It surprised her that such hope could follow bloodshed. That such peace might rise from the ruin of a palace coup.
A pair of palace officials in navy robes approached the gangplank as it was lowered. No jade tassels nor plated with gold embellished the palanquin awaiting her. No drummers marched ahead. No scent of incense clouded the air. It was elegant in its restraint.
“High Princess JingYi,” one said, bowing. “Welcome home.”
She stepped forward. Her foot touched the pier where she had once stood, heartsick and furious at the empire’s emptiness. But now, beneath her slippers, the wood felt sturdy.
A city once sick now finally received the purge it needed.
Unlike the harbor, the Imperial Palace of a Thousand Suns had changed little.
JingYi hooked her finger around the palanquin’s curtain and drew it back a fraction. Pale jade walls. Carved salamanders. Gold-glazed roof tiles curving overhead—all of it unchanged. The familiarity pressed against her chest, heavy and strange.
She let the curtain fall. Her hands curled into fists in her lap.
Even after taking over, ShunLi hadn’t razed their father’s legacy with flamboyance and had let the halls breathe. No fresh lacquer, no carved excess, just the dignity of stone allowed to stand as it was. He hadn’t even changed all the salamanders to pangolins to mark his reign.
She’d expected to be sent to the Garden Wing, the half-forgotten residence where distant cousins and disgraced concubines were often placed out of sight. Instead, the palanquin came to a smooth halt before Magnolia Palace—a residence reserved only for the highest-ranking princesses of the realm.
That alone might have stolen her breath.
But then she sawthem:Emperor ShunLi and High Princess LinXin.
Not waiting inside behind beaded curtains, not reclining beneath cypress shade while handmaidens pampered them. They stood side by side in the courtyard, beneath the canopy of early light. They weren’t wearing white for mourning, though both their robes were of light colours without excess ornaments.
LinXin’s expression, usually so fiercely guarded, was open. The moment JingYi stood before them, her half-sister stepped forward and reached out. She flinched back before she could stop herself. LinXin’s hand hovered, then lowered with grace.
ShunLi stood as regal as ever, but the softness in his gaze was not something she’d seen before.
JingYi steadied herself and dipped into a low curtsy. With her gaze still on the ground, she greeted the new emperor for the first time, “May the morning sun rise with your reign, Your Radiance. I have returned by your leave and grace.”
“Rise, Sho Meisha.”
The words brushed against her like unfamiliar silk—careful, too measured to trust.
JingYi began to rise slowly, her fingers still pressed against the folds of her dress, anchoring herself to the movement. Her knee clicked. A small pain shot up her spine.
Before she could straighten fully, a palace handmaiden appeared at her side—pale pink robes, magnolia-blossom soft—and took her elbow, steadying her.
JingYi nearly pulled away. The touch was gentle, patient, utterly foreign. She had always learned to rise alone, to hide the click of her knee, to smooth her own dress while pretending the pain didn’t exist.
This stranger’s hand held her like she was worth the extra moment.
This, too, was new.
JingYi’s gaze met her brother’s. She searched his face for something—remorse, affection, guilt—but he hid any emotion well beneath the polished ease of an emperor.
“You look well,” ShunLi said. “We hope your crossing wasn’t too taxing.”
She inclined her head and replied cautiously, “King Ferdinand was most generous. He sent us on his newest and smoothest ship.”
A pause stretched. Her skin prickled with the weight of so many eyes. What could they speak about here, other than formalities, with dozens of retinues watching?
“It is good that you were brought back with dignity,” he said at last.
Her breath snagged.Dignity. A word that had never been offered to her before.
“You’ve granted me a palace,” she said, her tone neutral, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “And sent guards to escort me safely through the city. I thank you for your generosity.”
