✦ Chapter 6: The Humiliation ✦
466 Words
My name is Liam Tang, Emperor of the Tang dynasty.
To the world, I am called the God of War.
Titles earned through blood do not fade. Mine was forged on battlefields where hesitation meant death and mercy was a liability. As the eldest of three brothers, the weight of the empire has always rested on my shoulders. While Colton and Ashton stand at a measured distance from the throne, I have never been afforded such luxury. Every victory, every failure, every judgment has been mine alone to carry.
The crown does not forgive weakness.
Neither do I.
I have faced armies without hesitation.
I have survived betrayal without mercy.
Blood and steel have never shaken my resolve.
Yet nothing prepared me for this insult.
First came the proposal—formal, deliberate, and presented as inevitability.
An engagement to the First Princess of the Qing Empire.
It was delivered with polished smiles and careful language, framed as cooperation rather than demand. A treaty clause dressed in courtesy. An alliance announced before my consent was ever requested. The court called it balance, spoke of peace and shared prosperity.
I called it manipulation.
An irritation.
They had mistaken restraint for acquiescence. Had assumed that because I ruled with discipline, I would accept being maneuvered.
Then came the encounter at the spring.
A woman who appeared without warning. Who ignored command. Who refused deference. She had collapsed, fevered and unsteady, forcing an interaction I neither sought nor welcomed. Even then, I had expected fear, gratitude, or at the very least obedience.
And when she recovered—
She looked at me as though I were beneath notice.
The memory burned.
Not because of what happened—but because of how little it affected her.
She had adjusted her robes calmly. Had spoken without fear. Had tossed a jade pendant at my chest as if dismissing a minor inconvenience.
Compensation.
The word scraped against my pride like a blade.
No one treated the Emperor of Tang as a convenience.
Rage simmered beneath my composure, sharp and unrelenting, restrained only by years of discipline earned through war and rule. I summoned Hawks at once.
He knelt before me, head bowed, awaiting command.
“Find her,” I ordered.
I described her precisely—tall, composed, long black hair, eyes an unnatural shade of blue. A presence that did not belong to any court I knew, nor any role she claimed to inhabit.
Unmistakable.
Unacceptable.
Hawks did not question me. He rose and departed without a word.
Alone once more, I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.
This woman would be found.
And when she was—
I would learn exactly who she believed herself to be, to look upon an emperor without fear and walk away without regret.
- Writer
