Character Index

  Zhang Dingyong: Minister of Justice. Kayla's ally.

  Geleng: A Pugu warrior and herder. Arrested for arson.

  Sun Ruhui: Right Secretariat of Justice. Formerly Kayla's supporter. Currently supports the reforms but is neutral about its leading figures.

  Shelun: A prominent Pugu clan leader. Knew about Heli's intentions to kill Tuhezhen and deliberately allowed it to happen in order to benefit politically.

  Nagai: Shelun's son, passed the Civil Exam despite having a low literacy level due to his father's bribes. Was arrested for assault and attempted murder.

  Princess Halime: Chuluo's daughter, her mother comes from a prominent Persian clan that sought refuge with Chuluo. Engaged to Yunqi.

  Datan: Heli's right-hand man and mentor.

  Dulan: A Pugu warrior and herder, Geleng's relative and childhood friend.

  Heli: The sixteen year old Chieftain of the Pugu.

  Zhou Yunqi: Emperor of the Wu Dynasty.

  Ashina: Personal name Ibilga, Princess of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate.

  Zhou Kuang: Deceased prince of the Wu Dynasty. Yunqi's older brother.

  Zhou Ying: Former Emperor of the Wu, posthumously titled Emperor Xuanzong.

  Wise Consort: Yunqi's mother, posthumously titled Empress Dowager after her husband killed her.

  Tao Qian: Kayla's Head Retainer.

  Yilie: Investigator Tabuyir's nephew, he was parted from his twin sister and taken into the Zhao household as a ward and hostage.

  Qazar: Grandson of the Uyghur Chieftain Tumidu, sent to Kayla as a hostage by his cousin Imperial Princess Mingda.

  Zhao Chao: Kayla's retainer.

  Healer Zhang: A skilled midwife and healer who specializes in "unusual" pregnancies, including those that need to be delayed, moved along faster, or terminated.

  Derin: Ashina's lady-in-waiting.

  Kulun: A tarkhan of Chuluo Khagan, also serves as a spymaster of sorts.

  Chuluo: Khagan of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate.

  Sebeg: One of Chuluo's Khatuns.

  Kayla made her way to Zhang Dingyong’s office, smiling and greeting familiar faces while internally rolling her eyes all the while. The trouble in Anbei was quieting down, but Kayla still had to deal with the aftermath.

  Zhang Dingyong could’ve easily given Geleng a light sentence without incurring any trouble for himself, he just can’t resist a chance for entertainment.

  Her irritation fled for a moment as Sun Ruhui stepped out of his office to greet her. They exchanged a few brief words before Zhang Dingyong appeared with a beaming smile.

  “Duke Zhao! What an honor to have you here! Please, this way,” he said. Sun Ruhui lowered his eyes and stepped back as Zhang Dingyong’s smile widened.

  What the hell is this guy up to now? Kayla thought with mild annoyance, glancing at Zhang Dingyong sideways. Knowing him, Sun Ruhui was also fair game for his fun.

  “Don’t bully Sun Ruhui,” Kayla muttered to him quietly.

  “Your favorite official? I would never dare,” Zhang Dingyong murmured back as they entered his office. “Really, I should be jealous of him!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Zhang Dingyong shut the door. “Well then, Duke Zhao, this matter with this Geleng of the Pugu…it’s quite complicated, you see.”

  “You can reduce his sentence, surely,” Kayla plied him.

  “Well, yes, but it was a public and malicious act of arson,” Zhang Dingyong said. “It would be a different matter if it was an accident, but it’s difficult to reduce his sentence in these circumstances. As you know, murder and arson are among some of the most notorious crimes a man can commit, and in such a case, state law supersedes tribal law only to offer a harsher sentence or to offer amnesty. But for Geleng’s case, state and tribal law both agree on capital punishment given that he caused damage worth far more than ten bolts of silk. I can have him hanged according to our laws instead of beheaded by Tiele law, but I’ll need justification for any further reductions in his punishment.”

  Yes, of course. Zhang Dingyong, the paragon of legality. He didn’t even give a shit about the whole matter of the Pugu unrest except to seek assurances that it wouldn’t impact the reforms.

  “It seems to me that the man was under extenuating circumstances,” Kayla said. “And seeing that no one got hurt except for him, there’s no reason to pursue a harsh punishment.”

  “Extenuating circumstances such as?” Zhang Dingyong asked.

  “He was on the verge of financial ruin, and it seemed that Shelun had siphoned off public funds and rewards in the past when he had participated in military service,” Kayla said. “When he sought a loan and received only insults instead, he acted in a fit of rage. While it is despicable that he deliberately sought to cause property destruction, it was not without cause nor entirely undeserved.”

  “You certainly seem to sympathize with him,” Zhang Dingyong said, a catlike smile on his face.

  Do NOT psychoanalyze me over this, please, Kayla silently offered a prayer. Dude needs Netflix. He’s way too bored if he’s doing all this.

  She could fix that–not the lack of entertainment, that was beyond her power. But a larger workload would certainly ease Zhang Dingyong’s boredom. Kayla bit back the sudden vindictiveness and offered a bland smile.

  “Considering that Shelun’s son felt empowered to shoot him without fearing any consequences, it would not be a stretch to say that this probably reflects his usual behavior. A grown man does not act this way unless his father protects him from the consequences of it. As such, we can argue a history of physical intimidation or violence,” Kayla said. “Thereby, it can be construed as an act stemming from a desire for self-defense, in which case the law permits for exceptions. Especially since no one was killed or injured, save for Geleng himself.”

  Zhang Dingyong nodded slowly, still trying to draw out more information. Kayla internally rolled her eyes.

  “And I think this man is probably like me to some extent,” Kayla said, begrudgingly giving Zhang Dingyong what he wanted. “More so than the other Pugu, he can see the injustices more clearly–hence the darkness and intensity of his anger.”

  She lowered her eyes to avoid Zhang Dingyong’s piercing and overly delighted gaze.

  “I’m not particularly talented. There are plenty of people who are more clever and competent–I’ve just been lucky enough to be born into the right household. In a different life, I could be exactly the same person with the exact same abilities, and still be languishing at the bottom dregs of society in poverty, simply because there was no opportunity for me,” Kayla said. “So someone like Geleng…”

  “Moves you? Stirs your sympathy rather than your pity?” Zhang Dingyong eagerly supplied.

  A bit too eagerly. He was like a high school girl hearing the details of a first date. Kayla gave him a withering look.

  “Yes.”

  “How touching! How modest of you, my good Duke, and how magnanimous! Well, I certainly cannot overlook such a moving argument as the Minister of Justice,” Zhang Dingyong said gleefully, enjoying himself very much to Kayla’s great irritation. Of course it was just that easy. When Zhang Dingyong was eventually promoted out of this post, she hoped Sun Ruhui would be a bit less arbitrary in his sentencing. “If those are your true feelings on the matter, I will surely honor them. I think exiling him two thousand miles–no, one thousand miles from Pugu lands for five years is more than sufficient as punishment, no?”

  “Wouldn’t that be too light? It’s indefensible if someone presses you on it,” Kayla said.

  “You’ve given some wonderful inspiration for my rebuttal,” Zhang Dingyong said with an elegant bow of his head.

  Kayla resisted the urge to smack him. If he was going to be this irritating, he should at least have the decency to go bald, she thought viciously. That way she could at least check her reflection on the oily surface whenever he offered an insincere bow.

  Kayla quashed her overblown thoughts of mild violence towards the unassuming man before her.

  “Thank you, Minister Zhang,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

  She got up to leave, but Zhang Dingyong called out to her.

  “Speaking of, you’re about to have your first child, aren’t you?” Zhang Dingyong asked.

  “Yes,” Kayla replied, quashing the dread that immediately surged up at the question. “The healer believes that the due date will be within this week.”

  “Right before the Royal Consort arrives,” Zhang Dingyong said with an air of innocent wonder. “How lovely! So the Princess will be able to greet her new nephew!”

  Of course it had to be before Princess Halime arrived. Ashina would have to meet her sister then, and Princess Halime would be much more likely to sense the deception, that Ashina was not as far along in her pregnancy as reports to both the Emperor and the Khagan had suggested. After all, she'd known Ashina all her life.

  “We don’t know that it’s a boy yet,” Kayla replied.

  “You don’t want a son?”

  “That’s not the problem here,” Kayla said, determined not to feed him anything more. He had enough entertainment from her, there was no reason for him to drag her kid in too. “I just hope that my child will be healthy, the gender doesn’t matter.”

  Zhang Dingyong was smiling in a self-satisfied manner. Kayla knew better than to engage with the bait, but the smugness got to her before she could rein herself in.

  “What?”

  “The Grand Duke must be rolling in his grave,” Zhang Dingyong said softly. “The household he didn’t want to give to you is going to go to a half-Turk. Now wouldn’t that be nice?”

  For a moment her world went blank, then there was a pressure in her lungs that felt close to bursting.

  “Yes,” Kayla said with savage vindication. “It would.”

  Then all of the fight drained out of her, and Kayla heaved a sigh. She felt strangely tired, not just of Zhang Dingyong but with everything.

  “If you’re quite done with gossiping about my family, I’ll be heading out,” Kayla snapped.

  “Let me walk you out,” Zhang Dingyong said in a fawning tone, realizing he’d actually pissed her off. She kept up a smile for respectability until she reached the carriage.

  “What an asshole,” Kayla muttered to herself. A sudden burst of rage flared and dissipated. He just didn't know when to stop, she thought wearily. The greedy bastard. At least he was competent.

  In the window above, Sun Ruhui watched with a frown as the carriage departed.

  “Minister Zhang, a moment if you would,” he called out without turning around. Behind him, Zhang Dingyong stopped mid step and came over.

  “Well, Right Secretariat? Pleased to see the Duke?” Zhang Dingyong asked, soft enough not to be heard. The other workers were dispersing as well, leaving the two alone.

  “Don’t go too far,” Sun Ruhui said quietly.

  “What?”

  “A moment of fun is not worth the consequences you'll face for it in the long run,” Sun Ruhui continued. “You’d best keep that in mind.”

  Zhang Dingyong’s smile slowly disappeared.

  “I will,” he said flatly. “Good day, Right Secretariat.”

  With that, Zhang Dingyong turned on his heel and left.

  Datan glanced up as a guard approached him.

  “Sir, Geleng’s leaving for exile. Dulan’s requested to escort him.”

  “Let him do it,” Datan replied. “If the court didn’t even dispatch anyone to carry out the sentence, we needn’t waste resources on it either. No one will care whether or not he’s actually exiled a thousand miles away. Just as long as he’s not here, we’re not responsible for him.”

  The guard bowed, and hurried off to deliver the orders.

  Heli entered the study, face red from the cold.

  “Datan!”

  “How was the meeting, my lord?”

  “By Tengri it was boring,” Heli groaned. “Those old men won’t stop repeating themselves! At least they want to be heard now, instead of just overlooking me in every discussion. But enough of that. What happened? I saw the guard leave just now.”

  “Just the matter of Geleng’s exile,” Datan replied. “Dulan will escort him out. There’s no real danger and we don’t care if he escapes, since the purpose is to get him out anyways. So I’ve left it to him.”

  Heli nodded, looking a little uncertain.

  “Well, Geleng’s a decent man. I liked him when we last spoke,” Heli remarked. “I wouldn’t want to make him leave without even a friend to send him off.”

  “You’re still too naive, my lord,” Datan muttered despairingly.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Datan said, resigning himself to bearing it in silence. Geleng was strangely popular right now, but that would fade in his absence. Datan would’ve preferred a much harsher sentence to get this potential source of trouble out of the way, but they owed Duke Zhao and for some reason, this was what Duke Zhao wanted.

  Yet another problem we’ll have to deal with, Datan thought grimly.

  There would come a time when the weight of their debt grew too heavy to bear. What happened then…he glanced at Heli, taking in the boy as he moved about the room. Had Heli grown taller? Or had the kid just finally fixed his posture? For a moment, the boy's figure overlapped with a nostalgic vision of the previous Chieftain.

  “You’ve really grown up,” Datan said quietly.

  Heli turned towards him with a radiant smile, and Datan swallowed his many concerns. They could trouble him another time. For now, his hands were full.

  Dulan rode side-by-side with Geleng, an almost comical look of distress on his face.

  “Dulan, please,” Geleng said. “It’s really not that bad.”

  “No one in our family has been exiled in generations, Geleng.”

  “The sentence isn't very long, given what I did. And they're not even being very strict about it. At all,” Geleng remarked. He shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll come back with a wife in tow.”

  “Where the hell are you going to kidnap one from?” Dulan snarked. He bit down his deeper fear–that Geleng would simply never come back.

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  “I’ll woo her properly and ask for her hand,” Geleng said, sounding a little wounded.

  He smiled, lightly punching Dulan in the shoulder. “You’ll probably have kids by then.”

  “I’ll have to find a wife first,” Dulan said bitterly. “And between both our herds, I’ll have no time!”

  “It’s because you have two herds to care for that you’ll need a wife,” Geleng said. “There’s a necessity now, so you’ll find some way to do it. You’re welcome.”

  “Oh fuck off,” Dulan said, smiling despite himself.

  “I’ll write to you and let you know if I get married,” Geleng said. “Keep my horses alive, yeah? You can eat the sheep if you really want to.”

  Dulan grinned, collecting himself. It wasn’t a life or death parting. And even if it were, he had the duty to send Geleng off with a smile. That was the way of the Tiele, who lived between the great azure yurt above and the vast stretching grasslands below. They welcomed those who came and didn’t hold on to those who left.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Dulan said.

  The mood lighter now, they slowly rode through the snow side by side. Before Dulan could even finish finding all the words he wanted to say, the questions he wanted to ask of why and why really, not the excuses and was it worth it and so many other minuscule details about the temperament and care of Geleng’s horses and sheep, they had reached the stone pile marking the edge of Pugu territory.

  “Well, I suppose this is it,” Geleng said. He got off his horse, Dulan following suit.

  Dulan felt his heart sinking. They weren’t really brothers though they had grown up together. They were too different to be friends without the boons of shared blood relation. It wasn’t even the first time either Geleng or Dulan had left their homes, yet it felt wrong that Geleng was leaving.

  Geleng offered a prayer at the stone pile before turning to Dulan with a small smile.

  “Take care, Dulan.”

  “You too,” Dulan said with forced cheer. “Stay safe out there. I’ll keep your livestock in good condition, you’ll find yourself much richer when you return.”

  “Thank you,” Geleng said.

  The two embraced briefly before Geleng turned to get back onto his horse. Dulan’s smile faded.

  That was it, then.

  A million thoughts flitted through his head, regrets and sentiments mixing together. If he hadn’t drawn conclusions from Geleng’s suspicions, if he hadn’t said anything, if he hadn’t helped to fan the flames against Heli, if he hadn’t stood still after learning of Shelun’s betrayal instead of chasing down Geleng–there were so many ways things could have gone differently, each possible change weighing on his chest like a crushing stone.

  It felt like something had truly come to an end, something too big for him to fully comprehend.

  Geleng would return, Dulan was sure of it despite his fears otherwise. But it would never be the same again. The world had irrevocably changed–whether it was merely the way Dulan saw it, or that some fundamental shift had really taken place, that was beyond what he could make sense of.

  His body moved of its own volition.

  “Geleng!”

  Dulan lunged forward, grabbing Geleng’s arm. The man turned back, surprise written over his face. His expression softened, grew blurry as Dulan’s eyes burned.

  Dulan wordlessly gripped Geleng’s shoulders for a moment, trying to hold back tears and to find his words. He succeeded in neither. He reached into his clothes, pawing past layers of fabric to find the protective talisman hanging at his neck. The string was thin from Dulan having pulled on it too much over the years, but it was still his mother's handiwork, imbued with the security that only a well-loved child could feel in this world. Geleng's talisman was long lost to time and carelessness. Dulan pulled the talisman free from his head, his hold on it lingering a moment before he pressed it into Geleng’s hands.

  “Take it with you,” Dulan said. “For protection.”

  “Dulan, I can’t,” Geleng said, his voice soft and surprised. “Aunty made this for you.”

  “Mother would have wanted this,” Dulan said. “You have to take care of yourself out there.”

  Geleng’s breath hitched. He held the talisman with reverence for a long moment before putting it around his neck and pulling Dulan into a crushing hug.

  “Thank you,” Geleng whispered.

  He finally let go as Dulan’s ribs were beginning to constrict.

  “Goodbye,” Dulan said, his voice coming out far calmer than he’d expected.

  “Until next time,” Geleng replied.

  Dulan held his hand up in a wave as Geleng got onto his horse. The two shared a smile, and Geleng was off. Dulan stayed there, still waving until Geleng was a dot on the horizon.

  Letting out a soft huff, Dulan crossed his arms and lifted his eyes to the sky.

  “There will be snow tomorrow,” he said to himself.

  He got onto his horse and headed back.

  Yunqi waited, patient and still as the eunuchs dressed him in preparation to receive Princess Halime. She was arriving, his long-awaited bride, with all the promises of peace and prosperity that she symbolized. She could have been the ugliest woman to walk the earth and Yunqi would have gladly embraced her anyways. The eunuchs finished, and he thanked them with a smile.

  Wenyuan would not be present for the much-anticipated occasion–highly unusual given both his rank and his position as Halime’s brother-in-law and cousin-in-law.

  But the circumstances warranted special consideration. Ashina had gone into labor. As Halime’s sister and a fellow Princess of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate, it went without saying that she ought to have her husband present at such a perilous and joyous moment.

  Yunqi had also dispatched an Imperial Healer skilled in delivering births, but the woman had proven unnecessary–the Princess was high-strung with nerves given that it was her first time going through the ordeal, and refused to allow anyone except for those familiar with her into the birthing room. To protect the princess’ peace-of-mind, her wishes were duly obeyed.

  To Yunqi’s surprise, the Healer reported back that Wenyuan was just as high-strung. If anything, he might have been even more nervous than his wife. It was almost unbelievable that the man who had calmly shouldered crisis after crisis over the last year or so was now losing his head. But there was something for everyone, Yunqi supposed.

  Waving away the eunuchs, Yunqi headed into a side room, pausing before a stately altar.

  Following the two Buddhist ceremonies Wenyuan had arranged, one inside the capital and one outside, Yunqi hadn’t had a nightmare again. He had managed to attend both. The capital ceremony he attended in person. And the secret ceremony for his grandfather and uncles, Wenyuan had come up with the novel idea of having Yunqi join in through a communication device.

  As if understanding Yunqi’s fears and unhappiness, the Head Monk of the Grand Temple had also given the welcome suggestion of setting up an altar within his quarters. Yunqi had done so immediately. Secretly, plaques for his maternal relatives were also set up in Yanzhou to appease their souls.

  Alone in the altar room, Yunqi lit sticks of incense and placed them before the plaques. The incense smoke curled upwards. Following the wisps, Yunqi raised his eyes to the rafters of the temple, serenity slowly filling his heart at the sight of the dark wooden rafters.

  He breathed in deeply.

  Brother, Mother, Father, rest in peace, Yunqi silently prayed. Forgive me and protect me. Protect this new bride who will join our household after traveling far from her homeland in the Khaganate. Protect my nephew who is soon to come into this world.

  He didn’t know if he could protect them. He probably couldn’t.

  He didn’t know if he would hurt them. He probably would.

  But still, just for this moment, he prayed to forget all of that even if just for a moment, and to ask only for grace.

  Letting out a soft huff, Yunqi left the room and prepared to welcome his new bride.

  Tao Qian watched helplessly as his employer paced the room like a man possessed. Someone should say something to him, Tao Qian supposed. That person probably wasn’t Tao Qian.

  Then again, Wenyuan had barred all his relatives from attending the birth in line with the princess’ wishes. And everyone from court was preparing to welcome Princess Halime. Which meant that Tao Qian and a few other retainers were the ones standing with Zhao Wenyuan as he frantically paced about, flinching at screams that he couldn’t possibly hear with the abundance of privacy talismans his wife had insisted on.

  “It’s been hours!” Wenyuan hissed.

  “That’s not uncommon,” Tao Qian offered, glad to know what to say for once.

  “I have no idea what’s going on and I’m not allowed in,” Wenyuan said, his voice tight with fear and anxiety. “By the gods I wish they would at least let me know what’s happening!”

  “I could send someone to ask,” Tao Qian offered.

  “No, don’t disturb them!”

  Wenyuan resumed his pacing, all the more frantic now.

  “It’s fine,” he said, seemingly to himself. “It’s fine, it’s fine.”

  Tao Qian glanced around uncertainly, then waved for his coworkers to clear the room.

  The retainers nodded and left, shooing away the servants in the hallway who were craning their necks to try and see what was happening.

  Yilie and Qazar seemed to escape their notice for a moment from where they were hidden further down the hall, tucked neatly behind a pillar. From their angle, they could get a half-obstructed view of Zhao Wenyuan through an open window. They watched, wide-eyed, as the Duke continued to pace. Gone was the calm and collected man whose favor brought fortune and anger brought death. Zhao Wenyuan had a frantic glint in his eye as he paced, suddenly stopping to fall completely still for a long while before bursting back into motion. Tao Qian stood unobtrusively out of the way, equally unsure of how to handle the human side of his master.

  A hand clamped down on Yilie’s shoulder, and he very courageously gave a frightened yelp.

  “What are you two doing here?” Zhao Chao asked, his voice bordering on disapproval but not quite getting there–that would be overstepping. Or would it? No one knew for certain when it came to the two teenage boys with nebulous statuses.

  “Oh–”

  “Um–”

  “We–we just–”

  The two stumbled over their tongues for a bit before giving up altogether. Shoulders drooping, they let Zhao Chao herd them back to their rooms.

  Inside, the tension was starting to get to Tao Qian as well. In truth, he was also unfamiliar with childbirth. It wasn’t as though he was married. Most of his friends were also unmarried. Really, couldn’t they get a man who had kids in here so that Tao Qian could leave without feeling bad about it?

  He was grateful for the interruption when a servant girl knocked at the door. Before Tao Qian could even move, Zhao Wenyuan had flung the door open with inhuman speed.

  “My lord–”

  Kayla stared down at the teenager before her. The serving girl’s face was pale, and her tone hesitant.

  Kayla didn’t need any further signals.

  Sprinting past the serving girl, Kayla rushed to the birthing room. She paused in the doorway of the darkened room to steel herself.

  Healer Zhang bowed, Derin still patting sweat from Ashina’s face. The room smelled of blood and herbs.

  “Ibilga–” Kayla barely managed to get the word out before rushing over to hover over the princess.

  Ashina looked exhausted. One of her eyes was bloodshot–a blood vessel had ruptured in the white of her eye during labor.

  “How are you feeling?” Kayla asked. She desperately did not look for the child.

  “Horrible,” Ashina croaked.

  “The princess will be fine,” Healer Zhang offered softly. “She needs ample rest and to eat a restorative diet for at least a month. There are some other…” She paused, taking in Kayla and Ashina’s expressions, and thoughtfully left the sermon on best postpartum practices for later.

  “It must have hurt,” Kayla whispered, gently taking Ashina’s hand in her own.

  “Our son,” Ashina said by way of a reply. Her tone was unmistakably proud. Kayla slowly turned, following Ashina’s gaze over to Healer Zhang. The old woman was alight with healing magic as she cradled a tiny little bundle in her hands.

  “That–the baby–” Kayla glanced wildly between Ashina, Derin, and Healer Zhang, head swiveling like it was on a wheel.

  “Congratulations, my lord. You have a son,” Healer Zhang announced. She carefully brought the child over, placing the impossibly small form in Kayla’s outstretched arms.

  Kayla stared at the red, wrinkled face of the child.

  “A boy,” she said in wonder. “He’s so small.”

  “Thankfully, there aren’t any major health defects beyond his premature birth,” Healer Zhang said. “With ample treatment and care, you can expect him to grow up healthily.”

  Kayla gulped, staring down at the tiny thing. He was so light. So fragile.

  Her vision blurred.

  “Don’t cry, let me see the baby,” Ashina said. She reached out, and Kayla slowly and carefully handed over the child, almost trembling with how cautious she was trying to be.

  “He’s ugly,” Ashina said with a small laugh. “Why is he ugly? He’s our son.”

  A laugh bordering on hysterical bubbled up from Kayla’s chest. She choked it down, blinking away the hot tears that kept swelling into her eyes.

  “All babies look like this at first.” Derin was the one to speak this time. “He will certainly grow into a beautiful child and take after his parents.”

  Kayla reached out with a shaking hand, stroking the child’s cheek. This child that she already loved so much, how would she protect him? How could she protect him past her death? She never wanted to die if it meant she had to leave this tiny helpless thing behind.

  “Give him a name,” Ashina’s voice cut into her far-off deliberations.

  Kayla wiped at her face, turning a tender gaze onto Ashina and the baby. This, she was prepared for.

  “Zhao Rong,” Kayla said. “The character for harmony, because he is the product of the harmony between our nations, and between us. And so that he may live a harmonious life. We can call him Rong'er.”

  Ashina smiled, showing pearly teeth.

  “And a courtesy name?”

  “Jingde,” Kayla said. “The characters for respecting virtue. I am naming him after a historical figure with this courtesy name who accomplished great deeds and lived a long, well-respected life.”

  “Good,” Ashina said, greatly pleased. “I like the names.”

  “Rong’er,” Kayla said to the baby. “Rong’er, grow up healthy and happy. That’s all that matters to your father.”

  Live. Please live. She wanted him to survive. She wanted him to be safe. So much of it was outside her control, but Kayla wanted it with such desperate need that it ached in her stomach, stronger than any desire she’d had before.

  The baby opened his mouth and let out a petulant cry.

  Healer Zhang stepped over, taking the baby back into her arms, placing a number of healing talismans on the infant’s swaddle cloth.

  Ashina smiled. Reaching over Kayla, she lovingly stroked the child’s forehead.

  Kulun strode through the Khagan’s temporary palace at his usual speed. There was no need to rush. Having longer legs than most, Kulun always walked fast. He did so on purpose too, so that courtiers couldn’t easily tell when he did and didn’t have news to bring. The news of Princess Halime’s arrival in the capital had soon been joined by a second report that required him to give in person.

  Kulun paused slightly at the sound of laughter, then entered the Khagan’s quarters.

  “Great Khagan,” Kulun greeted Chuluo, bowing deeply. He gave smaller bows to the other nobles present, mostly relatives and in-laws. Amongst them was Sebeg, Chuluo’s most powerful Khatun.

  “My tarkhan,” Chuluo called, gesturing him over. “You have news for me?”

  Kulun bowed his head.

  “It is as you have perceived, my liege.”

  “Let us hear it then.” It was Sebeg who spoke, but Kulun replied anyway.

  “Congratulations, great Khagan. By Tengri’s blessing, your daughter Princess Ibiliga has given birth to a son in Luoyang.”

  Chuluo’s face was dangerously unreadable. No one dared to breathe, much less to react.

  “And how is my daughter?”

  “Both mother and child are safe,” Kulun said.

  “And how is the child’s health?”

  “The child appears to be sickly,” Kulun said regretfully. “However, with Tengri’s blessings, it seems that the boy’s life is in no danger. He has the best care available to him, and the doting concern of not just his parents, but also the Emperor of the Wu himself.”

  “A sickly boy, is it?” Chuluo murmured.

  “Though children can be fragile, it says a great deal that they expect him to survive,” Sebeg was the one who spoke now. “And those who survive great disasters are sure to have greater fortune to match.”

  “Indeed,” Chuluo said, rather pleased by that thought. “Since he is of my blood, he will surely have great fortitude.” The tension in the room broke, and a chorus of congratulations sounded out unevenly.

  “What is my grandson’s name?” Chuluo finally thought to ask.

  “Zhao Rong, the character for harmony,” Kulun said. “Following the norms of the Han, Duke Zhao also gave him the courtesy name of Jingde–to respect virtue.”

  Chuluo gave a thoughtful hum.

  “Very good. It appears that my son-in-law has great expectations for his first son.”

  “Indeed,” Sebeg Khatun replied. Chuluo joined in on the pleasant laughter before the mood in the room shifted. His face had yet to fall into the pensive look it always took when he was deep in thought, but with bated breath, they all felt it coming and quieted in advance.

  Absentmindedly, Chuluo lifted his hand slowly and gave a single wave.

  Everyone left the room, bowing their way out unevenly. Sebeg gave a single graceful bow and swept past them all, Kulun following shortly after. Unlike the others, Kulun lingered not far from the door, expecting his liege to call him back shortly.

  Inside the room, Chuluo sat motionless on his throne. He remained statuesque for a long while before finally turning his head slowly to the side.

  His gaze moved over the richly embroidered tapestries, and slowly came to the map that occupied half a wall. His pupils flicked from Luoyang up to Anbei, then slowly traced his own territory. His gaze turned westwards until reaching the Altai Mountains.

  Chuluo considered the mountain range for a long moment before sweeping west–past the Seven Rivers and Samarkand to settle on Sogdia, and then Persia.

  Alone save for the flickering candle lights, Chuluo smiled.

  Cultural Notes

  Arson in the Tang Dynasty: As mentioned in the previous chapter, arson was taken rather seriously, and punishments could range from three years imprisonment for fires that don't harm anyone, to execution by hanging for significant damage. Arson that results in damage equal to or more than the value of five bolts of silk calls for a sentence of being exiled two thousand miles away.

  生离死别/Life or death parting: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to the various types of farewells that people face.

  苍穹/Great azure yurt: A term often used to refer to the sky, which was viewed as a firmament that is compared to the top of a yurt. Specifically, this draws on the nomadic poem that says "天似穹庐笼盖四野/The sky like a yurt covering, encompassing the four directions." Similar terms existed in Han culture as well.

  往者不追，来者不拒/[They] Don't chase those who go and don't refuse those who come: An Ancient Chinese saying that originates from a quote by the pre-Qin Confucian scholar Mencius.

  尉迟敬德/Yuchi Jingde: The Tang dynasty general Kayla named her son after. His personal name was 融/Rong, and of the many generals who contributed to establishing the Tang dynasty, he was one of the few who managed to live to retirement despite having pissed off the Emperor a few times, and spent his old age chilling and listening to music. He is worshiped as a door god in folk religion due to his martial valor that is believed to guard against disaster and danger.

  Courtesy names: A common practice in Ancient China was for the literati class to give their children a courtesy name in addition to a given name. Out of politeness, most would use a person's courtesy name instead of directly calling them by their given name. Though this was supposed to be given to someone in adulthood, it became common for excited parents to have courtesy names ready before their child could even sit up on their own.

  Those who survive great disasters are sure to have fortune after/大难不死必有后福: An Ancient Chinese saying that reflected widespread beliefs about luck and disaster at the time.

  Anbei Protectorate: A Tang-dynasty semi-autonomous administrative region that encompasses parts of modern-day Inner Mongolia and Mongolia.

  Altai Mountains: A mountain range bordering modern-day China, Russia, Kazakhstan, and Mongolia. It historically served as a nominal boundary between the Eastern and Western Turkic Khaganates, and is the border between them in-story.

  Seven Rivers: This refers to Jetisu or Hetopotamia, a historical region in Central Asia that corresponds more or less to modern-day Kazakhstan. The name Jetisu is often translated as "Seven Rivers" in Chinese records. This is west of the Altai Mountain boundary.

  Samarkand: An Uzbek city in Central Asia that has a very long history and served a significant role on the Silk Road.

  Sogdia: An Ancient Persian civilization in the western part of Central Asia.