The Imperial Garden was nearly empty.
Only the occasional rustle of bamboo stirred the dusk, and the koi pond glimmered in reflection of the lanterns overhead. Beneath a plum tree in quiet bloom, two men sat opposite each other—one shaped by the weight of decades, the other still learning how to bear it.
The Emperor poured his own tea. He didn't speak immediately.
Zhaokai, the Crown Prince, waited.
Finally, Xianzhao said, "You spoke to the foreign girl today."
Zhaokai's brow lifted slightly. "Word travels quickly."
"Everything travels quickly when it's unspoken." The Emperor sipped. "What did you make of her?"
Zhaokai set down his cup. "Unfiltered. Arrogant. Amusing."
"And?"
"Unbroken."
The Emperor gave a faint sound. Approval? Warning? Neither was clear.
"She isn't ours," Xianzhao said. "She doesn't understand the rules. That makes her both valuable and dangerous."
Zhaokai's gaze drifted to the pond. "She made a joke. I didn't laugh."
"But you wanted to."
That earned a small pause.
"Let the ministers believe she's ornamental," the Emperor continued. "But I want her watched. Closely. If she starts whispering in the wrong ears, cut the thread."
Zhaokai nodded once, though his jaw tightened.
"And the merchant girl?"
"Sharp," the prince replied. "Calculating. She speaks as if she knows how far her words echo."
"She'll be useful."
"To you?"
"To the empire."
The Emperor leaned back, gaze fixed on a star just piercing the night sky. "And the girl in the blue silk?"
"Yu Anhai," Zhaokai said quietly.
"She sees what others miss. She did not fawn. Nor flatter."
"She would be acceptable," he added. "As Crown Princess."
"But not desirable?"
Zhaokai said nothing.
The Emperor smiled without mirth. "Desire fades. Use endures."
He turned, and for a moment the full weight of his crownless power pressed into the air between them.
"You will take a bride this year, Zhaokai. One chosen not by poets, but by tacticians. The throne requires heirs. And allies."
Zhaokai looked away. "Understood."
The Emperor refilled both cups.
For a while, there was only silence. Bamboo rustled again.
Then, softly:
"They are watching you too, my son. Just as we watch them."