Page 2 of Two Thousand Blades

This had to be a mistake.

“You are all charged with conspiring against the Dragon Throne and have been branded traitors. Your lives are forfeit,” Jiang Chong announced, sending a biting cold straight to the pit of Xiang’s stomach.

“Lies!” Luo Jia Wei shouted.

With a smirk, Jiang Chong pulled a red scroll from his belt and held it up above his head. “I carry an edict from the emperor.”

Liu An gripped his brother’s shoulder and stepped in front of him, as if wanting to shield him from Jiang Chong and the hideous order that held their lives. “Emperor Wu is dying. There’s no point in hiding any longer that illness has gripped him since the start of winter.”

Liu Ci dropped into his chair as if his legs had given out and passed a hand over his graying hair, pulling loose a couple of strands that now stuck to the sweat glistening on his forehead. “We’re worried about the emperor and the nation.”

Xiang dared to slide his gaze to his father to find that he’d been staring at him this entire time. His face had turned so ghastly pale, but there was still some fire in his eyes, hints of the stubborn man who’d spent a lifetime maneuvering his way through the court to attain a prominent position. The man who’d plotted out the course of his children’s lives with the same ruthlessness.

Straightening his spine, Xiang gripped the edge of his mask and pulled it below his chin as he met his father’s stare. Li Guangli wanted him to be a great protector of the Dragon Throne, and that was what he’d become.

Li Guangli’s muscles flexed in his jaw, and his eyes snapped from his son to Jiang Chong. “The emperor has lost his way. The man who brought Confucian reforms to our government, expanded our lands, and even solidified our trade routes to the west through taming the nomadic tribes is gone. For years, our people have been mired in endless battles that have gained us no ground and high taxation that has driven the peasants to revolt. He listens to false claims of conspiracy and witchcraft that ended in the death of loyal Crown Prince Ju.”

“Even the emperor must understand that his time is dwindling,” Liu An pressed.

“And what?” Jiang Chong interrupted, his tone almost laughing as he tucked the edict in his belt. “The emperor’s brothers are plotting to steal the Dragon Throne before it has even lost the heat of Emperor Wu’s body?”

Liu Ci dropped his trembling hand on the arm of the chair and sighed. “My brother and I have no desire to rule, but since the death of Crown Prince Ju, Emperor Wu has not named a new heir. He has two level-headed sons, Liu Dan and Liu Xu. Either of them can chart a strong path forward for the nation, but if he passes without a name on the Dragon Scroll, the nation could fall into turmoil.”

“Who says the emperor has not completed a new Dragon Scroll since the passing of Crown Prince Ju?” Jiang Chong grinned as he lifted his free hand. “I held it in my hand and passed it along to the head eunuch just the other day.”

“What? Why hasn’t it been announced?” Liu An demanded.

“I’m afraid the emperor remains skeptical of the skills of the Prince of Yan and the Prince of Guangling,” Jiang Chong corrected, using the formal titles of the emperor’s two eldest sons.

The four conspirators twisted to stare at each other as they took in Jiang Chong’s words. A mocking smile continued to play on the vampire’s lips, chilling Xiang to his core. He had no doubt that what Jiang Chong said was the truth. He alone held the emperor’s full trust.

“I-I don’t understand,” Luo Jia Wei stammered. “If Emperor Wu doesn’t wish to make Liu Dan or Liu Xu the next crown prince, whose name is on the Dragon Scroll?”

“You can’t mean Liu Fuling!” Xiang’s father gasped. “The child hasn’t even reached his sixth birthday yet. The emperor’s health is far too fragile for him to remain alive long enough to guide the youngest prince to his majority. A regent would need to be named?—”

Jiang Chong’s deep sleeves swung out like a pair of black wings as he placed his hands before him and bowed to the small gathering. “Regent Huo Guang, at your service. I am prepared to guide the nation and oversee the training of the young crown prince until he is of proper age to ascend to the Dragon Throne as the next emperor.”

The fierce howl of the wind was the only thing to break the suffocating silence of the room, as it rushed past the windows and battered the walls. Winter’s cold reached in to freeze Xiang’s thoughts. Jiang Chong, in a new disguise, was going to claim the title of regent? He was going to be running the nation?

This felt…wrong.

Frightening for all the people of their nation.

But it was the will of the emperor. Xiang’s one job now was to protect the emperor and carry out his will.

As he straightened, Jiang Chong huffed a laugh and added, “You need not worry about the new crown prince’s mother. Emperor Wu has already ordered that Consort Zhao will not live to see his last days. After suffering under the thumb of the Grand Empress Dowager Dou at the beginning of his reign, he does not wish for the crown prince to fight a similar battle for power with his mother.”

Jiang Chong clapped his hands together, the sharp sound seeming to startle the gathering of conspirators from their thoughts. “But you won’t have to worry about the future of the Dragon Throne or this nation for another moment.” He placed his hands together so that they were lost within the voluminous sleeves and turned his head to Xiang on his right. “Complete your duty to your emperor,” he commanded, his voice colder than the icy wind still crying outside the building.

Xiang stepped forward, his fist tightening on the hilt of his sword. His step hesitated for a heartbeat when he felt a tug on his sleeve, reminding him that Junjie was still holding on to him. But on the next step, Junjie moved around him, approaching the men standing on the left.

Lifting his sword, he stared deep into his father’s pale-brown eyes. Nearly a decade had passed since he’d last stood before this man. There were more lines crisscrossing his face, reaching out from his eyes and bracketing the thin lips of his mouth. Gray hairs filled his temples where his hair had been pure black not that long ago. Even his figure was fuller now with middle age, as if the hard man had softened with luxury and excess from living within the imperial capital.

Regardless of his reasons, no one had a right to sway the mind of the emperor regarding the heir to the throne. The emperor’s will represented heaven’s will, not man’s.

His father was just a man.

And now he was a traitor.

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