The New King's Doubts, A Conditional Promise

The candle flame flickered at the corner of the desk, casting a dark golden gleam along the edge of the jade pendant. The new king's fingers still rested atop it, as though the echo of those three soft taps still hung in the air, not yet dispersed.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze settling on Chen Wuya. His voice was low, yet impossible to evade. "You saved me in my hour of peril. I remember that. But beneath this throne lies a century of blood feud between my people and the Central Plains."

Chen Wuya neither moved nor replied. He merely stood in silence, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the faded blue cloth sash at his waist and smoothing it lightly. The small motion eased, if only slightly, the faint ache in his meridians where the Misaligned Force had stagnated.

"If you want me not to trust you, I can hardly feel at ease either." He suddenly spoke, taking half a step forward to meet the new king's eyes head-on. "In last night's battle, whose neck had a blade at it—each man knows that best in his own heart. Now you ask whether I can trust you. You'd do better to ask yourself first—now that you're sitting up there, do you still intend to keep the promise you made?"

The new king lowered his eyes. His fingers slipped from the jade pendant and landed on the unopened secret report atop the desk. The paper was faintly creased, as if it had been thumbed over and over again.

"The matter of an alliance is not for me alone to decide." He spoke slowly, every word distinct. "The Central Plains and my people have borne grudges for many years. Some in court see you as aid, while others see