Chapter Two — The Letter

The journey back to the palace felt longer than ever. Yi Xuan sat stiffly in the carriage, his fists clenched against his knees. The silence of his father’s men only sharpened his unease.

At last, he broke it.

“What happened to my mother?” His voice was low, tight.

The soldier riding beside him shifted uncomfortably. “Young Master, forgive us… His Majesty ordered that we are not to speak of it. He said you would hear everything once you return.”

Yi Xuan’s chest tightened. “Not to speak of it? Why? What is so unspeakable that I cannot be told?”

No one answered. Their eyes avoided his, their lips pressed into thin lines. Only the cold night wind replied, whistling through the trees.

Yi Xuan leaned back, but his heart gave him no rest. A storm brewed inside him, each passing moment heavier than the last.

⸻

By the time the palace gates came into view, a suffocating weight pressed down upon him. The grand halls that once glittered with light were now eerily dark. Torches flickered weakly in the hard wind, their flames bending as though they too were afraid.

He stepped down from the carriage, his boots striking against the cold stone. The air carried no trace of warmth—only dread.

The soldiers led him through the silent corridors, past guards who kept their heads bowed. The heavy doors of the Emperor’s study opened with a groan.

Inside, his father sat alone, his expression unreadable, eyes deep and tired. When he heard Yi Xuan’s footsteps, he raised his head.

Yi Xuan did not bow. His voice came sharp and unyielding:

“Father, where is mother? What happened to her?”

For a moment, silence stretched like a blade between them. Then the Emperor’s gaze hardened.

“She is no longer your mother.”

Yi Xuan froze. “What? What do you mean by that?”

The Emperor’s tone was cold, each word like stone.

“She has shamed this palace. Shamed our name. She is unworthy to be called Empress—and unworthy to be called your mother.”

Yi Xuan’s hands trembled. “What did she do? Where is she now?” His eyes darted about the room, as if expecting her to step out at any moment.

But the Emperor’s voice cut that hope in two.

“She has already run away—with the man she loves. She left you. She left me. There is no need to look for her.”

Yi Xuan staggered back a step. His lips parted, his voice raw. “No… that’s impossible. She would never—”

The Emperor’s gaze sharpened. He raised a hand, silencing him.

“I know you will not believe me. Then see it yourself. On the table—her letter.”

With that, he rose and left the chamber, his robes sweeping behind him. The sound of the door closing was deafening.

Yi Xuan stood frozen, his chest heaving, until his eyes snapped to the table. His footsteps were unsteady as he rushed forward, snatching up the folded parchment.

His mother’s handwriting. He knew it instantly.

Hands shaking, he broke the seal and read:

To my beloved son, A xuan.

I love you more than anything in this world. I never regret giving birth to you—you are my pride, my joy. But I am tired, Yi’er… tired of a life I never wanted, tired of a love that never existed. For years I endured bitterness, but now I can no longer continue.

I have found someone I truly love. I wish to live happily with him. Please, do not look for me. Take care of yourself, and live well.

The words blurred as tears spilled down Yi Xuan’s cheeks. The letter slipped in his trembling hands as he choked on silent sobs.

He wanted to scream No, this isn’t her. He wanted to tear the letter apart and call it a lie. But the ink was real. The words were hers.

His knees weakened, and he sank onto the chair,

Mother… why didn’t you take me with you?

In this wretched palace—the place they both hated—why had she left him behind?

Do you think I can be happy here without you? Do you think I am like him? Did I make some mistake?

His tears fell freely now, staining the parchment. His chest ached as though his heart had shattered. Yet even in his despair, one thought repeated in his mind:

If this is the happiness you longed for, then I have no right to stop you. If you are free… if you are smiling at last… then I should let you go.

But the emptiness swallowing him whole whispered otherwise.

Why, Mother? Why did you leave me too?

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