Luhan paced to and fro. His long robes swished with him as he veered deep into thought. His normally serene physiognomy had been dulled through grief. His sunken eyes recalled flashes of morbidity and his unwashed face was not one of royalty. Despite that, a title weighted against him. His robes were that of a Prince, his lineage was tainted yet gleamed nevertheless.

He pressed a fist into his mouth biting his skin as he remembered nothing but blood. His father’s dying breaths had been horrific. Luhan had never witnessed such dread. The gurgling of blood, gaunt features, pallid skin, a sunken gaze, fists that had grabbed him; it was seared into his memory.

He imagined tasting blood against his tongue; a thick metal-like liquid that made his insides twist with agony. Quickly he retracted his hand and stared at the angry, red dents in his skin. Pulling out his handkerchief, he wiped his mouth clean.

Footsteps were racing towards his premise. They made him shrink as they appeared closer. Indeed, his father’s death had taken a toll on him. After his mother’s hanging, Luhan had believed that he was alone in the world, but the day his father left him he felt as if he’d been ripped out of his skin.

Still, he was not entirely by himself. There was his younger brother, Xiuhan, who looked up to him. However, Xiuhan could not provide the comfort of a parent, which Luhan needed. In his brother’s eyes, Luhan was an adult, a reliable one but Luhan knew this to be false. He was anything but a grown up and even if he were the restrictions placed on him were far too much for him to entertain the younger Prince.

Although Luhan was royalty, his blood was smeared. The son of a concubine, many believed he had no right to be in the palace. His existence was frowned upon since his birth. Truth be told, it had never really bothered Luhan how much the Empress disliked him or how the Ministers stuck up their noses. He had always had the armor of his mother and father to shield him. Now, it was young Xiuhan who was keeping him at the palace.

The decision to allow Luhan to stay had sparked much debate between the officials but the Crown Prince had been adamant and had even cried at the prospect of sending Luhan away.

Luhan clenched his jaw, perhaps it would have been better to have been expelled for now it was Xiuhan whose health was steadily deteriorating. The royal doctors weren’t exactly sure of the cause and with every passing day the younger prince’s ailment seemed to get worse. Rumors were spreading that the cause was ‘bad blood.’

It had started with a cough, which could have been due to the changing of the seasons. The palace had been calm until Xiuhan experienced coughing fits. The doctors had been brought in and medication had been prescribed. Even now, the boy was taking them. He had started to improve, or so everyone had thought until he’d collapsed while taking a walk.

Luhan had been with him at the time. He’d caught the boy and even shaken him but he hadn’t awoken. Luhan had acted in haste, and had carried the boy on his back to the Royal Infirmary. The doctors had been surprised to see them there. Everyone had been stumped. From then onwards, Xiuhan was not allowed to leave the premise of his room lest his illness take over.

Prince Luhan stopped in his tracks as the heavy doors parted to reveal light. He stared at the bumbling eunuchs and sensed doubt lingering around them. With hostility in their stance they revealed Xiuhan’s condition. He nodded, clamping down on his exterior bravely lest he tremble. Shortly after, he dismissed them and when they were gone he sank to his hands and knees.

‘Bad luck dwindles in the palace,’ the Queen Dowager had always said. Luhan had never really believed her, perceiving her to be of rotten temperament, but now perhaps the harping old lady had been right.

“They tell me he’s getting worse,” Luhan finally rasped. His knotted words, travelled across the dark vicinity and reached who they were spoken for.

No response, but Luhan sensed Yifan had heard him. Soundlessly, the guard picked himself up from where he’d been resting. Heavy robes gliding across thick beams, he appeared before the Crown Prince with an expression of solemn.

“Pray tell me, am I not a good brother for I have not yet gone to see him? I fear he shall read my face and I shall be responsible for further deteriorating his health. Console me, my old friend for I am in need of wise words.”

Yifan glanced downward before his piercing gaze met Luhan’s. “Miss Ahn is wandering the market place.”

Luhan cracked a smile for the first time that day. “Shall we go meet her?” He spoke with wistful doubt. Perhaps a meeting would her would do him good.

-

Miss Ahn was a solitary figure that could transform all of Luhan’s weariness into tranquility. She was as lovely as Luhan remembered her with her ebony dark hair tied loosely. For a lady it was considere