Chapter 1
3079words
I stood before the enormous bronze mirror in the bedchamber. The woman in the mirror had slender phoenix eyes and faintly drawn moth-like eyebrows, still faintly resembling my mother's charm in her younger days. But I knew that beneath this charm lay unprecedented isolation and crisis. My elder brother, Emperor George who had been deposed and then restored to the throne by my mother, was less the Son of Heaven of the Great Tang than he was a puppet in the hands of my sister-in-law, Victoria. Empress Victoria and her daughter Catherine, who desperately wished to become the "Imperial Crown Princess," had ambitions like wild vines in spring, shamelessly climbing toward the Dragon Throne, nearly suffocating the entire palace in their grasp. Their eyes, I could feel, were watching me with malice and greed, coveting everything I possessed—the power and wealth my mother had left me, as well as the most luxurious mansion in the city of Chang'an.
On the day of my mother's burial, it snowed in Chang'an, covering everything in white, concealing all filth and vanity. I knelt before the coffin, tears freezing on my cheeks, yet my heart felt colder than the snowstorm. I knew that crying was the most useless thing in this world. Mother never cried; she only made others cry. She once told me, "Grace, remember, power is something that if you don't firmly grasp in your hands, it will turn around and tear you apart." In the past, I relied on her like a towering tree, feeling that no matter how fierce the storms in Chang'an city, they could not drench me. But now, the great tree has fallen, and I must stand as a mountain myself.
I can't wait any longer. Passively waiting will only turn me into meat on Victoria's chopping block. I must take the initiative and transform my mansion into Chang'an's new center—a vortex more captivating than the imperial palace itself. This is exactly what my mother did in her day, using Shangyang Palace as her stage to gather talents from across the land, ultimately climbing step by step to the pinnacle of power. What she accomplished, I, as her most beloved daughter, have no reason to fail at achieving.
A plan rapidly takes shape in my mind. I will host a banquet—a magnificent evening feast grand enough to turn heads throughout all of Chang'an. Invitations will fly out from the Princess Mansion like snowflakes, delivered to the residences of all court officials, and into the hands of those brilliant young talents who have distinguished themselves in the imperial examinations. I want everyone to see that though Empress Eleanor is dead, Princess Grace remains the unshakeable Princess Grace. At this meticulously arranged feast, I will reweave my web of power, seeking my pawns, my swords, and my allies.
On the night of the banquet, the Princess Mansion was lit as bright as day. From the tightly closed ward gates to the depths of the mansion, ornate glass lanterns with treasure-like floral patterns hung every five steps, their light flowing and reflecting off the white marble steps, making them appear as smooth and lustrous as jade. The court musicians played "The Rainbow Feather Dress Melody," a celestial tune that made listeners forget worldly concerns. I wore a floor-length golden gown embroidered with peacock feather patterns, its hem adorned with tiny pearls from the Southern Sea that glimmered brilliantly under the lamplight. In my towering hairdo, I wore Mother's favorite gold hairpin—one with nine phoenixes holding pearls—inserted at an angle. It swayed gently with my steps, radiating dazzling colors. As I slowly entered the banquet hall, all the noise and laughter froze in an instant. Hundreds of gazes turned toward me simultaneously, filled with admiration, awe, and curiosity, among other emotions.
I enjoy this feeling, becoming the focus of everyone's attention. I lift the golden goblet presented by the maid, with a perfectly measured smile on my lips, my voice clear and resounding, reaching every corner of the hall: "Tonight's feast, with distinguished guests filling the seats, is truly my fortune. With the late emperor recently deceased and state affairs complex, all of you are pillar ministers of our Great Tang and cornerstones of the nation. As a mere woman, I have no greater way to express my gratitude than to offer this humble wine, thanking all of you, and wishing that our Great Tang empire may enjoy peace and prosperity for ten thousand years!"
As soon as I spoke, compliments rose from all around the hall. I moved among the guests, exchanging pleasantries with one and toasting another, each smile and nod carefully calculated. My gaze, like a keen falcon, repeatedly swept through the crowd, evaluating each person's worth. Those shrewd veteran ministers, though deeply established, were mostly fence-sitters and difficult to control; while those fresh young talents, despite their lower status, were full of vigor and ambition, more easily bought with prospects and favors.
Soon, my gaze locked onto a figure. Lord Marcus, the Deputy Minister of Personnel. He was surrounded by a group of young scholars, speaking eloquently. He was just over thirty years old, blessed with handsome features, sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, extraordinarily handsome, and more remarkably, possessed an effortless talent and dignified bearing. I remembered him, the top imperial scholar from three years ago, with brilliant literary talent, who in just a few short years had risen from a minor clerk to the Deputy Minister of Personnel, demonstrating his capabilities and skill. The Personnel Ministry, which controls the appointment, dismissal, and promotion of officials throughout the realm, is an extremely important position. This man, with both talent and reputation, and more importantly, he was young enough and ambitious enough. He was exactly the sharpest knife I needed.
"Lord Marcus," I held my wine cup, taking delicate steps, and moved through the crowd directly to his front. Those who had been surrounding him immediately dispersed tactfully, making way for me.
Lord Marcus was clearly somewhat overwhelmed by the unexpected favor, and hastily bowed respectfully, his posture reverent yet not sycophantic: "Your servant, Marcus, pays respects to Your Highness."
"Lord Marcus need not be so formal," I smiled, allowing my gaze to linger unabashedly on his handsome face for a moment. "I just heard your excellent discourse on how the court should appoint officials—that we should not be constrained by convention, but select based solely on talent. These words deeply resonate with me. My mother, when she was alive, often said that all heroes of the realm were within her grasp. Indeed, talented people are the foundation of a nation. Lord Marcus, for someone so young to have such insight, your future prospects are truly limitless."
My voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable power. These words were part compliment, part expectation, and an unmistakable recruitment. Marcus was a clever man, and he immediately understood my underlying meaning. A glimmer of excitement flashed in his eyes, and his cheeks flushed slightly. He raised his wine cup, his voice trembling slightly with emotion: "Your Highness flatters me too much, I am unworthy of such praise. To receive Your Highness's recognition is truly my greatest fortune in three lifetimes. Allow me to offer Your Highness a toast."
I clinked glasses with him lightly and drained mine in one go. I knew that this first move in my game had been played correctly. The fish had seen the bait and had taken interest without hesitation.
However, just as I had turned my full attention to Marcus, from the corner of my eye I glimpsed a figure in the corner. It was a young man, sitting alone at a table farthest from the crowd, silently drinking his wine, neither engaging in conversation nor joining any of the festivities, as if the entire hall's commotion had nothing to do with him. Yet his eyes were like those of a hawk hidden in the shadows—sharp, calm, observing everyone present, including me, without any hint of emotion.
My heart, in that instant, felt as if it had been lightly pricked by an invisible needle. I recognized him. He was my nephew, the third son of my deposed elder brother Prince Robert, Prince Edward. A royal family member with almost no presence in Chang'an city, a young man who had been long ignored by everyone, including myself. Yet such a person carried in his eyes a depth and sharpness that was utterly incongruous with his age and status.
A strange intuition told me that this person, perhaps more than the smooth-talking Marcus, was worth my deeper investigation. I handed my wine cup to the maid and said nonchalantly to Marcus: "Please make yourself comfortable, Lord Marcus. I shall go meet an old acquaintance."
Holding up my skirt, I slowly walked toward that corner. As I approached, Edward finally withdrew his gaze from the distance and fixed it upon me. He stood up, showing not the slightest sign of nervousness, but calmly adjusted his robe and bowed deeply to me: "Aunt."
His voice was deep and steady, revealing no emotion. I walked up to him, immediately putting on a gentle and loving expression, like a genuine aunt who cares for her younger relative. "Why are you sitting here alone? Is it too noisy for you?" I kindly took his hand, gesturing for him to sit down. "How is your royal father doing lately? I've been thinking about him as we haven't met for so long. And you, child, since you've come to Chang'an, why haven't you visited your aunt's residence? If not for today's banquet, I wouldn't have known you were here."
My words were filled with the warmth and care of an elder, every syllable exuding familiarity. Edward's face showed a trace of pleasant surprise. He lowered his head slightly, his posture becoming even more respectful: "Aunt has thousands of matters to attend to daily, your nephew dared not disturb you casually. Father is doing well, thank you for your concern."
"Silly child, we are family, don't talk about being a disturbance." I gently patted the back of his hand, a hand with distinct knuckles, steady and strong, not at all like the hand of a pampered prince. My gaze turned to the center of the hall, where several core members of Empress Victoria's faction were gathered, engaged in animated discussion, full of vigor. "Look," I began softly, as if talking to myself, yet also confiding in him, "the imperial court today is no longer dominated by our family. Your father, the prince, is indifferent by nature and dislikes conflict; my elder brother, the current emperor, is... sigh, too easily swayed. If this continues, I fear this dynasty may soon change its surname."
As I spoke, I carefully observed Edward's reaction. He kept his eyes lowered, making it impossible to read his gaze, but when I mentioned the words "changing surname," I clearly felt his hand, which I was holding, suddenly tighten for a moment. Though it lasted only an instant, almost imperceptibly quick, I still caught it.
It was this momentary reaction that confirmed my judgment. This young man was not truly detached from worldly affairs; he was simply enduring, waiting. In his heart, he harbored waves more turbulent than anyone else's.
I moved closer to him, lowering my voice even further, so that only the two of us could hear: "In the current situation, we are isolated and without help. We must find a way to protect ourselves. Although your aunt is merely a woman, I cannot bear to see our family's realm fall into the hands of outsiders. You are a clever child; you should understand your aunt's meaning."
This is no longer a hint, but almost an explicit invitation to form an alliance. I am gambling, betting that he has the courage, as well as the ambition.
Edward slowly raised his head, meeting my gaze. His eyes remained calm, but in the depths of that calmness, a flame seemed to have been ignited. He didn't directly answer my question, but instead asked: "Your nephew is slow-witted. I am at your disposal, Aunt."
This phrase "I am at your disposal, Aunt" satisfied me more than any passionate promise could. He made no explicit statement, thus leaving no evidence behind. But by giving me the power to choose, he demonstrated the most clever stance. He acknowledged my leadership position and accepted my alliance.
I smiled with satisfaction and patted his hand again: "Good child, with these words from you, your aunt can rest assured. Remember, if you ever face any difficulties in the future, just come find me. The gates of Taiping Manor will always be open for you."
The banquet continued until late into the night before gradually dispersing. The guests, reeking of alcohol and harboring various complicated thoughts, took their leave in small groups. According to my plan, I kept Lord Marcus behind alone, using the pretext of discussing construction matters in the mansion.
The hall, now empty of music and people, seemed somewhat vast and desolate as maids efficiently cleared away the remnants of the feast. I led Lord Marcus through the corridor to the Moon-Embracing Pavilion in the rear garden of the mansion. The night was deep, with a bright, clear moon hanging in the sky, its cool radiance spilling over the pavilions and waterside structures, as well as upon the two of us. The evening breeze wafted by, bringing waves of flower fragrance that refreshed the spirit.
"Your Highness has kept me here late at night; may I ask what instructions you have?" Lord Marcus's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible nervousness, and perhaps a measure of anticipation.
I didn't answer him immediately. Instead, I lifted my head to gaze at the bright moon in the night sky and recited leisurely: "The moon spirit first emerges as autumn dew forms, its light gauze already thin, not yet changing clothes." This was one of mother's favorite verses. I turned around, my phoenix eyes appearing particularly bright in the moonlight, quietly gazing at him: "Lord Marcus, do you know why I asked you to stay behind alone?"
Lord Marcus's heart seemed to skip a beat. He lowered his eyelids and respectfully said: "This humble servant is slow-witted. May Your Highness please enlighten me."
"You are not slow-witted," I laughed softly, slowly walking to his side, almost able to smell the faint scent of ink and wine on him. "You are the most outstanding young talent in the current court. Your brilliance, your ambitions—I see them all clearly. It's a pity that the pearl is gathering dust, the jade remains uncarved. Today's court is controlled by a group of mediocre individuals, while those with true talent face obstacles everywhere and cannot fully display their abilities. Don't you feel aggrieved by this?"
My voice was full of bewitchment, like a specter under moonlight, precisely striking the deepest desires and discontent in his heart. Lord Marcus's breathing noticeably quickened. He raised his head, eyes blazing with fervent flames: "I... I am willing to serve Your Highness with utmost loyalty, even unto death!"
"I don't want you to die. I want you to live well, to live more gloriously than anyone else." I extended my finger, gently brushing across the jade pendant on his collar, the cold sensation making his entire body tremble. "Deputy Minister of Personnel is a good position, but not enough. I want you to become the Minister of Personnel, to become the Imperial Secretary, to become the Grand Chancellor who stands above all but one. I want you to stand at the pinnacle of power, and together with me, look down upon the vast lands of the Great Tang."
These words were like a thunderbolt exploding in his heart. He looked at me in shock, his lips slightly parted, as if he couldn't believe his own ears. A princess promising the position of Grand Chancellor to a subject—how incredibly rebellious, and yet how... tempting.
As I watched his dazed expression, the smile on my lips deepened. I removed the golden hairpin with nine phoenix birds holding pearls from my hair—the symbol of my power and status—and then, with my own hands, inserted it into his hair crown. Gold and jade collided, producing a crisp sound that was particularly clear in the quiet night.
"This hairpin once belonged to the most noble woman in the realm. Now, I bestow it upon you." My fingertips intentionally brushed against the curve of his ear, my voice as soft as a dream whisper, "Lord Marcus, from tonight onward, you belong to me. Your honor, your future, all tied to me alone. Are you willing?"
In the moonlight, he looked at me, his gaze both distant and fervent, like a devout believer gazing up at their deity. Without the slightest hesitation, he fell to his knees, raising both hands high, his voice more resolute and determined than ever before.
"I, Marcus, am willing to... go through fire and water for Your Highness, without reservation."
I looked down at the man kneeling at my feet, and what welled up in my heart was not tenderness, but the pleasure of having control over everything. The night in Chang'an remained cold, but my heart became incredibly hot with the two flames of "ambition" that had been ignited. Marcus, Edward... this was just the beginning. Mother, do you see? Your daughter is following in your footsteps, placing her first piece on the board in this game of power.
I helped Lord Marcus up, holding his hand as we stood side by side in the pavilion, gazing together at the distant palace city shrouded in darkness. The wind stirred my skirt and gently swayed the ornamental hairpin on his official cap.
"The night is deep," I said softly, "but the night in Chang'an has only just begun."
