When Lin Rui entered the Grand Hall, clad in black and gold, everyone dropped to the stone floor. He passed them with a cold and intimidating demeanor of a sovereign. Taking his seat upon the throne, he felt the heavy armrests cold beneath his palms.
The Khatun Dowager was already there, sitting slightly below him, with perfect posture as always. The moment she saw him, her lips curved into a tiny, but satisfied smile.
Across the hall, the Chancellor stood at attention. He did not bother hiding his anticipation.
Lin Rui surveyed them all in silence, letting it stretch just long enough to make the ministers uneasy. Then he spoke,
"I have come to a decision."
The hall stilled completely.
"For the stability of the realm," Lin Rui continued in a calm voice, "and for the continuation of the royal lineage, I will take a Khatun."
The reaction was immediate. The Khatun Dowager's eyes gleamed, but she stopped her lips from forming a smile. The Chancellor lowered his head, relief and triumph flickering across his face before he masked it with respect.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the ministers, a mix of relief and worry on their faces.
"The wedding will take place in under two weeks," Lin Rui said. "On the night of the full moon."
It was the Chancellor who spoke first. "Your Majesty is wise."
The Dowager inclined her head, finally allowing herself a smile. "The heavens will favor such an auspicious date."
Lin Rui did not respond to either of them. He raised one hand instead. "Present the decree," he commanded.
A eunuch standing at his side immediately stepped forward and raised his voice.
"Summon Lady Naram to enter the hall and receive the decree."
The doors opened, allowing Lady Naram to enter with graceful steps. Happiness shone openly in her eyes. There was no attempt to hide it. A small, careful smile curled on her lips as she approached the center of the hall. She knelt and bowed deeply before the throne.
The eunuch unrolled the parchment and began to read.
"By the authority of the Khan of Tughril, Lady Naram is chosen as Khatun. She shall be wed to the Khan on the night of the full moon, to rule beside him, to bring stability and prosperity to the realm."
When the eunuch finished, Lady Naram rose smoothly and stepped forward to receive the decree with both hands. She bowed once more, deeper this time.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, her voice steady and unmistakably pleased.
Lin Rui merely nodded. Not a smile or acknowledgment beyond that single, restrained motion. The mask of the Khan did not crack.
"Let it be known throughout Tughril," The Dowager turned to the court, "that this joyous news shall be shared with every province and every household. May the people rejoice."
The hall erupted in approval. Ministers bowed, murmurs spread like ripples through water.
The decision fell perfectly into place, exactly as the story demanded.
Lin Rui remained still on the throne, watching it all unfold. This was how it was meant to go. The wedding would take place under the full moon. The revolt would erupt in blood and fire. He would be imprisoned, while Lian Zhi would die in front of him.
Then Shen Han would hear of her death.
And the war would begin.
Just a little more. Just let her die, and the curtain falls. Then I can go home.
Back to his apartment. Back to quiet nights and unfinished drafts and a life that no longer bled when steel struck flesh.
The hall buzzed with celebration, but Lin Rui felt nothing.
The court was dismissed shortly after, ministers filing out with renewed energy, already calculating alliances, gifts, and positions. Minister Bayan was the center of their attention.
The Chancellor lingered only long enough to exchange a brief look with the Dowager. An unspoken confirmation passed between them.
Good, Lin Rui thought. Everything was moving.
Arkan waited in the outer corridor with his arms folded. His expression was tight with unease. He had stood at the Khan's side through countless decisions, military strategies, executions, and political gambits that would have shaken lesser men. He had learned to read between the lines of his silence.
And this time, something felt wrong.
When the Khan finally emerged, Arkan fell into step beside him without speaking. They walked in silence through the long corridors until they reached a secluded passage, far from listening ears.
Arkan stopped. "Why?" he asked quietly.
Lin Rui paused, but did not turn.
"Why go through all of this," Arkan continued, careful to keep his voice low, "if you were planning to distance yourself from Princess Lian Zhi anyway? Why the wedding, why the decree, why now?"
Lin Rui remained still.
"You have sacrificed Ruhan," Arkan added. "Why do you have to sacrifice yourself too?"
That made Lin Rui turn.
For a brief moment, Arkan thought he saw something raw in his gaze, fatigue or maybe even pain, but it vanished almost immediately, buried beneath the weight of the Khan's Mask.
"There are things," Lin Rui said, "that you cannot understand."
Arkan frowned. "You've never said that before."
Lin Rui exhaled slowly. "And I don't know if I can explain it to you. Not properly, at least."
They stood there in silence for a while. Lin Rui's voice, when he spoke again, was quieter.
"But this path," he said, "is the one that causes the least harm."
Arkan shook his head slightly, searching his face. He had followed the Khan into battles that defied logic, had watched him dismantle enemies twice his size with nothing but strategy and resolve. Trust had never been the issue.
Understanding, perhaps.
At last, Arkan nodded. "If this is what you believe is best… then I will follow."
"That is all I ask."
Yet even as Arkan turned to leave, confusion lingered in his eyes. Lin Rui could sense it. Arkan's unspoken questions, his unease. But Lin Rui did not stop him.
Some things were not meant to be shared.
But then something suddenly flickered in his memory. He froze mid-step, the brush of heavy silk robes against stone stopping abruptly.
He had been focused on the wedding, the revolt, and Lian Zhi's death. But he had forgotten that another death would come first.
Arkan's.