Chapter 3: The Weight Of “Duty”

Wei stirred in his bed, the soft rustling of silk sheets barely audible over the quiet crack of dawn. His eyes remained shut, yearning for just a few more moments of rest, but the persistent voice of the eunuch at his bedside shattered any hope of peace.

“Your Highness,” the eunuch called, bowing low with perfect precision. “It’s time to rise. There are matters that require your attention.”

Wei groaned inwardly. Every morning was the same. The duties, the expectations, the unrelenting pressure of being the Crown Prince; it never ceased. His mind drifted back to his dreams of wandering the bustling streets of the capital, free from royal obligations, with no one to tell him what to do. But those fantasies were fleeting. He knew he had to play his part.

If he refused to wake, the whispers would spread like wildfire. A lazy prince unfit to rule, they would say. His father had raised him better, and Wei knew it. So, with a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes and rose from his bed.

"Your attire for today, Your Highness," the eunuch continued, holding out the elaborate robes that Wei had grown to loathe.

As the prince dressed, his mind was already elsewhere, dreading the day ahead. His daily routine was a far cry from the life he desired. And, as if to remind him of his distaste for it all, the sound of delicate footsteps reached his ears.

Lady Ji, one of his concubines, appeared at the entrance, a smile painted on her lips, as perfect and false as ever. Wei forced a polite smile in return, though every fiber of his being rejected her presence. She was undeniably beautiful, her graceful walk and flawless features enough to turn heads in the palace. Yet, to Wei, that beauty was a veil, a thin mask that concealed the cold ambition in her heart.

He knew why she lingered near him day after day. It wasn’t love or even loyalty that tied her to his side. She wanted a child, his child, so that she could solidify her place in the royal hierarchy, rise in rank, and secure her power in the palace. It was all a calculated game, and Wei had seen it before. His own mother, the Queen Consort, had played that very game, climbing to her high position through her ambition and manipulation.

Wei despised it. The constant schemes, the superficial kindness, the false smiles that surrounded him every day.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Lady Ji cooed, her voice soft but laced with a forced sweetness that Wei had long since grown immune to. She linked her arm through his, and he resisted the urge to pull away.

"I trust you slept well?" she asked, her eyes scanning his face, searching for a connection that Wei refused to offer.

Wei gave a noncommittal nod, knowing better than to engage too deeply. His mother had once told him that concubines were necessary, that they were part of the machinery of power. But now, all he saw were hungry eyes, waiting for the moment to sink their claws in.

The thought soured his morning further, but there was no escaping it. She would follow him through the day, as always, her false affection a constant reminder of the world he was trapped in.

As Wei walked down the palace halls, Lady Ji still clinging to his side, his thoughts drifted to a distant dream; one that seemed impossible in his world. He often imagined having just one wife, someone who loved him not because of his title, his wealth, or the promise of power, but because of him. Someone who saw Wei the person, not Wei the Crown Prince.

He longed for that simplicity, for the warmth of a true companion who could ease the weight he carried every day. His heart yearned for a love that wasn’t built on schemes and politics, but on trust and sincerity. In a life surrounded by people who had only their own ambitions in mind, Wei’s greatest desire was something real. He envied the commoners he often saw from his balcony, holding hands with their loved ones, their lives uncomplicated by courtly intrigue.

The more he thought about it, the more the presence of Lady Ji gnawed at him. Her perfume was heavy, cloying, and though her voice was soft, it lacked the warmth that could ever make his heart stir. She would never be the woman he longed for. No one in this palace could be.

As Lady Ji prattled on about a small garden party one of the other concubines was hosting, Wei felt his attention slipping. Her words blurred into meaningless sounds, like the endless drone of the court meetings he despised.

He longed for an escape, a moment of peace.

By the time they reached the main hall, Wei’s ears were aching; not just from her constant chatter, but from the oppressive silence of his own thoughts. He needed something to soothe him, to pull him out of the numbness that had settled over him.

Music.

His ears ached for music. Something sweet, something to drown out the noise of his life, to fill the hollow spaces that the palace had carved into his soul. The only thing that could bring him some sense of relief, even if it was only temporary.

He excused himself from Lady Ji's company as politely as he could, though her eyes lingered on him with disappointment. She was too persistent, always looking for ways to spend more time with him, thinking it would win her favour.

But at that moment, Wei didn’t care. He just needed to be alone, to escape from the suffocating routine of the palace, if only for a little while.

                                                                                 ….

Wei made his way to the grand throne room, where his father, the Emperor, awaited. The air inside was heavy with the scent of incense, and courtiers murmured around the grand hall, their voices rising and falling like the hum of bees. The Emperor sat tall on his golden throne, his eyes sharp and assessing as they fell upon Wei.

"Father," Wei greeted him with a respectful bow.

The Emperor gave a slow nod. “Wei, we must discuss the troubling news from the outskirts, near the border of Li.”

Wei straightened up, prepared for another conversation about the growing unrest. The people in those far lands were suffering, the harvests had failed, and poverty spread like a disease. Yet the Emperor’s court was slow to act, tangled in endless debates about budgets and resources.

“The people are hungry,” the Emperor continued, his voice grave. “If we do not provide aid soon, they may turn to rebellion.”

Wei agreed, though he held little hope that his father would act swiftly. The empire had many priorities, and those on the edges of its borders were often left forgotten. “We must send supplies, offer relief before it escalates.”

The conversation dragged on, with ministers chiming in on what the empire should do, offering hollow promises of change. Wei’s mind wandered again, aching for something to lift the heavy atmosphere. That’s when the announcement came.

“A musician has arrived to present a performance for His Majesty,” a eunuch called out from the doorway.

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