A hush fell over the entire Hall as the Imperial Family made their entrance, as majestic as the mythical creature that symbolized them, decked in Imperial yellow-gold and black ceremonial robes.

She'd never seen the Emperor in ceremonial attire. A flowing black robe was wrapped over the Imperial gown, intricate golden threads forming a fearsome dragon that seemed to dance across his sleeves and back. The robe was secured in place with large three-section golden shoulder pads that swerved upwards at the end. His hair was secured upwards in the mian, a ceremonial headdress with beaded pendants hanging off the front and back. It was a headdress that only the Emperor could wear.

The Empress wore a similar yellow-gold, with a white inner robe, rising phoenixes embroidered into the fabric with some sort of orange-ish golden thread, the robes adjusted loosely over her protruding belly and shorter than usual, most probably to ensure she did not trip over her robes now that she was heavy with child. She had a lady-in-waiting of hers half a step behind her, holding her hand tightly, with a hand disappearing against the Empress's back as she helped her up the steps. Her hair was tied up in the fengguan, an intricate phoenix-carved crown reserved for the Empress.

The Empress Dowager wore a bit of a muted yellow, her embroidery one of floral motifs, exuding an air of serenity and wisdom. The Empress Dowager could no longer wear phoenix motifs. No, that was meant only for the Empress. Samaya noticed her glancing at the Empress from the corner of her eyes constantly. No doubt she was ensuring the mother of the unborn heir was well taken care of.

Samaya neatly slid into a bow, pressing one palm over the other and lowering her head deeply. The unsavory etiquette lessons and the past few months in the harem had her perfect the etiquette of bowing for different occasions. She heard the shuffling of robes as the entire Hall did the same, their heads bowed reverently as their ruler walked across the Hall.

She kept her head bowed as the footsteps approached, selfishly wishing they would speed up because staying in such a bowed position was an annoyance at best.

The footsteps stopped soon enough… right beside her. She blinked but did not look up. No matter how openly she behaved with the man in private, she had to keep up appearances in such a large public setting.

"Raise your head, Lady Qing, Prince Xu."

Samaya raised her head and dropped her salute, feeling Manu do the same beside her. Her gaze met the Emperor's, and she tilted her head ever so slightly in askance.

"Lady Qing, you look radiant."

Her eyebrow twitched for a moment, and she quickly smoothed it over, but not before the Emperor noticed her annoyance at the way he deliberately drew attention to her.

She wore a robe of burnt orange, which faded into an ombre of dark red, the golden embroidery matching her intricate inner robe. Her hair was secured by the very hairpin he had gifted her, beautiful and fierce.

"Your Majesty is generous," She said in a bland tone, which no one would think much of. But the Emperor would have clearly heard 'what the fuck are you doing?'

His eyes crinkled in that irritating way that conveyed endless enjoyment.

"Well, We are here for Prince Xu," he said, making her blink in surprise. The man had already turned to Manu. "Ah-Xu, how would you like to sit with your Imperial Mother today?"

She resisted the urge to frown. Seating Manu with the very pregnant Empress sent a very loud message to the coming entourage. That the Emperor had one heir, though unannounced, and another on the way, and there was little, if at all, conflict to be had between the existing heir and the mother of the unborn one. If the Empress had a son, then he would most definitely be the Crown Prince. Which would make the eldest son second in line for the throne. Under usual circumstances, this would create significant tension between the two heirs and the families behind them, with the potential to destabilize the rule of an Emperor who had already been a victim of such a destabilizing succession war and had only recently gotten things under control.

But these were not usual circumstances, and it seemed that the Imperial Family clearly wanted to send a political message.

The rule of Emperor Huang Yasheng was stable.

The problem was that she was not informed of this. Whether the man deliberately hid it or whether it was something that was decided last minute, she did not know. She did not have any qualms about letting Manu sit with the Empress. From what she'd heard, the Empress had taken care of him during her absence. She was just annoyed that she was not involved in the decision-making.

She felt Manu's gaze on her and turned her head slightly to see her precious son looking up at her, unsurely.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Go."

She couldn't very well refuse and make a scene here.

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Like a good little prince, he bowed to her before standing and giving a bow each to the Emperor, the Empress, and the Empress Dowager, in that order.

"I shall be in your care," he said, making his boyish, high-pitched voice as serious as he could.

He was trying to act mature, befitting of his station. Samaya resisted the urge to squeal, take him in her arms, and squeeze. Her baby boy was growing up so fast!

Her previous unease forgotten for the moment, she bowed again as the Emperor nodded at her, taking Manu's hand in his, and kept it bowed as they walked up to their thrones. She heard uneasy shuffling beside her and felt bad for Fu Caiyi - and everyone else, really - who'd had to keep their heads bowed this entire time.

Only when the Imperial Family sat and the Emperor ordered them to "rise" did they straighten. She could hear some soft sighs of relief around her.

"This is a significant day!" The Emperor started, his voice booming across the Hall. Was he using qi to amplify his voice? Possible, given his acute control over his qi. "We are to create an alliance with our greatest rival, and one of the greatest threats to the peace and stability of our Empire. Let us pray that this alliance prevails and, peace and harmony persist in Our Empire."

He paused for a moment before speaking again. "We have been told that the retinue from the Kingdom of Rayie should arrive within two to three incense sticks of time. Until then, let us enjoy the entertainment, shall we? Let the banquet begin!"

Around 10-15 minutes, huh?

She relaxed as soft music started up and a group of young women sprang into the middle of the Hall, presenting a delicate, beautiful dance, perfectly synchronized. Their faces were covered by veils, and their eyes were deliciously expressive, looking like forest nymphs lost in love.

The Emperor wanted something like this from her? He could dream on.

Her mind drifted as she allowed herself to enjoy the entertainment.

Until the drum rolled again.

Everyone straightened, the music ceased, and the current entertainer, a young man playing a guqin, looked up at the Emperor once. He must have gotten some sort of signal, because he quickly stood and bowed before stepping backwards, to sit with the entertainers, out of the way of the guests when they were not performing.

"The retinue from the Kingdom of Rayie arrives!"

Soon enough, they came into view.

The first person she saw was the young woman in the middle. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the woman, who was the first person she saw that had a skin tone similar to hers. She was perhaps even a bit darker. She was … beautiful. Her face was round, youthful. She could not be older than 19 or 20. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, with only a few strands of wavy bangs falling perfectly to frame her face. Her braid was pulled forward over her shoulder, and she could see the beautiful golden ornament. It was an assortment of circular beads woven into every other section of the braid from base to end, all of them connected by a gold chain.

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Draped over her form was a flowing robe of deep indigo silk, its surface layered with intricate golden embroidery of curling lotuses and interlocking geometric patterns. Beneath the robe gleamed a fitted bodice of crimson brocade, lined with delicate pearls that shimmered faintly under the candlelight. A long skirt of sheer layered gauze, dyed in shades of wine and copper, fanned gracefully around her over a deep purple fabric, the translucent material hinting at every subtle shift of her body. A wide belt of silver cinched her waist, studded with emeralds and rubies. Chains of fine gold draped from the belt, dangling small bells that chimed softly when she moved. Between the corset and the belt, the slightest hint of skin was visible. Not enough to be scandalous, but certainly enough to draw the Emperor's attention.

Her jewelry would have had any woman salivating. A necklace of heavy gold discs, bejeweled with rubies, rested upon her collarbone, layered over a thinner chain set with droplets of turquoise and lapis lazuli, coming down to rest just above where her navel should be. Her wrists bore thick golden bangles, similarly bejeweled. A delicate anklet of silver peeked out from beneath her hem, jingling with every step she took.

A veil of fine silk, the color of desert sand, was pulled loosely across her shoulders, fastened at the crown of her head with a crescent-shaped ornament studded with garnets. From it, thin chains of gold ran across her hairline, joining at her temples where tiny sapphires gleamed against her forehead.

She was certainly dressed to impress, meant to command attention and awe, perhaps displaying the wealth and power of the Kingdom of Rayie boasted, since Samaya was quite sure that this dress was put together with the finest materials and artisans from several kingdoms.

If Samaya had to compare with her world, then it seemed the Kingdom of Rayie was the equivalent of the ancient Middle East. Or was it ancient India? A mixture of the two? Could be. Since ancient India could be anything from Afghanistan to Bangladesh.

Two steps ahead of her, on either side of her, were two men.

One was Han Qin, wearing simple yet luxurious blue silk robes beneath leather armor. Sword in hand, he walked forward with sure steps, his presence seeming to fill the entire room. He must have been sent to receive and escort the newest concubine into the Hall. On the other side was a man Samaya did not recognize. Tanned skin, donning a simple black tunic over white trousers that enclosed tightly around his ankles, a golden sash over his right shoulder, tied with a belt around the waist. His sword - curved, a form not seen in the Empire of Xin - was secured into the belt. A scar ran down his right cheek all the way from his eyebrow, disappearing into his stubble.

Behind her were soldiers and servants that might as well be faceless, with their bland, uniform getup and heads bowed, blending into the background as good servants should.

A few steps from the stairs, Han Qin stopped and bowed. The entourage followed suit, right palm curved in front of their faces, thumb tucked in. That did little to confirm her ideas. It could be equivalent to anywhere from the Ottoman Empire to India under Muslim rule. She sighed. Though she shouldn't really compare this with her world. This world had a history entirely its own. Still, she couldn't help it.

Oh well.

"Princess Aleya Kahn of the Kingdom of Rayie is here, Your Majesty."

At Han Qin's introduction, the woman stepped forward, her brown eyes glittering like unrefined gold under the candlelight as they met the Emperor's, and bowed again.

"Princess Aleya greets His Majesty the Emperor." Her voice was soft, her words thick with the sort of accent that could make a man weak in his knees.

"Rise!" The Emperor's voice was blank. When she raised her head, Samaya heard him speak again. "Rumors of your beauty have spread far and wide. It seems the rumors are true, for once."

The woman's lips curled up into a soft smile as her eyes narrowed into a half-lidded state. Seducing the Emperor already, huh?

"Your Majesty flatters this humble one."

"Come, Princess. Sit beside Us and let us share the ceremonial wine."

"This one is honored."

With that, she closed the distance between herself and the stairs, walking up so gracefully she might as well be gliding. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Han Qin tense minutely when the woman stepped up the stairs, before relaxing. It did not seem anyone noticed, their attention on the newest concubine. Perhaps the Emperor did, but it wasn't like she could turn her head and stare to confirm.

"With this, We bestow the rank of Virtuous Consort on Princess Aleya Kahn. She shall henceforth be addressed as the Virtuous Consort Kahn."

Oh, the wine sharing ceremony was over already?

"Long Live the Emperor!"

"Long Live the Empress!"

"Long Live the Virtuous Consort Kahn!"

There were a few more chants, Samaya muttering along perfunctorily, before the Emperor raised his hand, halting them.

The scarred man who came with the Princess took the opportunity to step forward, bowing.

"Your Majesty, I am Sohail Ahmad, a General of the Rayian army, and here as the Captain of the Princess's Guard. I apologise for my insolence, but I was instructed by my King to present the gift he sent you."

"Ah, yes," the Emperor said, his voice calm in a way that made shivers run down Samaya's spine. "Where is he?"

He? Not it?

The scarred man turned his head back and jerked his head slightly, clearly gesturing at the guards at the back. Two of them bowed and went back down the stairs. A moment later, the sound of heavy rattling of metal against metal reached her ear. Chains. A prisoner?

Sure enough, a moment later, the guards appeared, each holding a string of shackles that went back to wrap around the thin frame of what seemed to be a young boy. He wore thin, coarse cotton clothes. Though clean, they were clearly just there to cover the boy's body rather than provide any sort of comfort, and did nothing to hide the severely malnourished bony limbs underneath. His head was bent downwards, long hair spilling over his shoulders and hiding his face. The downcast slouch of his shoulders told her that either he was terrified or he was numb to it all. He stumbled after the men as he was pulled along harshly. Samaya could see the broken nails and the cracked skin underneath as they came closer.

Once they reached the middle of the Hall, they stopped. The guards holding the shackles tugged brutally, the boy falling onto his knees with a resounding crack as a result.

"We present Huang Jincheng!"

Samaya blinked. Huang Jincheng? The Emperor's brother? Samaya might not care much for the politics of the Imperial Court, but even she knew the recent history. The infamous puppet king, who was placed on the throne by their uncle, who wished to rule from behind the scenes.

They both fled when the Emperor emerged triumphant from the battle for the throne.

So, this was the gift. It seemed Rayie truly wanted to secure this alliance as tightly as possible. It would have been entirely possible for that Kingdom to rally behind Huang Jincheng and put him on the throne as well.

"His core." The Emperor's voice - calm and sharp - pulled her out of her thoughts. "Why does he not have his core? He may not have formed a golden core but We know he had broken through qi condensation."

The scarred man bowed. "Your Majesty, he frequently attempted to escape. One such escape resulted in the death of three of our elite guards. In the ensuing battle, we were forced to break his core."

"You have a core breaker?" The Emperor

Core breakers. Sadistic fuckers who could reach into the dantian of a cultivator and break their core. Their services went for hundreds of thousands of gold in the Underworld.

The man kept his head bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

He offered no more explanation.

"We see." The Emperor's tone made his skepticism clear.

A pause. "Look at me."

That was clearly directed at the prisoner, who did not lift his head.

"Ah-Cheng." The Emperor's voice was almost soft. Almost. "Look at me."

For a moment, it seemed that the prisoner would once again not heed the order. And then, he raised his head slowly, as if the motion itself was painful.

The first thing she noticed was the eyes. Light brown eyes. For some reason, she had expected golden eyes on him, too. But that was stupid. The Emperor had gotten his golden eyes from his mother, and these two brothers had different mothers.

Those eyes were lifeless, peering from behind the mess of hair flowing before his face. So, it was the latter. He had become numb. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the young boy who seemed to be merely on the cusp of adulthood. At this time, he should be out and about, flirting with ladies and getting in trouble. Instead, he'd lived his entire life controlled by others and tortured to the point he'd lost the will to live.

But there wasn't anything she could really do about it at the moment, she decided as the boy lowered his gaze again, displaying little emotion.

The Emperor seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

"Grand Commandant Han," the man called, his voice carefully blank. "Take Our brother to the dungeons."

Samaya watched as Han Qin gathered the shackles from the guards in one hand and pulled the boy along. The entire Hall was silent except for the clanking of chains and the footsteps of the two leaving the Hall.

It was only when they were out of their earshot that the Emperor finally spoke.

"Although it was necessary, We regret that Our beloved concubines and officers had to see an unsightly thing such as this." The man's voice boomed once again. "Shall we continue the night's festivities? Distinguished guests, please take your seats."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

The scarred man was led to his seat, along with what she assumed were some of the high-ranking guards. The servants moved to the sides, melting into the crowd of servants already present.

Once the middle was clear, the scarred man spoke again.

"Your Majesty, if you please. We brought our own humble entertainment. An exotic minstrel. He weaves the most delightful music I have ever heard. If you please, we would like to have him perform for Your Majesty, in celebration of this union."

The Emperor must have gestured positively, because the scarred man smiled and snapped his fingers.

From behind the Raiyan servants, a figure emerged, dressed in flowing robes dyed in beautiful shades of blue and white, a cape of translucent silver clasped on their shoulder. As the figure stepped into the light, its face became visible.

Samaya froze. Her hand went slack around the goblet in her hand as her hazel eyes locked onto those blue ones.

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