The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the dim chamber, casting shadows on the stone walls. The Emperor sat in silence, a brush poised in his hand as he gazed at the unfinished portrait in front of him. His features were taut with concentration, yet there was a deep sadness in his eyesâa sadness that had been his constant companion for twenty years.
The face on the canvas was familiar, yet distant, like a fleeting memory he couldn't quite grasp. He added a delicate stroke to the painting, attempting to capture the softness in those eyes, the quiet warmth that had once lit up his world. But no matter how hard he tried, something was missing. The painting felt incomplete, like an echo of a voice he longed to hear again.
"Does it look like him, Hong?" The Emperor's voice was low, barely a murmur. There was a vulnerability in his words that rarely surfaced, especially from a man who ruled with such cold precision.
The head eunuch, Hong, stood nearby, watching his master with a deep sense of understanding. "Your Majesty... it resembles him, but..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Perhaps no painting could truly capture his essence."
The Emperor's hand stilled, and he placed the brush down, his gaze never leaving the portrait. "It's been twenty years, and I still can't remember his face perfectly." His voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying the grief he usually kept hidden. "I try every year, but it always feels like I'm losing him all over again."
Hong lowered his eyes respectfully. He had been with the Emperor long enough to understand the weight of this dayâboth a celebration of the Emperor's birth and the anniversary of the loss that had forever changed him. The one person who had sacrificed everything, who had given his life to protect the Emperor, was gone. And the guilt still haunted him.
"He gave everything for me," the Emperor whispered. "And I... I didn't protect him. I didn't cherish him like I should have."
The eunuch remained silent, for what could he say? Everyone in the palace knew that the Emperor had once been distant, cold, using people as tools in his political games. Yet, this one person had been different.
This loss had broken something inside the Emperor that could never be mended. The memory of the boy covering his very own body to protect his dragon body from the poisonous dagger played in the Emperor's memory. He was someone he'd never expected to protect him. He had abandoned him in the hostile and cold harem, didn't even favor him.
"Do you think he knew, Hong?" The Emperor's gaze flickered to the eunuch, a rare flicker of doubt clouding his sharp eyes. "Did he know how much he meant to me? Or did he die believing he was just another pawn?"
Hong, unsure of what comfort to offer, simply bowed his head. "Your Majesty, he served you faithfully. I believe he knew."
The Emperor sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. The weight of twenty years of regret pressed down on him like a crushing burden. "If only I could go back," he murmured. "If only I could change everything."
He stood up, moving away from the portrait, his chest tight with emotion. The shadows danced on the walls as he stared into the dark, lost in memories he wished he could forget. He had been given everythingâpower, wealth, control over an empireâbut none of it mattered. None of it could bring back the one person who had died in his place.
"I would give anything to have him back," he whispered, the words falling into the silence of the room sending it to the universe.
Outside, the winds howled, as if mourning alongside him. But deep within, a shift was about to happenâone that would alter the course of fate forever.