By the time the sedan chair reached the entrance to Xuanzheng Hall, dusk had fallen. Qi Yu came out on his crutches, with A Ping hovering beside him to steady him, murmuring that His Highness should slow down. Qi Yu ignored him and hopped on one foot toward the West Warm Pavilion. He was in a very good mood tonight. His crown prince brother's soy-braised pork hock tasted better than the Imperial Kitchen's, and his Osmanthus Cake was sweeter than Yuning Hall's. Most importantly, he had finally gotten out of that bedchamber. He was working out how to describe every dish he had eaten at the Eastern Palace to his imperial father when he suddenly heard faint voices from inside the pavilion. It was not just his father's voice, but several people's.
He paused in the act of pushing open the door and peered through the crack. Three princes stood before the imperial desk. Crown Prince Qi Ling was on the far left, dressed in the same moon-white informal robes Qi Yu had seen him wearing that afternoon at the Eastern Palace. He had probably been summoned after Qi Yu left. Second Prince Qi Ming stood in the middle, still clutching a book: the Han Annals section of Zizhi Tongjian, its spine rebound with thread. Third Prince Qi Zhao stood on the far right, as quiet as ever, waiting with lowered eyes. The three stood in a row, the atmosphere subtly tense, like students waiting to be examined while their examiner sat behind the imperial desk reviewing memorials. Hearing the door, Qi Xiao looked up just in time to see Qi Yu's head poking through the gap, an awkward smile on his face at being caught peeking.
"Come here." Qi Xiao set down his brush.
Qi Yu pushed the door