By the time Shen Duan left the imperial palace, it was a quarter to one in the afternoon.
He neither took a sedan chair nor rode a horse, but walked slowly through the shadows along the foot of the palace wall.
"Imperial blood runs deep. Break the bones, and the sinews still bind them."
"The anger in His Majesty's heart won't fade anytime soon, but there must still be an accounting."
"What His Majesty dislikes most is people beneath him making decisions on his behalf."
Taken separately, none of these remarks amounted to much.
But once strung together, their implications emerged.
Shen Duan stopped in the shadow of the palace wall.
He tilted his head to look at the sky above and pinched his beard.
No execution.
His Majesty didn't want to kill Prince Ning.
Or rather, His Majesty wanted to kill him, but couldn't.
The vassal princes across the realm were watching, the Upright Officials at court were watching, and the historians' brushes were recording it all.
Killing his own uncle-and making him the first vassal prince ever executed in the Great Zhou Dynasty-was too heavy a debt for the emperor to bear.
But someone still had to pay the debt for the Gansu Three Prefectures.
If not Prince Ning, then someone else.
"His Majesty is still a benevolent man at heart! Ha ha."
Having worked it out, Shen Duan resumed walking, his steps lighter than before.
The Imperial Clan Court.
Prince Ning, Jiang Zhang, had not expected Shen Duan to arrive so quickly.
There were no reprimands, no lofty lectures, not even polite pleasantries.
Shen Duan entered the main hall, lifted his robe, and sat down. His very first words were:
"Your Highness, are you willing to save yourself?"
"It isn't a question of whether I'll save