his strength not to storm the throne and beg the Emperor to rescind the order. But he couldn't. The consequences would be too great for him to bear alone.
A wave of shock rippled through the assembled ministers. The Seventh Prince, Xue Feiyan, shot a confused look at Prime Minister Deng.
"Thank you, Imperial Father!" Xue Liulan bowed deeply, as if he'd just been handed the keys to the realm. He straightened up. "Father, the old Murong estate in the capital is now occupied by other clan members. Why not have Murong Jin stay at my residence? It may be against protocol, but she is a general. Surely she is not concerned with such trivialities?"
He shot her a look. Murong Jin met it with a glare so fierce she nearly hurled the heavy seal in her hands at his head.
"A fine idea," the Emperor said, turning his gaze on her. "General Murong, what do you think?"
She was trapped. She bit her lip, her head bowed. Refuse, and she defied an imperial edict. Agree, and she sealed her fate. The word "yes" was a stone in her throat.
Zuo Xunxiao watched her, his heart pounding. He knew her temper. She would oppose it, consequences be damned. The Murong family was powerful. At worst, she would be stripped of her new title and sent back to Wuchuan in disgrace. A price he knew she was willing to pay.
Murong Jin took a slow, deep breath. She walked forward until she stood beside Xue Liulan, then turned to face the throne, her expression a perfect, unreadable mask.
"Marriage is a matter for my parents to decide. I dare not speak for them."
"Well said," the Emperor countered smoothly. "This match was sealed by your father and the late Empress. I merely honored Liulan's will—until now."
He had played her perfectly. He had used her own father, her own logic, and the will of the dead against her. Her father never went back on his word. It was a done deal.
But the Emperor's words echoed in her mind. Xue Liulan had always refused this match.
Why now? What game was Xue Liulan really playing?