Ming ate some treats brought by Ahmad, his counselor. The prince's long hair and fair skin stood in stark contrast to the tanned complexion of the Arab, who wore a traditional turban. The young prince seemed relaxed as he discussed a new recipe scroll with the smiling Ahmad—a text coming from regions where Muslim influence was growing.
"Ahmad, my dear, did you see?" Ming commented, sipping his tea. "My father will get us cumin! I can't wait to make that mutton recipe we saw the other day."
"Your Majesty, you truly love finding new recipes for the imperial balls, don't you?" Ahmad asked.
"Absolutely," Ming replied. "But Father specifically wants to surprise a prince who is coming to visit, and the food of your people always leaves everyone stunned!"
Ming laughed, adjusting the scrolls on his desk. He was in his sanctuary—a spacious room worthy of his position, dominated by a massive desk overflowing with scrolls and letters. Nearby, shelves groaned under the weight of more documents, and just outside lay a private garden filled with the medicinal herbs he studied in his free time.
His peace, however, would not last. A eunuch requested permission to enter, and the scholar looked up, confused. Such visits were rare in his quarters.
"Eunuch Lin, it is a pleasure to see you," Ahmad said as the elder eunuch entered, greeting him with the dignity befitting a royal servant. "What news do you bring for His Majesty?"
"The Emperor ordered His Majesty, the Prince of Jade, to prepare for the reception of Prince Fhao. It seems he will arrive tonight," the eunuch announced.
Ming was speechless, fighting the urge to insult the visiting prince before even meeting him. He exchanged a frustrated glance with Ahmad and raised his hands after a heavy sigh. Only when the eunuch left did their eyes meet again.
"Is he assuming we are a hotel?" Ming grumbled. "How am I supposed to prepare a reception in hours instead of days? Ahmad, ask our staff to take an inventory of the kitchen and find the smartest one to fetch the scroll regarding this prince's people. I will review what we can do and prepare the banquet. Take the opportunity to prepare a good bath for me while we wait."
Ming was practical. He frequently organized things the Mother Empress no longer handled. Mentally, he cursed his father, the Empress, and the prince who had upended his plans. He hated sudden changes; perhaps that was why he preferred the quiet beauty of the library. Yet, despite the stress, he adapted beautifully—like a ballerina adjusting her steps when the music changes mid-performance.
The Arrival and the Feast
Night fell, and Ming dressed with care. His ornaments were extravagant: a lotus-shaped hair clip carved from fine jade and a matching necklace that lent him an air of quiet elegance. Two jade rings adorned his right hand, and his nails bore a soft pink hue—a subtle beauty tactic learned from his aunt using a floral extract.
His beige silk robes almost floated as he walked. Ahmad helped him into his sedan chair, which the eunuchs carried with practiced ease.
"We managed to get the cumin for the roast," Ahmad whispered as they moved. "I provided the knives, and your favorite cook was preparing dairy products for your mother. However, the Empress of the Superior Rank did not seem pleased. Still, I believe the reception will be grand."
"Thank you, Ahmad, you did very well," Ming replied. "We will arrange a gift for the Empress later. Since she and my mother share the dairy production, I cannot leave her empty-handed. My grandfather is just a scholar; we cannot afford to cause trouble with the Superior Empress or my brother right away."
They both sighed. The cold night air could not hide their shared anxiety over poking the hornet's nest of the most powerful woman in the kingdom.
Ming's arrival was part of a simple procession. His three elder brothers—born predators—were already seated at the primary tables to the Emperor's right. Ming took his place as the fourth; though younger, he was clearly his father's favorite among those not in the direct line for the crown.
Only one brother offered a brief nod, which Ming returned with a soft bow. He looked toward the raised platform where his father sat with the Principal Empress. Below them sat five women and one man—the other wives.
His mother, dressed in lilac robes that matched his own, offered him a discreet smile. His family came from a lineage of scholars and doctors, a mixed background that the Emperor found fascinating. His mother was a princess only by the grace of the Emperor's love; he adored her intelligence, but she would never sit at his side as the primary Empress.
Ming stayed out of politics as long as his mother was happy. Both were Yin-xu—those who possessed Yin energy and nurtured the family. In contrast, the Emperor and the three elder sons were Yang-Zhi: powerful predators and leaders. Only Yang-Zhi could be kings, though the Zhong-He (those in perfect balance) also held high positions in court.
Temur, the eldest brother and Crown Prince, nodded to Ming. Unlike the scholar prince, Temur was a powerful warrior who wore furs over his robes.
"Little brother Ming, will we have mutton by any chance?" Temur asked with a smirk. "I heard you took care of the banquet."
"Yes, my brother," Ming laughed softly. "How could I leave my dear warrior brothers without good meat? I'm not that cruel. Besides, if I served a meatless meal, Father would revoke my favorite status."
"On the next expedition, I'll bring you more documents from Ahmad's people as a gift," Temur promised. "And dried fruits, of course. I know you like them." Ming knew this was Temur's way of being protective—and a sign that he'd likely receive jewels if the food was good.
The conversation was interrupted when a man in travel-worn clothes entered. He prostrated himself before the Emperor, drawing the curiosity of everyone, especially Ming.
Is he a prince? Ming wondered. The man wore simple brown attire and was assisted by servants until he could change into something more appropriate. He surrendered his weapons and bowed again.
"Prince, welcome," the Emperor said kindly. "My family receives you with joy. My wives and children have been awaiting your arrival."
As dinner was served, the aroma of the spiced lamb filled the hall. The young prince discussed horses and travel with the Emperor, but after taking a bite of the meat, he paused.
"I have never eaten anything like this, Your Majesty," the guest remarked. "Forgive my question, but did one of your wives plan this banquet?"
"No, no, young man," the Emperor beamed. "It was my son, Ming, the Prince of Jade. Stand up, son; bless the eyes of the prince who came from so far with your beauty."
Ming nearly choked on his food but stood gracefully, bowing in an elegant manner. "I am happy that Your Majesty was pleased," he said softly. "It is a seasoning from the lands of my servant, Ahmad."
He sat down quickly, trying to ignore the prince's intense gaze. He could feel the guest watching him even as the conversation shifted back to the Emperor.
"Look at that," Temur teased, leaning toward Ming. "The prince is already coveting you. You shouldn't have shown off your talents, brother." Ming tried to hide the blush rising to his cheeks.
After the Feast
When the banquet ended, Ming met his mother outside.
"Hello, Mother. Thank you for the help with the dairy," he said sweetly. "I'll arrange some apricots for you later."
Empress Liam laughed. "Don't worry, dear. If you can, send them to the Superior Empress instead. She shared her production with me and will appreciate the gesture."
"I will," Ming agreed. "Who do you think the visitor will choose this time? His Yang energy is intense. Maybe Sister Sarnai? She is a Mongol and knows how to ride."
"I don't know," Liam replied with a chuckle. "But Ziteng couldn't take his eyes off him either."
"True," Ming laughed. "Ziteng is certainly expecting a wedding soon."
After saying goodnight to his mother, Ming returned to his quarters with Ahmad. Both were exhausted. As Ahmad helped him prepare for bed, the reclusive prince fell asleep, unaware of the conversations still happening in the banquet hall—conversations that would change his life forever.