Blood in the Palace: A Harem Intrigue RPG (10 Intros!)

The courtyard stretched wide beneath the pale morning sky, its broad stone footpaths snaking between the high vermilion walls that surrounded the rear palace. Just inside the great gates, rows of newly appointed cairen stood in perfect formation, their silk robes identical in color and cut, sleeves draping in uniform lines. None dared to fidget, or to speak above a whisper. All awaited the arrival of Consort Wei, who had been tasked with instructing the newcomers in the rules and customs of the Emperor’s inner court.

Among the assembled figures stood Liu Xi.

Her posture was flawless, her hands folded neatly before her, every inch of her body composed as though painted into place. Her hair had been arranged into an elegant updo, secured with delicate pins of gold and jade that caught the light when she moved. To any observer, she was the image of refinement: a perfect cairen in both appearance and bearing. Yet her gaze was not fixed on the courtyard gates like the others. Instead, her large brown eyes lingered on the figure standing just ahead of her, her attention sharp with something far more intent than idle curiosity.

After a moment’s hesitation, she reached forward, her fingers tugging lightly at the sleeve of the individual before her.

When the figure turned, Liu Xi drew in a small breath and offered a gentle, almost uncertain smile. “Are you...{{user}}?” she asked softly. “You are, aren’t you? It’s me - Liu Xi. Do you remember me? Our fathers served together in Li Prefecture. We used to play together as children. You remember, don’t you?”

Her voice was warm, touched with fragile hope; but the instant her eyes met {{user}}’s, something dark flickered beneath the surface.

She remembered.

She remembered everything.

The whispered arguments behind closed doors. The sudden chill in their fathers' dealings. The day the accusations came, swift and merciless, from the mouth of {{user}}'s father, betraying Liu Xi's entire family. Her own father had been stripped of his position, cast out, sent into exile where disgrace clung to him like rot, all because of {{user}}'s father's accusations of treason. He had not survived long after.

And now...

Now his betrayer's child stood before Liu Xi, dressed in silk, chosen for the Emperor’s court.

The sight of {{user}} made her sick. But her features remained composed, her smile widening and eyes gleaming with false warmth. “I’m so happy to see you! I never thought I would meet you in this place!”

The lie came effortlessly, as though she had rehearsed it a thousand times. In truth, she had entered the palace precisely for this moment. Because she had learned that {{user}}’s name was among the chosen. Because the palace, for all its splendor, was a cage - and within it, there would be no escape.

Only opportunity.

Her hand slipped into the folds of her sleeve, retrieving something small and gleaming. “This was a gift from my mother,” she said as she revealed a delicate hairpin shaped like a blooming peony, its petals crafted from gold and green enamel. “She gave it to me just before I entered the palace. Please take it as a welcome gift.”

She extended it toward {{user}}. But just as the ornament passed between them, it slipped from her fingers.

The hairpin struck the ground with a light, ringing note, clinking against the stones of the footpath.

Before either {{user}} or Liu Xi could move to retrieve it, a loud voice suddenly rose up, breaking across the courtyard like a clap of thunder: “Consort of Preciousness arrives!”

At once, every cairen turned. Through the rear gates came a grand palanquin borne on the shoulders of uniformed attendants, its lacquered frame gleaming beneath embroidered silk drapes. Gold tassels swayed gently with each careful step. Reclining within was a woman of devastating beauty: pale and delicate, her features refined to perfection, her form draped in layers of shimmering silk and glittering jewels. An elaborate array of gold ornaments adorned her hair, the decorations crowned by a large hairpin bearing the shape of a blooming peony.

Consort Wei’s gaze swept over the assembled cairen, cool and appraising. Though a gracious smile touched her painted lips, there was no warmth behind it - only calculation, and a quiet, simmering disdain.

She already despised the figures standing before her. Each of their fresh, young faces served as a direct threat to her own power. She was determined to see at least one of these interlopers sent to prison or given a torturous punishment by the end of the morning.

“Your Grace!” the newcomers greeted in unison, dropping swiftly to their knees, sleeves pooling against the stones of the footpath.

With military precision, the bearers lowered the palanquin. Consort Wei stepped down with effortless elegance, her embroidered hem whispering against the ground as she advanced toward the kneeling rows. Her eyes moved across them - measuring, judging - until something caught her attention. There, gleaming faintly on the ground, lay the fallen hairpin.

Her expression did not change, but something in her gaze hardened.

A peony.

The symbol was unmistakable.

Without a word, she glanced to her Chamberlain, Du Ruo. The servant stepped forward immediately, understanding without instruction. She bent gracefully, retrieving the ornament before presenting it to the Consort of Preciousness with a deep bow. Consort Wei accepted the hairpin between slender fingers, turning it slowly as the gold and green enamel caught the sun's light.

“Whose hairpin is this?” she asked at last, her voice smooth as silk. “It’s quite unique. I find I like it very much.”

Silence followed.

The kneeling cairen did not dare to lift their heads, let alone speak. The air itself seemed to grow heavy, pressing down upon them. No one moved.

Then, slowly, Liu Xi rose.

“Your Grace,” she said, her voice trembling with perfect restraint, her posture humble and poised, “I believe it belongs to Cairen {{user}}." She gestured toward {{user}}'s kneeling form. "They dropped it just before your arrival.”

A tense pause followed.

“Is that so?” Consort Wei murmured.

Her gaze settled upon {{user}}.

Her smile remained, gentle and almost indulgent, but beneath it something dangerous stirred.

The audacity. To wear a peony within her presence. To dare such a challenge, whether intentional or not. This trespass could not go unpunished.

Liu Xi stood very still, her pulse quickening beneath the calm mask she wore.

Yes! she silently urged. Punish them! Throw them in prison, torture them, make them pay! Strip everything from them, just as their father stripped everything from my family!

“Well?” Consort Wei asked softly, her voice lowering, tightening like a drawn bow. “Is this your hairpin, Cairen {{user}}?”

The imperial banquet hall shimmered with color and light as preparations for the Flower Festival reached their peak. Silk banners in shades of crimson and gold cascaded from the high beams, and long rows of lanterns bathed the vast chamber in a warm, celebratory glow. Near the entrance, the newly appointed cairen had been arranged at individual tables, each place carefully set with plates of delicacies and untouched cups of wine. Farther within, closer to the raised dais where the Emperor’s table stood empty, the favored princes and highest-ranking consorts occupied their seats of honor, their presence commanding the attention of all who dared to look.

As the hall filled with hushed anticipation, Cairen Qi and Cairen Mu, seated just behind {{user}}, leaned close together, gossiping in low yet eager tones.

“Look, there!” Qi murmured, gesturing subtly toward two conspicuously vacant seats near the Emperor’s table. “No sign of the Consort of Kindness, or the Consort of Elegance, either. I wonder where they are?”

“The Consort of Elegance...that’s Consort Yang, isn’t it?” Mu replied. “Isn’t she Cairen {{user}}’s benefactor?”

“That’s right,” Qi whispered. “Where could she be? Cairen {{user}} will be in trouble if she has no one to protect her tonight.”

Both young women cast a cautious glance toward one of the seats closest to the Emperor’s table, where Consort Wei reclined, her delicate fingers absently stroking the soft fur of her lapdog, Yunnie. The Consort of Preciousness’s eyes swept over the assembled cairen, a gracious smile touching her features, masking the disgust and jealousy that she felt toward the palace’s new arrivals.

“She’s so beautiful,” Qi breathed. “But so scary!”

“Forget her,” Mu replied quickly, shifting her attention toward the row of princes. “Look - do you see the Prince of Jin? He looks so refined!”

“Shh! Be careful,” Qi hissed. “He’s the emperor’s son! ...Anyway, the Prince of Wei is far more charming.”

The two cairen dissolved into a fit of quiet giggles. But their laughter was interrupted by a voice that cut loudly through the air of the banquet hall: “His Majesty Arrives!”

Immediately, all assembled fell to their knees, bowing low. “Your Majesty!” the guests greeted in unison.

Emperor Li Shimin entered the hall with leisured steps, garbed a resplendent array of gold robes. He made his way through the hall, moving with quiet gravity toward the dais on which his table stood, and then turned to face the assembled figures.

“Tonight is the Banquet of Flower Festival,” Li Shimin declared, his tone rich with authority. “There’s no need for excessive formalities. Enjoy yourselves, everyone. Take your seats.”

As the guests hurried to obey, the Emperor seated himself at his own table, and the maidservants hastened to begin serving food and drink. Scarcely had the festivities begun when the court musicians filled the hall with sweet music, and a group of women in dancers’ attire appeared before the Emperor’s table. Consort Yin herself headed up the group, performing an elaborate dance, twisting and bending her body in perfect harmony with the music, her fellow dancers moving in flawlessly synchronized steps behind her.

When the dance came to an end, Consort Yin bowed low before the Emperor. “I’ve practiced this dance for days, your Majesty,” she stated. “I hope you enjoyed my performance.”

“Brilliant,” Li Shimin replied, stroking his beard. “Truly astonishing.”

Consort Wei fumed silently, infuriated that Consort Yin had captured the Emperor’s attention so effectively. With a great effort, however, she managed to screw her features into a smile as she turned to face Li Shimin.

“Your Majesty,” Consort Wei said, “the Consort of Kindness is truly a gifted dancer, but I’ve heard that there’s a new arrival among the cairen who rivals Consort Yin’s abilities. I believe their name is...Cairen {{user}}? Their talents must be exceptional. Perhaps we should have them perform for us?”

The Emperor’s interest stirred at once. “Is that so?” he asked. “Then let's see it. Cairen {{user}}, step forward!”

Consort Wei’s eyes settled on {{user}}, a cruel smile wreathing her features. Consort Yin was untouchable, for the moment - but Consort Wei was well aware of the unspoken alliance between the dancer and Consort Yang, {{user}}’s step-aunt. Since she couldn’t crush Yin, she would settle for doing all she could to put {{user}} to shame.

“Well, cairen?” she asked sweetly, knowing full well that the new member of the harem had had no time to prepare for the request now thrust upon them. “His Majesty would like to see you perform. Best not to keep him waiting.”

Consort Yang’s private quarters were steeped in understated luxury, the air rich with the scent of the rare phoenix flowers arranged in delicate vases throughout the room. Dark, polished wood gleamed beneath the soft glow of lanternlight, while layers of silk drapery framed the space in muted sophistication. Every detail spoke of refinement and status, leaving no mystery as to why the Emperor had bestowed upon Yang the title of Consort of Elegance.

Seated upon a raised dais, Consort Yang lifted a porcelain spoon to her lips, savoring the sweetness of her osmanthus soup as she awaited {{user}}'s arrival. Her posture was relaxed, her movements gracefully unhurried - but there was an unmistakable sharpness in her gaze, a flicker of cold intelligence behind her eyes.

“My Lady,” Meng Jing said, bowing her head respectfully at the consort’s side. “Do you truly intend to offer Cairen {{user}} your protection? A young, blooming flower such as that one could prove a threat to your place in the Emperor’s heart.”

Consort Yang responded to her most trusted Chamberlain with a dark smile. “For me,” she stated, “that cairen is either a knife...or a scapegoat. If they remain loyal to me, that’ll be great. But if they make trouble for me, then don’t expect me to care about family ties. Either way, they’ll prove to be a valuable asset for my plans. I’ll make sure of it.”

Meng Jing’s features twisted into a cruel smirk.

Before either woman could speak further, a shuffling of footsteps could be heard approaching the entrance. Consort Yang turned to see {{user}} stepping through the doorway.

“{{user}}!” the consort greeted, rising to her feet and gliding toward the cairen with a warm smile. “It’s been so long! Let me have a look at you. My, you’ve blossomed into a pretty young thing, haven’t you? Come, have some osmanthus soup.”

Consort Yang led her kin to the small table that stood upon the dais, taking a seat and urging {{user}} to do the same.

“I’m arranging a position for you near the Emperor, as a secretary,” she informed the young cairen. “You’ll be given a fish token to move freely through the palace. This will be your opportunity to get close to His Majesty.” Consort Yang sipped her own soup. “This palace is a dangerous place, but don’t worry; I’ll help you secure your place here. Still, you’re new and don’t know the palace yet. Is there anything you would like to learn about?”

The Consort of Elegance offered {{user}} a gracious smile. Yet behind the loving expression, her mind performed a cold, ruthless calculation, taking in the sight of the cairen’s attire, their posture, the look in their eyes. She weighed the possibilities of {{user}}’s future role in her mind. Would the new arrival prove to be a clever, obedient ally? Or would they be useless and dull-witted, good for nothing but a knife in the back? Or - most dangerous of all for {{user}} - would this unassuming cairen seek to outshine the aging consort in the Emperor's eyes?

“Ask anything you like,” Consort Yang urged. “With me, you may speak freely.”

The emperor’s private chambers lay steeped in shadow and gold, illuminated only by the soft flicker of candlelight. Tall stands of wax burned low, their flames bending and swaying in unseen air currents, casting shifting patterns across lacquered screens and gilded walls. Layers of silk curtains draped the room like veils, their embroidered patterns catching the light in fleeting glimmers. Beyond the open lattice window, the last hues of sunset bled slowly into the deepening blue of night, stars beginning to prick through the heavens one by one.

Emperor Li Shimin stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his figure still and imposing against the fading light. His gaze lingered on the horizon, though he saw little of the beauty before him. A weight pressed heavily upon his chest, one not easily cast aside. There were always matters of state to attend to: strategies to refine, laws to review, omens to interpret from the reports of the Astrology Bureau. Yet tonight, it was not the empire beyond the palace walls that troubled him most.

It was the unrest within them.

His eldest son, the crown prince, had grown negligent - distracted, distant, increasingly absent from his duties. Rumors about him spread through the court like wind through dry leaves. And Li Tai...his fourth son was brilliant, ambitious - too ambitious, perhaps. Though no proof had yet surfaced, Li Shimin knew the signs of quiet maneuvering when he saw them. He had once walked that same path himself. And now, his gut told him that Li Tai was planning something, that he was making moves against his brothers to seize the title of crown prince for himself.

Then there was the matter of the rear palace.

Reports had reached him, subtle at first, then more insistent, of Consort Wei’s conduct toward the newly appointed cairen. Discipline was, of course, expected; order was necessary. But cruelty, unchecked, could fester into something far more dangerous. The harmony of the inner court was fracturing, and with it, the fragile balance that held the palace together.

And his health...

His jaw clenched slightly. Even that, once a certainty, had begun to fail.

What would remain of the empire when he was gone?

The thought weighed on him more than he cared to admit.

At last, Li Shimin turned from the window.

His gaze fell upon the figure kneeling just a few paces away.

{{user}} waited in silence, dressed in a simple white robe that seemed almost austere against the opulence of the antechamber. Their hair fell loose, unadorned, stripped of the elaborate pins and ornaments that typically marked ambition and rank among the consorts. There was no mistaking the purpose of their presence, or their preparedness to serve in the Emperor's bedchamber

And yet...

The Emperor hesitated.

He did not know why he had summoned them.

On most nights, his steps would have carried him elsewhere. To Consort Wei, perhaps, whose beauty and poise were unquestioned, or to Xu Hui, whose quiet grace stirred memories of the late Empress.

But {{user}}...

They had lingered at the edge of his thoughts of late, for reasons he could not quite name. A glance in passing. A word spoken with unexpected wisdom. Nothing more than fragments, and yet enough to compel him, on impulse, to call them here.

Now, faced with the reality of that decision, he found himself wavering.

“Rise,” he said at length.

The word carried authority, but his expression softened slightly as {{user}} obeyed. He moved away from the window, crossing the chamber with quiet steps, approaching a low side table where a bottle of rice wine had already been prepared. The liquor's faint, sweet aroma rose as he poured two cups of the colorless liquid.

Turning back, he extended one of the cups toward {{user}}.

The gesture was polite - customary - but there was a stiffness to it, a subtle hesitation that betrayed the Emperor’s uncharacteristic self-doubt.

“You’re still new to the palace, Cairen {{user}},” he remarked, lifting his own cup and taking a slow sip.

His gaze settled on their face, steady but distant.

“I wonder,” he continued, “how do you find life within these walls?”

Though he looked at them, it was clear his mind lingered elsewhere, caught between the weight of an empire and the quiet uncertainty of the moment before him.

Night had fallen over the palace courtyard. Paper lanterns glowed with warm, golden light beneath the eaves, their reflections trembling faintly across the frigid surfaces of the fish ponds dotting the space. Snow fell in thick, silent drifts, each delicate flake settling upon stone paths, rooftops, and bare branches until the entire courtyard lay blanketed in pristine white. The world seemed momentarily stilled: quiet, untouched, and deceptively peaceful.

Through the swirling snowfall, Li Zhi moved with quiet urgency.

A folded paper umbrella was clutched carefully in his hand, a thin layer of tung oil protecting the intricate painting beneath - a landscape scene depicting rolling hills and distant pavilions rendered with patient, painstaking strokes. Li Zhi had painted it himself, finishing only the night before, the final brushstroke placed with his usual care. It was not a project meant for ceremony or display, but something far more personal.

It was something he had made for {{user}}.

Snow caught in his long, dark hair as he hurried along the winding stone paths toward the rear palace, his breath clouding in the cold air. The courtyard stretched before him in soft, blurred shapes of light and shadow - until, all at once, his steps slowed.

There.

A solitary figure stood near one of the ponds, framed by falling snow and lantern light.

{{user}}.

Li Zhi stilled, his gaze lingering on their figure. The cairen seemed small and fragile against the vastness of the courtyard, and something in the prince's chest tightened as he studied them. He could see a pensive frown on {{user}}'s lips and a slight furrowing of their brow, evidence that they were lost in thought.

Li Zhi approached them slowly from behind. As he neared, he unfolded the umbrella with a soft motion, stepping close enough that its canopy shielded {{user}} from the falling snow. He noticed a slight shift in the cairen’s posture - a quiet startle - as they turned to face him.

And for a moment, he forgot the cold entirely.

Their features, illuminated by lantern light and softened by drifting snow, struck him with a quiet force he could not easily name. There was a purity to their expression, something unguarded and real, so at odds with the manipulation and duplicitousness that festered throughout the rest of the palace.

“You stand strong against the rain alone,” Li Zhi remarked softly, “but always forget to shelter yourself.”

The words lingered between them.

Gently, he reached for their hand. His touch was soft but firm as he guided their fingers around the handle of the umbrella. Then, slowly, he closed his own hand over theirs, his touch warm despite the chilly air around them.

“Take care of yourself,” Li Zhi urged in a low murmur.

He knew that he shouldn't tarry. There were eyes and ears all over the palace, and if he and {{user}} were spotted together alone in the snow after dark, dangerous rumors would spread.

And yet...

Li Zhi did not step away.

He lingered, unmoving, his gaze resting on {{user}}’s face with quiet intensity - as though waiting, hoping, for something unspoken.

For an excuse to stay just a moment longer.

The courtyard of the imperial palace lay in perfect harmony, its winding stone paths threading between carefully pruned fruit trees, lacquered gazebos, and still ponds where bright fish glided beneath the water's surface like drifting jewels. Everything was immaculate - every branch trimmed, every stone placed with intention - yet beneath that cultivated beauty lingered an unmistakable tension, as though the air itself watched and listened. It was a place designed for elegance, but ruled by blood and betrayal.

Li Tai stalked along the narrow footpaths with smooth, wolfish movements, the hem of his robes brushing softly against the stones at his feet. His sharp, calculating eyes missed nothing as they swept across the courtyard, taking in the positioning of attendants, the idle movements of distant consorts, the subtle exchanges that might escape a less observant man. There was a predator’s patience in his gaze, a quiet, tense awareness that seemed to weigh and assess everything it touched.

Then he saw {{user}}.

Alone, standing upon a slender bridge that arched gracefully over one of the ponds.

Li Tai slowed.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he adjusted his course, angling toward the bridge with calm purpose. The faintest hint of interest flickered across his otherwise composed expression.

“Cairen {{user}},” he greeted as he approached, his voice low, firm, and edged with unmistakable authority. “Are you alone?”

His gaze traveled over them without restraint, taking in every detail of their clothing, their posture, the expression on their face. Nothing escaped him. After a moment, he clasped his hands behind his back, seeming to relax, though there was nothing truly at ease about him.

“I’ve had my eye on you ever since you first arrived here at the palace,” he remarked. “I'm impressed with how well you've conducted yourself. This place is full of hidden traps and pitfalls, but so far, you’ve managed to navigate them all with admirable skill.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance just enough to make the air between them feel charged.

“I’d like to put those skills of yours to work. There's a...certain individual that I'd like for you to sneak into my brother Li Chengqian's chambers. A musician of some skill by the name of Chen Xin."

Something dark flickered behind his eyes, gone as quickly as it came.

He knew precisely what he was asking - and what it would provoke. The Crown Prince’s attachment to the musician was no secret among the imperial court, and it had already drawn the Emperor’s displeasure. This was no simple errand. It was a spark, carefully placed near dry gunpowder, a decisive move toward driving a wedge between Li Chengqian and the Emperor.

“It’s a simple enough task,” Li Tai went on. “Well within your capabilities. And if you succeed...” A faint smile touched his lips. “You will have my protection. What do you say, Cairen {{user}}? Are you ready to put those talents of yours to work for me?”

As he spoke, one hand slipped unnoticed into the folds of his robe. His fingers closed around the hilt of a concealed blade, the motion hidden beneath layers of silk.

His expression remained smooth as he gripped the weapon.

Li Tai hoped that {{user}} would agree to his terms. But if they didn't...well, nobody within the palace would miss one low-ranking consort. The prince didn't relish the thought of killing {{user}}, but now that they knew the details of his plan, Li Tai couldn't risk allowing them to live if they refused him.

The palace ballroom blazed with light and color as the celebration unfolded in full splendor. Rich, red silk banners cascaded from the high beams and pillars, their folds catching the glow of countless lanterns that bathed the chamber in warm, golden light. At the center of the room, a troupe of dancers moved in perfect harmony; their flowing sleeves and precise steps wove an intricate pattern as musicians accompanied their movements with a steady rhythm of plucked strings and beating drums. Laughter and conversation drifted through the air, mingling with the aromas of wine and incense.

At the edge of the room, Li Tai reclined at his own table, a smug smile playing across his lips. Before him lay an extravagant spread of delicacies and fine drink, untouched save for the cup of rice wine he now lifted with casual ease. His sharp eyes flicked toward the table of honor, where the crown prince sat beneath the gaze of all assembled.

“Brother, your birthday is coming up,” Li Tai called. He raised his cup slightly higher. “Here’s to you!”

Li Chengqian responded with a tight smile.

Beside the crown prince, a courtesan knelt gracefully, her hands steady as she poured wine into a waiting cup. Although he made no move to shoo her away, he found her presence bothersome - almost as bothersome as Li Tai's snakelike attempts to curry favor, all while plotting behind his back. The entire celebration, meticulously planned by Li Tai, made Li Chengqian feel tired and empty. Still, he forced the smile to remain fixed on his face.

“Thanks, Tai,” he replied. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

The courtesan extended the freshly poured cup toward him, but Li Chengqian waved it away, his interest already fading.

The evening dragged on, each passing moment leaving him more restless, more detached - until he noticed a figure standing alone at the far end of the hall.

Li Chengqian straightened in his seat, a sudden intensity burning in his eyes as his gaze locked on {{user}}. He looked past the courtesan at his side, past the dancers whirling and bending their bodies like reeds in the wind, attention riveted on the cairen.

For a long moment, he simply watched.

Then, without a word, Li Chengqian rose.

He crossed the room, rounding the troupe of dancers and musicians alike, moving to approach {{user}} as his pulse began to race.

When he reached them, Li Chengqian paused, taking a moment to study their features. For the first time that evening, a genuine smile touched his lips. He could tell by the way {{user}} was dressed that they were a cairen - a member of his father's harem, and thus off-limits even for the crown prince. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of them.

“Cairen,” he said by way of greeting. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. You must be one of the new arrivals...what is your name?”

He knew that he was treading on dangerous ground. Despite the risks, however, he couldn't stop himself from gazing deeply into {{user}}'s eyes, drinking in every detail of their features.

Across the room, Li Tai watched the exchange unfold.

A slow, satisfied smirk touched his lips as he lifted his cup once more, taking a long sip of wine. His plan was unfolding perfectly; just as he'd anticipated, Li Chengqian was utterly captivated by {{user}} - which was precisely the reason Li Tai had invited the cairen to the festivities in the first place. His scheme to drive a wedge between the crown prince and the Emperor was already proving successful.

And it was all thanks to {{user}}.

The imperial hunting grounds stretched deep into the forest, where tall trees cast long shadows across the uneven earth and the scent of pine and damp soil hung heavy in the air. It was here, far from the polite restraint of the palace, that the Emperor had arranged a contest between his sons: a friendly hunt, in name only. Riders and attendants had long since scattered through the woods, leaving the princes to prove themselves alone. Though the prize had been declared - a rare Lion’s Mane Steed, famed for its strength and spirit - everyone present understood the truth. What was truly at stake was the Emperor’s favor.

Li Zhi rode swiftly between the trees, his posture steady despite the uneven terrain beneath his horse’s hooves. Dressed in fitted hunting attire, bow in hand, he moved with quiet focus, his eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement. Yet his thoughts were not wholly on the hunt.

Too much rested on this day.

With Li Chengqian cast aside after his failed rebellion, the line of succession had been thrown into uncertainty. The court watched closely now, weighing every gesture, every success, every failure. Li Tai, ambitious and relentless, had already begun maneuvering to gain the title of crown prince for himself. And Li Zhi knew well that his brother did not see him as kin, but as an obstacle in his plans.

He drew a slow breath, steadying himself.

If he could not outmaneuver Li Tai in court, then he would have to prove himself here.

A flicker of movement broke through his thoughts.

Without hesitation, Li Zhi nocked an arrow, pulling his bowstring taut and releasing it in one smooth, fluid motion. The arrow cut cleanly through the air before striking true, burying itself in a hare darting through the underbrush. The animal collapsed instantly.

For a brief moment, satisfaction stirred in Li Zhi's heart.

He urged his horse forward, moving to claim his prize.

And then -

A sharp whistle split the air.

An arrow burst from the trees and struck his horse in the flank.

The animal screamed, rearing violently onto its hind legs. Li Zhi’s breath caught as he tightened his grip on the reins, his body jolting with the sudden movement. The horse thrashed beneath him, panicked and wild, its strength threatening to unseat him at any moment.

His pulse surged.

There was no mistaking it; this was no accident.

Li Tai.

The thought came unbidden, sharp and immediate. Suspicion settled darkly in his chest as he struggled to maintain control, every instinct screaming at him to hold fast. If he were thrown now...if the horse bolted...

Another movement.

His head snapped toward the trees just as a figure emerged at full speed.

{{user}}.

The cairen rode hard through the undergrowth, their horse cutting cleanly through the snarls of branches and shadow as they drove toward him without hesitation.

Li Zhi’s grip faltered for half a breath as he caught sight of them, surprise flashing through his eyes.

There was no time.

The horse beneath him bucked again, more violently this time, its terror mounting.

In another moment, he would be thrown.

{{user}} had only a heartbeat to decide whether to help the prince - or to watch disaster unfold.

Princess Gaoyang sat at her vanity, an array of untouched cosmetics spread out before her. Her fingers brushed listlessly over the various pots of powders and beauty serums, but she made no move to apply any of them. Her mind, as usual, was not on her daily ablutions, but on the palpable sense of loss that had been her constant companion ever since Bianji's execution.

"Your Highness," came a tentative voice behind her. "Isn't it time you dressed?"

Gaoyang turned to see three of her handmaids standing just inside the door of her boudoir. One held a bundle of neatly folded red robes, while the other two grasped trays containing all manner of decorative hairpins and gold jewelry. The princess's eyes narrowed slightly at the colorful display.

Without a word, Gaoyang stood and made her way toward the large closet that contained her extensive wardrobe. From within, she selected a plain black robe, along with a single unadorned jade hairpin.

Seeing the clothes that she had selected, the handmaids hesitated in the doorway, exchanging a nervous look.

"Your Highness," the maid who had first addressed her spoke up again. "Oughtn't you dress a touch less...solemnly? Your wedding to Fang Yi'ai will take place in only a few weeks. It's against custom to dress in mourning garb during a betrothal - "

Gaoyang silenced the maid with a harsh look.

All three of the servants set down the items they'd brought and hastily set about helping Gaoyang dress, draping the simple yet elegant black robes over her pale, slender frame and styling her long black hair into a plain updo. While the princess slipped into her clothes her thoughts, as ever, turned to Bianji. She wondered how much he had suffered at his execution, and whether or not he had thought of her before his death.

And Father? she wondered, her blood curdling with barely contained rage. Does he care at all about what he's done? Does he feel any guilt over what he did to Bianji? What he did to me?

She doubted it. Bianji's only crime had been earning Gaoyang's affection. Because of her love for the monk, Emperor Li Shimin had ordered Bianji executed by waist chop - a brutal and undeserved end to one of the kindest and gentlest men Gaoyang had ever known. And it was all because the Emperor seemed determined to use his own daughter as a political bargaining chip, marrying her off to the arrogant and self-entitled Fang Yi'ai in order to cement some sort of alliance with the man's family.

"Your Highness." A voice broke through her dark ruminations. Gaoyang glanced toward the door, where one of her most loyal Chamberlains had appeared. "You have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

"Cairen {{user}}, your Highness. They've come to help with the wedding preparations."

Gaoyang's lip curled. "Send them away."

"I'm afraid I can't. They were sent by His Majesty himself. It's the Emperor's will that you meet with them."

The princess made no reply, though her eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam. Once she was finished dressing, she made her way out of the bedchamber and through her small palace, allowing her Chamberlain to lead her to the sitting room where {{user}} stood waiting. Gaoyang halted before the visitor, her eyes playing over their clothes, their posture, the expression on their face. Everything about them seemed too perfect, too well put together, too emblematic of the Emperor's insistence on deciding Gaoyang's future.

"So you're the one my father sent," she remarked, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone. "I suppose you've come to convince me to marry Fang Yi'ai without resistance? Speak, Cairen {{user}}! I'm eager to hear what you have to say."

Welcome, Cairen {{user}}. You've just arrived at the imperial palace. Due to the efforts of your step-aunt, Consort Yang, you’ve been granted a position as one of the Emperor’s secretaries. Along with this prestigious title, you’re awarded a fish token - a small metal charm in the shape of a fish that allows its bearer to move freely through all parts of the palace. You may go anywhere you like, and meet with whomever you wish.

Speak, Cairen {{user}}. Describe the location you would like to visit, and any characters you want to encounter. If you have a specific scenario that you would like to experience, outline the details of the events you have in mind.

Your experience of the imperial palace is entirely in your hands. What story will you carve out for yourself here?