Chapter 3

When my husband was carried back, his screams could be heard throughout my residence.

Punishment under palace rules amounted to breaking all three of his legs. A physician examined him and said he wouldn’t die, though he would probably need a crutch to walk. As for continuing the family line, that would depend on his luck.

I left him in the rear courtyard to recover, instructing the servants to provide his usual three meals and leave everything else alone.

At first he smashed things and cursed in his room. After two days of breaking porcelain vases, the pain apparently exhausted him, and he finally quieted down.

Zhaozhao, on the other hand, was well behaved.

Confined to the rooms at the back of the estate, she neither cried nor made a fuss. She ate and slept on schedule, occasionally borrowing a book or two from the matron guarding her. Had I not seen her pitiful performance in the conservatory, I might have taken her for a quiet girl from a modest, respectable family.

Two peaceful days passed. For once, I slept soundly.

That afternoon I was in my study, reading the information I had recently ordered people to gather.

This Zhaozhao…

I frowned and was about to turn another page when hurried footsteps sounded outside.

The matron in charge of the outer courtyard all but fell through the door and dropped to her knees at the threshold. “Your Highness! Y-Your Highness, His Majesty is here!”

I blinked, puzzled. My brother?

Why had he come so suddenly?

Punishing my husband was, after all, a domestic matter. Even invoking palace rules was within my authority as a princess. My brother had the affairs of an empire to attend to; surely he wouldn’t come in person over such a trifle.

Had someone lodged a complaint?

That made even less sense. My husband came from humble circumstances, and after marrying me he had become so arrogant that he had few friends in the capital.

Then what was my brother here for?

Full of questions, I entered the front hall. A figure in imperial yellow sat upright in the seat of honor, a teacup in his hand, his gaze fixed on the white-flowering tree outside. I had no idea what he was thinking.

“Your sister greets you, Imperial Brother.” I approached and bowed respectfully.

The emperor turned and looked me over, his expression unreadable. “Rise.”

I straightened and sat opposite him. Cuiwei stood behind me with her head lowered, scarcely daring to breathe.

Then came silence.

My brother held his cup and drank slowly. I picked up mine and drank along with him.

Neither of us would speak. We simply drank cup after cup of tea.

The light began to fade, and still he said nothing. Now and then he set down his cup to look outside, then picked it up and drank again.

I dared not speak rashly. If an emperor’s thoughts were so easy to guess, I would be sitting on the throne myself.

If he had official business, he would mention it without my prompting. If he had none…

Then this display deserved even closer consideration.

By now, however, I could hardly remain seated. I had drunk more cups than I could count and cursed my brother from head to toe countless times in my mind.

What had he come for? Surely not merely to drink my tea?

Just as I was reaching my limit and preparing to swallow my embarrassment and ask, disorderly footsteps sounded outside. A maid staggered into the front hall—one of Zhaozhao’s guards.

She collapsed to the floor, gasping. “Princess, Miss Zhaozhao—Miss Zhaozhao—”

I frowned. What sort of behavior was this, a maid bursting into the emperor’s presence without being announced?

I was about to order her out when porcelain shattered sharply beside me.

I turned. My brother’s teacup had fallen, scattering shards across the floor, yet he seemed entirely unaware. He sprang from his chair and reached the maid in two strides, every trace of composure gone.

“What’s happened to Zhaozhao?!”

I stood watching him. All my discomfort suddenly evaporated, replaced by a curiosity so intense it nearly overflowed my chest.

My dear brother, the sovereign of this entire realm.

He knew Zhaozhao too—and news of her made him this frantic…

As I watched the undisguised anxiety on his face, a question occurred to me.

Did my dear sister-in-law know? Did her dear father, who had helped my brother win his throne, know?

And—

Did her precious son, born not so very long ago, know?