It had been five days since Shen Yue's return.
She spoke little, but moved through the palace with new gravity. The bruises on her wrists had faded to shadow, but her silence deepened. She no longer bowed to minor nobles. She no longer hesitated before doors. And when she wrote, she used the curved, archaic strokes of her father's private ledger—script reserved for sacred edicts from the Ministry of Rites.
It was not submission.
It was a warning.
When Wu Taian returned to court, it was not in disgrace. He bowed deeply first to the Emperor — a gesture of formality — and then to the Lord Protector, slower, heavier, as if forced by gravity. The court watched closely. No one missed the calculation in his eyes. He bowed deeply first to the Emperor — a gesture of formality — and then to the Lord Protector, slower, heavier, as if forced by gravity. The court watched closely. No one missed the calculation in his eyes.
He entered with pageantry. His robes shimmered black and gold, bearing a serpent devouring its own tail—a symbol forbidden outside the ancestral shrines. He walked beside the Deputy Harbor Minister and two retired lords from the Civil Provisions Bureau. Meant to show strength. To remind the court that he still had friends.
I remained seated.
Taian bowed low again to the Emperor and offered a formal, respectful bow to the Lord Protector. The latter nodded curtly but said nothing. Then Wu Taian turned.
"I bring formal charges against the Fourth Prince," he declared. "For grievous misuse of military authority, unsanctioned rituals, and corruption of sacred rites through unlawful consortship."
He turned his gaze to me.
"And against Lady Shen Yue, daughter of Shen Yuan, for betraying her father's trust and violating court decorum—colluding in secret with the Fourth Prince against the interests of the realm."
Gasps rippled. He had named not just Shen Yue—but implicated her father.
The hall turned toward Shen Yuan, Minister of Rites, seated in blue beside Wu Kang's faction.
He did not react.
Only narrowed his eyes.
Shen Yue stepped forward, expression calm. She bowed, not to Wu Taian, but to the Lord Protector and her father.
"I speak not in defense, but in truth," she said. "I present three scrolls of record—one from the Port Overseer of Suiyuan, one from the Temple Treasury of Cao Wen, and one from the Civil Grain Bureau—bearing seals and witness marks confirming the misappropriation of state goods by Prince Wu Taian."
Taian stepped forward. "Forgery. Lies spread by cowards and traitors. This is a political ploy."
Shen Yue's tone sharpened. "The documents are notarized in my father's hand."
That struck.
Even the most hardened lords looked toward Shen Yuan now.
The Minister of Rites finally rose, voice even:
"I do not know what my daughter has seen. But I taught her well. If she brings forward such evidence, then I will not dismiss it lightly."
A deadly silence.
Shen Yue lifted a second scroll.
"This contains the confessions of three stewards punished under Prince Taian's orders—beaten without trial, executed without writ. Their bodies were recovered beneath the reservoir vaults. They carried black-lotus marks—used only in the forbidden punishment cells."
Wu Taian's voice rose. "Treason. You challenge not only me, but the very structure of royal command!"
Several ministers nodded, unsure. Even among my allies, some hesitated.
Minister Cao of the Council of Censors cleared his throat. "Lady Shen, you are a court lady. Do you claim authority above that of princes and generals?"
She did not flinch. "No. I speak only what is true. You may ignore it. But it will remain true."
She passed the scroll to the Lord Protector himself.
The old general's eyes read the lines slowly, fingers tightening.
"I trusted you, Taian," he said. "You were meant to uphold balance. Not to sell our granaries to pirates. Not to raise the tax brands beyond imperial limits."
Wu Taian raised his chin. "A strong hand is needed to rule, father. You of all people should understand—mercy makes weak rulers. I did what you would not."
"I did not flay peasants for bread," the Lord Protector growled.
I stepped forward.
"This is not merely about corruption. This is cruelty disguised as strength. Power wielded without purpose. A prince who forgets the people forgets the throne."
Taian laughed bitterly. "And you think yourself righteous?"
"No," I said. "I think myself necessary."
Liao Yun stepped into the center, flanked by four guards from the Lord Protector's household. They brought chests. They opened them one by one—ledgers, scrolls, sealed letters, torn copies of temple offerings sold under pseudonyms.
Each page another nail.
Taian looked to his allies. The Harbor Minister lowered his eyes. The Deputy stepped back.
He turned toward Shen Yuan.
"You would side with your daughter against me?"
Shen Yuan spoke for the first time.
"I side with heaven. And it has turned its face from you."
The Lord Protector rose.
"Wu Taian. You are stripped of title and command. You are no longer prince. You are to be exiled to the southern prefectures. You will not enter this court again. You will not wear the sigil of our house."
Taian's mask broke.
"You condemn me over a woman's lies and forged paper?"
"I condemn you," said the Lord Protector, "because I trusted you—and you turned my palace into a marketplace for blood."
Guards moved to escort him.
But before he crossed the bronze gate, Taian turned to me.
"This will not end here," he said. "The South remembers princes. And it does not forget blood."
Then he was gone.
The court breathed again.
Allies began to whisper, realign. Ministers huddled. Shen Yuan simply bowed and left without speaking to Shen Yue. His silence weighed heavier than any outburst.
Shen Yue returned to my side.
"You've made enemies of them all," I said softly.
"They were never not enemies," she replied.
That night, I sat before the mirror.
No shadow followed me.
But in the stillness, something behind the reflection moved.
I did not react.
It was waiting.
So was I.
Then—a trumpet.
Hoofbeats across the tiles.
A eunuch's voice cracked through the darkness:
"Prince Wu Kang… has returned! Victory on the northern front!"
The court doors opened wide.
And war returned home.