The words lingered in the room.
Ruhan did not move. His face remained calm, but something shifted in his eyes, dark and steady.
The true Khan of Tughril had returned.
He stepped forward slowly, each motion composed and confident. His boots made a dull sound against the stone floor as he passed the masked man and stopped at the desk. He removed his outer robe and set it over the chair, casual but unmistakably in control. His gaze swept over the scrolls and maps spread across the wooden surface, taking in the details, as if assessing how much the palace had changed in his absence.
The masked man, Arkan, lowered his head, then reached up and removed the mask with both hands. He placed the mask gently on the table before bowing deeply. The flickering light revealed exhaustion but also loyalty in his eyes.
"Is there anything that happened while I was gone, Arkan?" Ruhan's voice was calm and steady, almost too quiet. "Anything worth my attention?"
Arkan straightened, though a hint of relief softened his features now that the act was over. "Nothing of alarm, Your Majesty. The Khatun Dowager has remained quiet, keeping mostly to her chambers. The Grand Prince has made no suspicious movements. The court… continues as usual."
Ruhan nodded slowly. "Good. That means you handled things well."
Arkan hesitated, shifting his weight slightly. "However, there is some… information."
Ruhan's eyes lifted, faintly curious. "Go on."
"The Chancellor," Arkan began carefully, "has been meeting with foreigners from the West. Not in open council, but privately. Our watchers say the gatherings happen at night, always in the same place. The meetings are discreet. We have not learned their purpose yet."
Ruhan's eyes narrowed slightly, though his tone stayed calm. "And you have kept my absence concealed?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. To everyone in court, you never left."
"Good," Ruhan said. His voice softened, and a smile appeared. "You took my place and held things together. You did well, Arkan."
A trace of pride flickered across Arkan's face. "Serving you is an honor."
He hesitated before continuing. "Still, I did not think you would go yourself. Not all the way to Hua. It was a dangerous choice. I never understood why you'd go through all that trouble just to escort the Hua princess personally."
Ruhan leaned back slightly, his gaze calm. "Because I sensed something would go wrong. I had to make sure everything went as planned."
Arkan tilted his head. "I heard you met some trouble on the way. Word reached the guards that your convoy was delayed in the border passes."
Ruhan gave a chuckle. "Exactly why I went myself. If I had sent someone else, that trouble might have cost me more than time. It would have ruined everything."
Arkan gave a short nod, half in admiration, half in relief. "Then it was wise you did. The court believes you never left the capital. Your absence was never noticed."
"That is how it should be." Ruhan's tone sharpened again, returning to command. "Continue your work. Find out what the Chancellor wants from these foreigners. Be careful, and report only to me. No one else."
"Yes, Majesty." Arkan bowed deeply, then hesitated. "And… was the princess as you expected?"
Ruhan was quiet for a moment. His expression softened a little, as if remembering something distant. "Not in the way I expected," he said at last.
Arkan watched him briefly, curious but smart enough not to ask. He bowed once more and turned to leave, still wearing the Khan's robe out of habit.
Ruhan's voice stopped him. "Arkan."
The man stopped and looked back.
"You can remove the robe now," Ruhan said, his tone softer. "You have worn the title long enough."
For a moment, surprise flashed across Arkan's face, then he laughed under his breath. "Ah. Right." He unclasped the robe and folded it neatly before handing it over. "It suits you better anyway."
Their eyes met briefly. No words were needed, only that quiet exchange of loyalty, respect, and understanding that could exist only between two men who had shared the burden of a secret throne.
When Arkan left, the room fell silent again.
Ruhan turned back to the desk, scanning the neat stacks of scrolls and documents Arkan had organized. There were reports from the capital, trade records, and letters from foreign envoys. All the tedious weight of the kingdom. His eyes lingered on the pile for a moment, then he sighed and pushed them aside.
The room felt too still. The kind of silence that pressed at the edges of his thoughts.
He stood, unfastening the last of his ornaments and setting them aside, then crossed to the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat down, exhaustion creeping in at last. The ache of travel, the sting of sand, the hollow fatigue of pretending.
He lay back, resting an arm across his forehead, and for a long moment, said nothing. Then a small, unguarded smile tugged at his lips.
The warmth of Xiao Zhi's laughter, the faint scent of wine on her breath, and the unexpected softness of her lips against his. The memory was clear now, no longer a blur from the night before. It made him chuckle to himself.
He smiled to himself, the first true smile of the night. "You little fool," he murmured, "you do not even know what you have done."
His fingers brushed lightly over his own lips, tracing where hers had been. The memory lingered longer than it should have, curling softly through his thoughts until the weight of his crown and the shadows of the court began to fade.
The palace around him slept, its halls quiet except for the faint whisper of wind through the stone corridors.
Ruhan closed his eyes. For the first time since his return, he allowed himself to rest. Not as a Khan, not as a ruler, but as a man who, despite everything, still remembered the feeling of being kissed beneath a lantern's glow.
He closed his eyes and let the silence settle. The night stretched on, calm and deep, as the Khan of Tughril finally allowed himself to sleep.