The Empress sat a little straighter, and the smell of alcohol spread with her movement.
"Strange. A Grandmaster struck, yet Fan Xian survived?"
"It's hardly unusual that he survived." The Crown Prince chose his words carefully. "Mother, you've lived deep within the palace for so long that news reaches you slowly. You may not know, but Fan Xian's background is far from ordinary."
The Empress narrowed her eyes. "Far from ordinary? Isn't that Fan Xian the bastard Fan Jian raised in Danzhou? What could possibly be special about a bastard?"
The Crown Prince took a deep breath, endured the smell of alcohol, and leaned closer to the Empress, lowering his voice. "Mother, I heard Ye Liuyun stopped because Fan Xian is Ye Qingmei's son. Rumor has it that Xiao En of Northern Qi revealed that Fan Xian is Father Emperor's bastard."
Crack!
The wine cup fell from the Empress's hand and shattered on the floor. Amber wine splashed onto her skirts, spreading into dark stains, but she was completely unaware of it.
"What!" She sprang to her feet, bracing one hand against the table as her voice abruptly rose. "Fan Xian is Ye Qingmei's son?"
Startled by her reaction, the Crown Prince instinctively stepped half a pace back.
"Yes. I had people investigate, and it's true." He paused. "But I'm not sure whether Fan Xian is Father Emperor's bastard. That's why I came specifically to ask you, Mother."
As the Empress listened, a tangle of emotions crossed her face.
Hatred, terror, and pain twisted her once well-maintained face into a hideous grimace.
Her lips trembled, as did the hand braced against the table. Her whole body was like a string stretched to its limit.
"Mother?" the Crown Prince called tentatively.
There was no response.
"Mother!" he called again, a little