Everyone said I was blessed by fate.
Born behind vermilion gates, I rested my head on jade and wrapped myself in brocade.
At three, I began my education, studying essays on how to govern the realm.
At five, I held an abacus, calculating the empire’s grain and coin.
At twelve, I debated the scholars in the clan school and, though I was a girl, took first place above them all.
At fifteen, during my coming-of-age banquet, warlords from three regions offered mountains and rivers as my betrothal gifts.
And yet, I chose the hardest road of all.
The day I eloped with a lowly soldier who guarded the city gate, the entire city laughed at me for debasing myself.
After one night of passion, I was stricken from the Yin Clan’s rolls, my spotless reputation ruined.
No one knew that the soldier was the last surviving bloodline of the imperial house.
They were fighting for the realm.
What I was fighting for was the right to take history’s iron brush in hand and rewrite the world with a name that could not be questioned.
