Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Before he turned one, his life had been in danger.

Father's enemy had bribed his wet nurse to poison his food. I had loved my little brother dearly. Even when I gave him water, I tasted it first, afraid it might be too hot.

He had escaped unharmed.

The poison had nearly killed me.

It seemed everyone in the prince's household was alike. Father thought nothing of the eight years I had spent as their hostage. Hanzhu acted as though they had never happened. Ruoheng took the saving of his life for granted.

“If I had known that the little brother I held and soothed to sleep would grow up to be someone like you...” I said coldly.

He went pale, sensing that he would not like what came next.

But I did not stop. I was done enduring it.

“I should have thrown you down and killed you back then.”

His chest heaved, and his eyes reddened.

“How can you say that? I'm your brother!”

He had ceased to be that long ago.

“I have no brother like you,” I said scornfully. “You disgust me.”

The Emperor had noticed us and heard a little of our exchange. He pretended not to see and looked away.

Father had made his choice: he would give up Hanzhu's title to protect her. His Majesty was about to issue a decree granting the reward when a eunuch's voice rang out from outside.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, something terrible has happened!”

A long shadow stretched across the floor.

My brow throbbed. Suddenly, I could not breathe.

The Empress Dowager's matron came in behind the eunuch, stumbling, her eyes red.

“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has passed away.”

Light and shadow seemed to stretch through the hall. Everything before me shook and crumbled into countless white fragments.

For a moment, I might have been standing in wind and snow. My teeth chattered.

The Emperor staggered back, stunned.

I shoved Ruoheng out of my path. Terror gripped my heart as I gathered my skirts and ran.

There was nothing in my ears but a bitter wind.

By the time I came to my senses, I was kneeling before the Empress Dowager's bed.

The matron held me as I shook, weeping so hard she could barely speak.

“My lady, she's gone. She loved you more than anyone. She could never bear to see you cry.”

The Emperor sank to his knees beside us. Father brought Hanzhu and Ruoheng to kneel behind him, their heads bowed.

The room was filled with weeping.

His Majesty drew a deep breath.

“Did she leave any last words?”

The matron nodded through her tears and brought out a decree.

“Her Majesty left her final wishes before she passed.

“The household of the Prince of Pingnan has deceived the throne, concealed the truth of its bloodline and committed a grave offense. It must be severely punished. Qin Yinshuang is not a member of the Qin family. Her Majesty is deeply hurt by this deception and does not wish to see her again. From this day, Qin Yinshuang is ordered to leave the palace at once.”

I sank to the floor in a daze.

The woman on the bed looked peaceful, as though she had only slipped into a quiet dream. The gentle face that had once turned to call my name was gone from my life.

Yet I could imagine her in her last moments, leaning against the bed, longing for me to return.

I had not made it in time.

She had thought of me, afraid the prince's family would bind me to the capital for life, keeping me trapped within these palace walls.

So she had left this decree.

She was telling me to leave, to put the prince's household, the palace and all those anxious years far behind me.

Do not let fate hold you here.

I had been ready to resign myself to staying.

In the end, she had used even her death to give me back my freedom.

8

None of the three members of the prince's household could leave unscathed.

The Emperor had loved and revered his mother. The late Emperor had not favored him; it was she who had painstakingly secured his future.

Now she was suddenly gone.

He had even thought of resenting me. But each time he entered the hall, he found me kneeling before her memorial tablet, refusing food and drink, my heart reduced to ashes.

At last, I fainted there.

When I woke, he was sitting beside me. His face was composed, but sleepless nights had left dark shadows under his eyes.

He, too, had been grieving day and night.

I was so ashamed that I could not lift my head. I had barely murmured an apology before the tears fell again.

He stood, then gently patted my shoulder.

“Even at the end, my mother wanted you to have your freedom,” he said, his voice softening. “Leave when the funeral is over.

“This is the last thing I can do for her.”

After he left, I sat motionless for a long time.

Then I finally wept aloud.

By the end of the funeral rites, winter had quietly reached the capital. I rode away at dusk.

I took very little: the cloth tiger the Empress Dowager had used to comfort me when I was seven, and the scriptures she had copied for me when I fell ill at nine.

They were enough to fill my small bundle.

The horse's hooves carried me past the bustling streets and away into the distance.