It was the first time they had been apart for so long since their marriage. Though only three days had passed, she’d woken every night, reaching out to touch the empty sheets, longing for the familiar weight of his arm, the warmth of his chest.

When had she become so reliant on him? She lay staring at the canopy above, lost in thought. Just as she resolved to force herself back to sleep, a commotion erupted outside. “Aqing,” she called out, “What’s happening?”

With Zong Jun away, the maids had resumed sleeping in the outer chamber. Tonight, it was Aqing’s turn. The young woman, startled awake, slipped on her embroidered shoes. “Don’t worry, Great Khatun,” she said, “I’ll go and see.”

Aqing lifted the tent flap. Several torches blazed outside, illuminating the brightly lit tent of the Great Khatun. Catching a passing servant girl’s sleeve, she asked, inclining her head towards the light, “What’s going on? Is she causing trouble again?”

After falling out of favor, Hu Lan had initially caused frequent disturbances. When Yao Ji and Zong Jun ignored her, she’d eventually quieted down. Aqing assumed she was at it again. “The Great Khatun claims there’s a thief in the main tent,” the servant girl replied.

“A thief?” Aqing scoffed. “This is the heart of the Great Khan's golden encampment. What fool would dare trespass here?” Even with Zong Jun’s absence, the place was heavily guarded. It seemed more likely that the Great Khatun was taking advantage of the Khan’s absence to stir up trouble. The princess was carrying the little prince; what if the disturbance upset her?

With this thought, Aqing strode towards the main tent. Inside, bright tallow candles illuminated every detail. She stopped abruptly, a chill running down her spine. Before she could turn, a sudden gust of wind extinguished every candle.

“Prin…” she began to cry out, but a sharp pain at the base of her skull cut her short. As darkness consumed her, she glimpsed a tall, dark figure moving towards the inner chambers…

“Yaoyao, Yaoyao….”

Yao Ji heard someone calling her name through the haze of unconsciousness. Was it Zong Jun? Only he called her that. A surge of joy coursed through her. Had he returned? 

But the voice was clearer, brighter, almost like… Her eyes snapped open. A devastatingly handsome young man knelt beside her, gazing at her with concern.

“…Moroha?” It had been so long since she’d last seen him. She tried to sit up. Only three months pregnant, her belly was still flat, and she was usually agile. Yet, a strange weakness permeated her limbs. As she pushed herself up, she swayed and would have fallen if not for the young man’s hand, which steadied her waist.

She remembered lying in bed, a strange fragrance filling the air, and then…nothing.

“It was you…” she stammered, looking at Moroha with wide, confused eyes. “You saved me?”

A bitter smile touched his lips.

Realization dawned. He hadn’t saved her; he’d taken her. Despite this, a strange calmness settled over her. She instinctively knew he wouldn’t harm her. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice level.

He wouldn’t have taken her without reason. She was to be a bargaining chip.

“Zong Jun should know you’re missing by now,” Moroha said, ignoring her question. “The unrest in the north was orchestrated by me, through my old contacts. It was a ploy to draw him away. He won’t have time to come for you, unless,” he paused, his gaze locking with hers, “he’s willing to abandon the campaign for you.”

“What do you think,” he smiled, “Zong Jun will choose?”