It was already late at night. In the bedchamber of Xuanzheng Hall, only the shaded lamp at the head of the bed remained lit, its flame burning quietly in the bowl. On the imperial bed, Qi Yu lay on his side with his face buried between two pillows, his breathing already long and even. He turned over in his sleep, angling his face toward Qi Xiao, and his lips moved, as though he were still talking to someone in his dreams.
Qi Xiao had not gone to sleep. He leaned against the headboard, holding a memorial he had read halfway through. It had been submitted by the Ministry of War and concerned follow-up deployments for the troop rotation at the Northern Border. He had read it twice but had yet to write his decision. It was not that the memorial was difficult to rule on; his mind simply was not on it. He rested it on his knees and looked down at the peaceful sleeping face beside him.
He withdrew his gaze, picked up the memorial again, then put it down once more. He closed his eyes and leaned against the headboard, but images rose unbidden in his mind at an inopportune moment. They were not from court or from the memorial. They were of Qi Yu earlier in the bathing pool, his whole body flushed pink from soaking, asleep against the side. Of the day they returned from hunting, when Qi Yu lay against his shoulder, his face buried in the crook of his neck, his warm breath spilling over Qi Xiao's neck. Of countless late nights when this boy nestled in his arms, clutching his lapel with his fingers and mumbling indistinctly in his sleep. He was an emperor, but he was also an ordinary man. Some things