Huan stood patiently, waiting before the grand doors of her mother's personal chamber. Countless thoughts raced through her mind. Will she let me go for a simple walk? She hasn't even accepted him...
She took a deep breath, her left leg jittering with nervous anticipation.
Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Duyi's eyes. He stood a respectful step behind her.
"Don't think too much about it," he mouthed, offering a reassuring smile.
Huan returned the smile, her nerves easing slightly just as the doors creaked open. A palace maid gestured her inside, leaving Duyi alone outside the tall, carved doors as they shut behind her with a resonant thud.
Inside, Huánghòu Juan sat elegantly by the latticed window. Sunlight fell gently on her face, highlighting her bold red lips—painted like fire—and her regal headdress, adorned with phoenix motifs that shimmered like gold. There was serenity in her posture, her expression distant, like a woman locked in memories. Huan always knew her mother was breathtaking—far too beautiful for her time. Rumors claimed she was destined for the title of Empress from birth. If beauty could kill, Huan thought, her mother's hands would surely be stained red.
"Good morning, Mother," Huan greeted softly, bowing with her palms joined respectfully in front of her.
Huánghòu Juan's sharp eyes slid over her daughter's form—her delicate yellow hanfu, white embroidered slippers, and carefully pinned pink flower ornaments nestled in her hair.
"You're heading out?" the Empress asked, raising a small porcelain cup to her lips, sipping gracefully.
"Yes, I'd like to take a short walk around the city," Huan said, standing tall.
The Empress gave a light chuckle, placing the cup down gently.
"Let me guess—with Duyi?"
Huan nodded quietly.
"The morning is nearly gone. Shouldn't he be on his way back to Jīn Sī Què? He's overstayed his welcome, don't you think?"
"I know, Mother. But it's been... a while since we've seen each other."
"By 'a while,' you mean last month," Huánghòu Juan interrupted flatly.
Huan lowered her eyes. Her mother always saw through her.
"You're surprised?" The Empress's voice sharpened. "You think I don't know he sneaks in nearly every month to visit you? I'm not a fool, Huan."
"But—"
"Huan!" her mother snapped, her gaze fierce.
"I told you—distance yourself from men who bear no weight in this world. He has no title. No crown. No name that commands respect when spoken."
Huan clenched her fists, fighting back tears.
Huánghòu Juan sighed and rose from her silk cushion, the long train of her dark crimson hanfu trailing like a shadow across the polished floor. She walked to Huan and gently cupped her cheek, her voice softening as she looked deep into her daughter's eyes.
"The Crown Prince of the Tianlei Dynasty noticed you at the celebration. He's requested to dine with you this afternoon."
Huan's eyes widened with disgust.
"He's three times Jie Jie Lán's age!"
The Empress rolled her eyes with a tired expression.
"I want you to let go of these childish affections. This... infatuation with Duyi ends now. I've already ordered the guards to escort him back to Jīn Sī Què—since he apparently lacks an appropriate escort himself."
"Go now and prepare. The prince will be waiting in the rose gardens at noon," she said firmly, stepping away.
"You always do this," Huan muttered as a tear slipped down her cheek. She turned toward the door.
"And—" her mother's voice halted her steps.
"Lastly, I forbid you to speak to Duyi again. Any disobedience... and you'll regret it. That's not a threat, Huan. It's a promise. I'm doing this not to make you suffer—but to prepare you. The world is harsh. Teenage love is not reality."
She gave a quiet pause, then added with a cold smile, "I'm not as evil as you think."
Huan turned her head slightly.
"Well, you are," she whispered, slamming the door behind her.
⸻
Behind the delicate curtain of the chamber, a voice emerged.
"You were too harsh on her."
"Harsh?" Huánghòu Juan scoffed, spinning around.
Bowen, her personal guard and advisor, stepped out. A tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in black, with close-cropped brown hair and a long scar carved across his lip. His gaze was calm but unflinching, his face cast in a permanent storm of seriousness.
"She's just ungrateful," the Empress said coldly. "She'll rebel. I'm counting on it."
She sank back into her seat, pouring herself another cup.
"If she defies me—go through with the plan."
Bowen gave a small nod and turned to leave.
"And Bowen..." her voice echoed once more, halting him mid-step.
"This time, don't mess it up. He's Zhengdao's son. Let this also serve as a warning—and a punishment—for his wavering ambitions."
Without a word, Bowen bowed slightly and disappeared through the door, his shadow trailing behind him like a silent omen.