A Will of His Own

Shulitu rarely walked around outside his tent alone. Even when the Dragon King had kept him under a loose house arrest, Nie Zeng and Han Wuxian had stayed by his side. Though he was of the Northern Court royal family, he had an innate fear of dirt, weeds, and horses.

This morning, he meant to challenge that fear.

The Dragon King's words had kept him awake all night. At first, standing in for the Old Khan King had seemed like a pipe dream. But after turning it over in his mind again and again, he had found himself tempted.

Under his grandfather's and maternal grandfather's instruction, Shulitu had grown used to thinking like a puppet: anything that seemed to belong to him actually belonged to someone else.

The Dragon King was different. He seemed willing to grant a puppet more autonomy, but Shulitu understood perfectly well that this was no gift. The Dragon King was encouraging him to seize it for himself.

He sent his attendants away and dressed himself in light leather armor. It fit him perfectly and was far more comfortable than the King Yue Ying steel armor his father had left behind.

This was the camp of the young king, Shulitu, yet even the lowliest camp servant knew who truly ruled here. The twelve-year-old royal grandson stood at his tent entrance, feeling like a stranger to everything around him.

The morning sun was so dazzling. Shulitu saw an officer salute him, so he nodded in return. He vaguely remembered the man's name. He was one of King Yue Ying's former subordinates, and supposedly more loyal to Shulitu than the others. So far, though, Shulitu had felt no particular difference.

As he walked east, the din of the soldiers rising early grew louder. If the Old Khan King