The Ghost Palace had no doors. Only a maw of black stone that swallowed light. Inside, cold that did not come from winter. It came from stopped hearts.
Ten thousand wraiths lined the walls. Armor rusted. Swords notched. They did not breathe. They did not blink. They watched.
Zhang Wei sat on a throne of fused bones. His. His enemies’. His brother’s men. Frost rimmed his lips. A hole the size of a fist leaked shadow where his heart had been. The killing wound. Ten years old. Still weeping dark.
_“Princess Zhanyi,”_ he said. His voice was the sound stone makes before it breaks. _“You trespass in the house of the dead.”_
_“I propose a Ghost Wedding,”_ Zhanyi said. She did not kneel. Princesses don’t kneel to other monarchs. _“Three months. Contract. My throne for your vengeance. My sisters want me dead. Your brother sits on your throne. Same war.”_
Wraiths shifted. Steel scraped stone. The sound of an army waking.
_“Sisters,”_ Zhang Wei repeated. The word was foreign in his mouth. Dead men have no family. _“Explain.”_
_“Twins. Nan and Mei. Born before me. They sent me to Black River Pass with 300 men. Ordered the army to stand down. Expected my head on a pike.”_ Zhanyi stepped closer. The cold bit through her leathers. _“You know the math. You died the same way. Brother’s blade. Brother’s smile.”_
Zhang Wei stood. He moved like a landslide — slow, then total. _“Marriage is a cage for living women. I am not living. You will not be caged.”_
_“I’m already caged,”_ Zhanyi said. _“Three months. Then they take my crown. Then they take my head. I need a consort the law cannot touch. I need a king my sisters cannot kill.”_
_“And I need a blade,”_ Zhang Wei said. _“My brother rules the Zhang capital. Ten years I have built an army of the dead. I lack passage to the world of the living. A Ghost Wedding binds us. You walk in sunlight. I walk through you.”_
_“Terms,”_ Zhanyi said.
_“Drink the River of the Dead. Bind your soul to mine. When you command, my wraiths obey. When I command, you do not flinch. Three months. Then we part. Or we burn the world together. Your choice.”_
He held out a cup carved from a skull. Black water. It smelled like graves and winter.
Zhanyi took it. Did not hesitate. Drank.
Ice flooded her veins. She saw his death. A courtyard. His brother’s face, familiar as her sisters’. A sword. _“The Zhang Dynasty needs a living king,”_ the brother said. _“Not a corpse who wins too much.”_ The blade went in. Zhang Wei did not scream. He looked disappointed.
Zhang Wei took the cup. Drank. His dead eyes found hers. He saw Black River. Nan’s hand on Zhanyi’s shoulder. _“Be careful, sister. We love you.”_ Then Nan to the war council: _“Do not send reinforcements. Let the enemy thin our numbers. Then we negotiate.”_
_“Blood,”_ Zhang Wei said. _“Always blood. Brothers. Sisters. The knife comes from the house.”_
The Kingless Crown appeared above the altar. Bone and shadow. It rotated slowly, judging.
_“Do you take this corpse as your consort,”_ the Ghost Palace seemed to whisper, _“until death do you part?”_
_“Death already parted him,”_ Zhanyi said. _“I’ll take what’s left.”_
_“Do you take this princess as your queen,”_ the Palace asked Zhang Wei, _“until vengeance do you part?”_
_“Vengeance is not parted,”_ Zhang Wei said. _“It is shared.”_
The Crown did not descend. It waited.
The tomb doors sealed. Outside, Nan and Mei waited for a daughter of the Li line to emerge in chains. Or not at all.
*End Ep 2.*
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