Lin Rui paced through the inner court, dragging his steps as if it were the last place he wanted to be. He did not like being here. Not with these noble ladies murmuring behind painted fans, whispering and glancing at him. He loathed the sound more than anything else in this palace. To them, it was gossip. To him, it was a poorly rehearsed play he was forced to watch every single day. He ignored their sideways glances, his mind already looking for an exit before the Dowager could even speak.
The Khatun Dowager rose, polished smile decorating her face as usual, never breaking. "My dear Khan, you honor us with your presence."
Lin Rui inclined his head slightly. "Your summons is never to be ignored, Mother."
The Dowager's smile faltered for a brief moment. There was a flicker of apology, something rare to see from her eyes.
"Forgive me, my Khan. I have been… preoccupied with the matters of Prince Kabil's inner court and neglected the preparations for your own marriage."
Lin Rui gave a casual shrug, the movement hidden slightly by his heavy robes. "Of course. The affairs of your own son always take precedence."
Her smile returned, wider now. "Then allow me to introduce Lady Naram, daughter of Minister Bayan. A refined young woman. Educated, elegant. A perfect match for a man of your station."
Lady Naram stepped forward and bowed deeply. "It is my greatest honor to meet His Majesty."
Lin Rui sat and gave a small, dismissive flick of his wrist. "Rise."
She stood, graceful, every motion trained and flawless. Her posture perfect, her smile steady, her eyes careful.
Lin Rui almost laughed behind the mask.
He knew her.
Another pawn. Another carefully placed piece meant to earn his trust, to make him believe she cared, only to betray him in the end.
Yes, that was Lady Naram's role in the story. She was supposed to make the Khan fall in love with her. He would fall in love, and she would stab him in the back, literally, in the end.
I wrote the knife into her hand. Now I had to wait for it.
The Dowager thought beauty and obedience could bind him. And he would have to play along.
"I've heard Your Majesty enjoys poetry." Lady Naram smiled, ever so perfectly. "Would you allow me to recite one from the Tughril archives?"
Lin Rui inclined his head. "If you wish."
He had to follow the script. He had to appear interested.
She began to recite. Her voice was soft, melodic, every line flowing in the way she had been trained to deliver. The other concubines' eyes flicked between her and the Khan, measuring, judging. Lin Rui did not see them. His mind had already left the room.
He thought of another voice. Clumsy. Uncertain over Tughril's words. A voice that stumbled and then laughed at itself. A voice that had made him, as Ruhan, patient and amused. A voice that had turned boring lessons into fun games, into moments that made the world feel lighter than it was.
He frowned behind the mask. He had not expected to feel warmth at the memory. He did not allow this.
Lady Naram paused as she noticed, even behind the mask, the Khan's eyes were wandering elsewhere. "Does Your Majesty not care for the poem?"
Lin Rui cleared his throat. "It is… well-composed." He had to remain unreadable.
Lady Naram nodded, as though even this small approval was a victory.
The Dowager leaned forward. "Lady Naram has studied extensively, my Khan. She will be a partner worthy of your intellect and… high expectations."
Lin Rui nodded slightly. Enough to be polite, nothing more. "I am… sure we will have much to discuss."
Lady Naram bowed again, her eyes holding his for just a fraction longer than necessary. "Perhaps… Your Majesty would allow me to accompany you in discussing Tughril's literary archives?" Lady Naram asked, her tone polite but firm.
Lin Rui inclined his head. "Very well. Lead the way."
As they moved, the concubines whispered, and the Dowager's lips curved in satisfaction. She believed she had placed a new woman before him, polished and obedient, to distract and manipulate him.
But Lin Rui's mind was elsewhere. Every motion, every word of Lady Naram was like a passing image he could skip.
The hallway stretched ahead. Lin Rui walked steadily, the mask reflecting the light, hiding what he truly felt. Lady Naram walked beside him, poised and careful.
The study door appeared. Lady Naram gestured, and he stepped inside. He let protocol continue its course. Tea was poured, conversation passed, and every word was measured. She spoke well. Perfectly. Too perfectly.
He found his thoughts drifting again, comparing.
Lian Zhi would have stumbled, spilled tea, tripped on her own robes. She would have laughed and apologized. Twice at least. She would have made mistakes. She would have smiled awkwardly and wrinkled her nose at Tughril tea, and yet, he would have remembered the warmth in those moments.
Lin Rui's jaw tightened. He shook his head subtly, reminding himself this was not her. This was a piece, a pawn, meant to distract him. And he would be distracted, or at least he would make the Dowager think so.
The Dowager would expect praise. He gave it. Small, controlled, enough to indulge her without giving her the satisfaction of seeing his thoughts. Lady Naram inclined her head politely, a faint hint of triumph in her eyes.
The meeting ended. Lady Naram departed, every movement polished, obedient. Lin Rui remained standing, as if the world demanded it.
Outside, Arkan was waiting with a smirk. "So? How was the Dowager's new candidate?"
Lin Rui exhaled a long, quiet breath. "Polished. Intelligent. And dull."
Arkan chuckled, leaning against a pillar. "So… not your type?"
"She doesn't need to be." Lin Rui stepped past him. "She only needs to play the role."
His gaze drifted involuntarily toward the stone walls of the courtyard where a certain Hua princess liked to wander. Arkan noticed the look, and his smirk widened. "Ah. I see."
Lin Rui looked away. "You see nothing."
"Of course, my Khan," Arkan said cheerfully. "Absolutely nothing."
Lin Rui moved on, mask catching the light. But beneath it, his jaw tightened.
No matter what he did, she lingered. Her laughter. Her presence. And the memory of their stolen moments.
Some distractions, he realized, were impossible to ignore.